Time I can dedicate: In the coming 2 weeks almost everyday for 5-8 hours. But once school starts around 1-2 hours weekdays and 5-9 hours on weekends.
Why us? While looking through some of the other servers for Fallout RP I have come to the decision that this one is the most organized, and the most into Role-Playing... which is why I'm here.
Define Role-Playing in your own words: When you act, and think as a person, or thing in a certain character according to the genre of which you are acting after.
Meta-gaming: Using things you learned ooc and put it in use in a IC action or occurrence.
Power-gaming: Doing things that your character wouldn't be able to do without interaction of the other character or thing your are interacting with.
Appearance: 6'5, 215 ibs, Handlebar Mustache, Rough face, multiple scars surrounding eyes and mouth. Very broad shoulders, very in shape, strong and intimidating look. Usually wears casual or heavy armor.
Personality: Very Sarcastic, tends to get very attached to companions, followers, and other people that he spends time around, and gets to know.
Background:
Dennis was born in a small town called Ash-fall outside of Salt-Lake City, this was a very caring, and quiet town allowing Dennis to be raised peacefully and correctly, much like a pre-war child would have been raised... without the comforts of technology of course. With Dennis growing up in a caring family with his parents herding Brahmin for the local food supply, Dennis starting talking and hanging out with the local town merchant, Randall. Randall gave Dennis all of these crazy and amazing stories of treasure, and adventure in the Sand Francisco bay area from when Randall used to be a Courier, and explorer for the NCR. He told Dennis about how well the NCR treated soldiers and their associates in the Bay area, and maybe even convincing Dennis to join up wit them if he ever makes it out that way. But since a the young, but eager Dennis was only 9 at that time, he made alot of promises to the people he cared about...
10 years later...
His mother Marie was slowly dying of Radiation poising when one of the brahmin she herded got attacked by a Glowing ghoul that infected the brahmin with dangerous amounts of radiation, but sadly Marie did not find the brahmin until the ghouls have left. Marie, not wanting the meat to go to waste she sold 3/4 of the meat to Randall and the rest she ate... But Randall sold all of the meat to the local townsfolk, and the Town's population was 17, but after the meat poisoning... there was only 5 left. With 78% of the townsfolk gone, Dennis, Dennis's father Dmitri, and Randall abandon the town of Ash-fall and move westward, to Randall's "promised lands' in a pre-war state called "California". On the trip to California, around New Vegas, the now old Randall peacefully died while sleeping on the trail... But he left behind a note for Dennis, the note told him to meet up with the NCR in San Francisco and live a good life serving a noble cause. Dennis made a promise to himself to enlist with the San Francisco chapter of the NCR's Army.
5 years later...
With major setbacks and several near death experiences, along with losing his father to raiders, Dennis finally came across a sign that said "Welcome to the Grand city of San Francisco". After traversing hundreds of miles of extremely hostile territory, and nearly dying while crossing the wastes that are plagued with bandits... he finally made it to the Bay. Now all that he had to do was find a safe place to stay, and rest temporarily until he located the NCR and Enlisted.
I have redone my Background story and character, everything lines up correctly and I hope you'll think so too! Thanks!
Appearance: Rhett is a tall fit man with brown short hair, wearing an old worn out duster. His eyes are dark brown, filled with curiosity. He wears a belt along with a revolver strapped to his waste, a gift from his friend. (Won't start out with it in the server)
Personality: Rhett is a man with a bright personality; kind to his friends and allies, is able to keep a positive mood when everyone is down, and very much enjoys being with animals. However at times may act immoral to people he does not know as a defence mechanism he learned from his experience. He is also well trained with the sniper rifle, for his good friend will tell him how to use firearms from a young age.
In-game RP example: (Include dialog) Rhett is walking down an old worn-out road as a caravan merchant comes by. Merchant: "Hey there stranger! Would you like to buy anything at a fine day like this?" Rhett: "A couple of stimpacks and ammo would do just fine." Merchant: "Here you go stranger! Say, where are you off to?" Rhett: "Why do you care?"
Merchant: "Well these roads are particularly dangerous going alone. Fire geckos lurk around here..." As soon as the merchant spoke of this, a family of fire geckos quickly advanced towards Rhett and the merchant. Lured from the smell of food from the caravan, the ravenous pack were not going to stop. Merchant: "Oh, Christ.....We're both gonna' die here stranger."
Rhett: "Quick, pass me some ammo for my revolver; .45-70 Govt. rounds!" Merchant: "Of course! Here you go!" Rhett quickly pulled out a revolver from his waste. He then reloaded his gun as the geckos closed-in, and with a quick draw, he shot a fire gecko straight in the face. The poor thing's head exploded, flying back with great force. Merchant: "Nice shot gun slinger! Two more to go!" Rhett focused another gecko as it jumped for the merchant. He crippled it, shooting it's hind leg off, sending him to the ground. He aimed for the last, however, scurried away in a hurry. He watched as the creature run away and felt sympathetic, a feeling of sorrow. However, this feeling was burried away as a new feeling of enjoyment took over with the merchant thanking him. Merchant: "I gotta' tell you, you're a great shot stranger!"
Rhett: "Thanks. If you're still wondering, i'm actually off to SanFrancisco, if you could give me any advice that would be kind." Merchant: "Not much is known down there.... The only thing I could tell ya' is to be careful. They say strange creatures linger around in the bay area."
Background: (Detailed and in-depth, 2 paragraphs) Rhett's story begins when he a young kid of the age of 5. He had a little house at Bakersfield, California where he lived with his parents. You can tell that Rhett was not living in a good condition from looking at his house; the windows were all broken, due to his father's drunk behavior, the walls had cracks and holes, and the roof had a big hole in it, letting all the rain fall inside his dusty home. Money became scarce as the Walton family started losing caps, for Rhett's father would spend it all on gambling or alcohol. By the next year, Rhett was sold to a slave market, being thrown out and forgotten by his parents. He was then sent to Lake Tahoe, walking through most of the way, leading a cart where the owner would sit. He was thirsty and his feet were worn out. Soon, he collapsed onto the dry debris filled ground. The slave owner got off and pulled out his whip from his pocket. Rhett was already half unconscious as the owner walked towards him with rage. Rhett felt the sting of the whip against him, however, could not get up. After he felt as if death was close, he heard a loud bang, the sound of an anti-material rifle. Right after, he heard screams from the other slaves, and finally, a loud thud. When he looked besides him, he saw the dead face of the slave owner. He started into his soulless eyes as he heard foot steps walking towards him. "You hurt boy?" Asked the voice. Still looking at the dead body, he got up, and spat at it. He looked at the man behind him, and from that moment, the man known as Karl became his new father figure. Karl was a big fit man of the age of 50. He was the sniper in the NCR when he was 30, however, chose to leave after being raided three times at his small camp. He wasn't a coward, he just didn't like the idea of holding up at a camp, waiting for nothing to occur. He loved to explore, and so thats what he did. Wearing a hat and a duster, he went off. He came from Sacramento, and it was the smallest of luck that he saw a young boy being whipped on his way to SanFrancisco. He wanted to explore the borders of California before going there, taking a long route towards the Bay area. Karl was a lonely man who looked for company. He lost his pregnant wife when his house was burned down by raiders, and from there on, kept a photo of him and his wife in his pocket, safe in a little tim box. Maybe thats the reason why he saved Rhett and decided to keep him around. Not much is known of this in particular.
Within weeks Karl would teach the young boy how to defend himself from enemies such as the previous ones and other creatures that he have never heard of. Rhett on the other hand, was a great learner, remembering the names of creatures and enemies he should avoid. On some days Karl would ask, "You remember what the most fierce creatures called?" Rhett would know this answer very quickly, earning a cap for every question he gets right. Specialising in the sniper rifles, Karl taught Rhett how to use one correctly. This training took Rhett a few days to become confident with the weapon, but after a week, the two were off to scavenge hunts and explorations in a small city nearby. Rhett would take position at a high elevation, picking off Raiders as Karl would go in, collecting food, medicine, and ammo to keep him and Rhett surviving. Years went by and by the time Karl deceased from this world, Rhett will be 20 years old and by this time, Karl's duster fit perfectly on Rhett. He dug a grave for Karl, placing his rifle besides him and his tim box in his arms. He said goodbye to his dead friend, or 'father', and ventured off to SanFrancisco, where he would explore for his friend who chased this dream for a very long time. He heard rumors that the place was dangerous, but Rhett was willing to take the chance.
It would be best if you read the background first, as it explain the rest of my character.- Seriously, alot of emotional value is lost if you dont read the background before any other IC things.
And sorry if i switch from third person to first mid background, i just got into it is all...
OOC~~~
IGN:Chillydown
Age:17
Time you can dedicate:As an insomniac 90% of my game time will be in the early AMs so a couple hours a day
Why us?:A builder is a friend, the stories he has told me of your skyrim RP server got me close to joining it. Now that you have BNW there's no doubt i want to be apart of this. I've done very little RPing but I'm not ignorant to the rules. I have tons of patience and will happily make a new character if mine happens to die (very likely)
All in all i think this would be an interesting way to spend my time.
Define Role-Playing in your words: Assuming the perception, mindset, physical, and emotional traits of a ficticious character
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Admittedly i just learned about this term, but notice its crucial to RPing- When the character knows a fact(that the player does) he should not, like knowing something that was posted on the forums when there would be no way of him getting this information, or seeing names through walls.
Define Power-gaming in your words:When you attempt an unrealistic (to the realm you are playing) action, such as picking an expert lock, instead of attempting to pick it. Or killing a behemoth with a box of cram. I fully understand this concept when it comes to battle, and interaction with other players
Did you join our website? indeed
IC~~~
Name:Edith Mushnick
Nickname:Marcy
Age:32
Gender:Femme Fatale♥
Appearance:Shaved head since she left her home, skinny, but not petite. Looks alot older than she actually is, possibly because of her oldworld European blood (her family has lived in America since the first civil war, but they came in from Italy)
Never removes her hood, making it even harder to tell her age.
Personality:An emotionally crippled paranoid. Enjoys eavesdropping, loves to listen, hesitant to speak. Constantly worries about being judged, so attempts to make as little impact as possible. And yet she is (like us all) Quick to judge, but not outspokenly so- Example- Is kind to every one she meets (out of caution) but only those she deems truly worthy does she speak more than a sentence to. At this point in her life currently mourning one of her greatest possessions, her cat Fiddle ( i don't need to tell you the rarity of a domesticated animals in this world) So her mood darkens quicker than usual.
Unusually prone to violence, not out of necessity but out of nature. Inwardly enjoys ending lives, but only kills if she wont be looked down on for it.
Also- Uses the Micro-nap schedule for sleep, so shes never caught off guard.(google it if you dont know)
In-game RP example:
Walking along a well traveled route alone with her cat near sunrise,
*Marcy notices a picture perfect record player that's softly humming a song she knew all too well- I don't want to set the world on fire-The Ink Spots
*Marcy Checks the perimeter, assumes shes alone and walks up to it.
Noticing a piece of paper taped to it "where the hell did someone get tape?"
She walks to pick it up but only gets a few feet before she reads it "BIG MISTAKE"
The sound of a mine interests her cat and as she pounces it explodes.
Marcy attempts to roll out of the blast but is hit by shrapnel, the cries of a raider and his partner come from farther down the road
"CRAPCRAPCRAP, not like this, not like this!" Laying on her stomach now she proceeds to take aim at the one with less armor.
Fiend 1-catches it in the shoulder and falls
Quickly she aims down this time aiming for the crippled ones head, as both fiends draw pistols ("Thank god they aren't wielding auto's" she thinks)
The bullet misses as one of theirs hit her leg, Biting her lip in pain she holds her breath and takes another shot,This time hitting her target, fiend 1's head. BAM! ("no shots but head shots eh?")
Fiend one dies from a minor headache =-p
fiend 2, assumed the leader of this poorly thought out partner ship is reloading walking closer when his gun jams
Fiend 2- "Damn cheap gun vendors" Drawing his machete he runs towards Marcy who is about 7 yards away,
Marcy takes aim noticing its her last bullet in the snipers clip.
Marcy-...*screams* "NOT TO SOUND CLICHE, BUT THIS ONE IS FOR FIDDLE" ("Even at deaths door i worry about what this scum thinks of me? i need help")
Her last bullet fires...Enters the fiends unfortunately armored helmet through the eyehole, but doesn't make it through the back of the helmet.
Limping over she takes his machete and continues to dismember his body for several minutes before breaking down in tears.
After digging the bullet out of her leg she covers it in a paste the nameless woman showed her. ("seriously, she never told me her name, she said to refer to her as the nameless woman, maybe my mind isnt so bad off after all")
Feeling her gait has regained some power she removes the fiends helmet only to see its a girl ("ahhh, not a partnership, a relationship. Cute. for a murderer")
The bullet falls out. she picks it up and considers it luck from this day forth.
Still carrying it with her, she'll tell no one that she named this inanimate object "Fiddles Love"
Background: "Dad says our blood is one of the purest in the country!"
Born of innocence, raised in blood, Edith never felt the lows of human emotion.
Not that she didn't see death every day, It just never bothered her.
Birthed in a homemade rowboat because her parents couldn't reach shore in time, Her unhealthy fascination with water was life long. She often would laugh and say the best times of her life were spent in a pool of her own blood. The blissful, nonchalant tone her voice carried baffled even her parents. For how could one be so calm, when almost like clockwork men would attempt to break in to their small 1 room lakeside home in Oregon, only to die at the hands of her hawkeyed father. He'd set up a 8 foot steel gate around the perimeter, but always left the gateway open with a sign in front that read "This way to hell!" A silent yellow light alarm would blink when anyone came within 10 feet of this sign, alerting her father to draw his "second daughter". A 1987 McMillan M89 sniper rifle to which his family had passed down since even before the bombs dropped. "No shots but head shots"...Her mind was littered with his quips(Not a day passes where she doesn't hear his voice in her head, but we'll get to that). He would always wait till sunrise to check and loot the bodies because he said "that's when the real crazies are sleeping off their jet binges" Though dead bodies littered the ground, it never stopped the drug induced confidence of raiders. Her parents expected, even planned for their child's violent tendencies, but to their surprise, they never showed. Accepting hers, and the fates of those around her silently, she would constantly be asked-
"doesn't any of this bother you?" to which she would reply "Should it? This is how things ARE"
Most of her time was spent in the second floor of her basement, of which had 6 floors all with various uses, the 2nd being where they slept, jokingly called the bedroom.
A great wide room covered every 6 feet with a cot. Her father said this house had once been a small military fort for a rebellion in the late 2000's but was inhabited by drug addicts and whores shortly before the great war. dad says it wasn't too hard for his great grandparents to kill that many burnouts with his old war buddies. Since then our family lived and died here. Until me.Unbeknownst to us Raiders recently had set up camp a few miles outside out house, knowing full well the death that awaited any that passed the threshold. They tracked my father movements and saw his early morning routines as an opening. Not even his eyes saw the barrel of the missile launcher jutting out of the false rock the raiders had set up the week before. The gate and the sign were destroyed with another shot, and our front door with another After my mom\ heard (or felt, more like it) the blast of the rockets, she told me to run to the 6th floor saferoom, but before we could reach the elevator shaft we heard the raiders come down the utility stairs, my mother, fearful of our fates told me to go hide, being 15 all i could think of was under a bed. Thinking back all i can do is laugh at the movie cliche ive seen so many times. a child hidden under a bed that can do nothing but listen. Listen to what? I don't need to say. Moving on, after the rooms had been searched they assumed all was clear, the only reason i wasn't found was because the leader had laid claim to the house immediately and was too lazy to check all of the 64 beds in the room. In the next 14 hours, i could only sit there as they relived the death of my parents, and the sound of satisfaction in their voices was enough to make a girl cry. when the man kicked his friends out and finally chose a bed to black out on, i slit his throat like a chord, took his gun and shot his diseased **** off. Knowing this wasn't the end, i snuck through the rest of the house only to find him alone here. Selfish *****, 64 beds and he didn't give up one.
Grabbing supplies i headed upstairs, but carefully- Surely this man couldn't be stupid enough to stay here alone? If ignorance is bliss, then i just freaking killed king george, because not once bandit was anywhere near my house. he had even set up new signs declaring the land Rapist Utopia. Even I had to laugh at that.
Walking by the remains of my father i pressed on, only after taking his rifle from what used to be his hand did i start to tear. Mom always talked about how orderly it was in California, and how a new sort of justice system had been set up called the NCR. Determined to join them i traveled south. Shaved head, and constantly hooded i blended in to any caravan i could find, more than once raiders had attacked. More than once i surprised by fellow travelers with my prone style shooting of my fathers rifle. in all the parties ive accompanied never has more than 2 people died on my watch. Reaching Cali, i was told one of the most profitable towns i could be apart of was San fran. Eagerly i pushed on. hoping to live out my life under the watch of true lawbringers. I found out later, though, that the man i had spoken to was a raider, and was implying that it was a nice place to kill and steal. Had i known that... well forget it, anyways- I was traveling with a large caravan, 20 miles outside of my dream city when my throat closed up. Thinking i had been drugged, I start waving my gun around attempting to scream "WHO DID IT, ILL HAVE YOU KNOW I LINED THE INSIDE OF MY ***** WITH BARBED WIRE, RAPE ME IF YOU FREAKING DARE YOU PIGS"
Though all that came out was spit and loud coughing sounds. 3 guns pointed at my head, i blacked out. I awoke in a small handmade shack covered in plants. Vines on the walls,Some even growing out of the floor. Greenery literally everywhere. I hope for safety and fell back into the darkness.
this time what awoke me was the screeching of a man whos lungs were filling with blood, i sat up expecting danger, only to find a woman tending to a cat giving birth.
"9000 caps, they said. PER CAT! Never thought my little friends would make me rich. but ill never sell them." This insane woman explained to me how when she saw the spots on the back of my throat, she knew what it was. everyone else in the caravan was ready to kill me and leave my body for the raiders, but she stopped them, and said i was suffering from a rare lung condition, that back in the prewar days they would vaccinate you for. All it took was a homemade version of this remedy, and i was good as new. I learned from her that i had reached my home and was free to leave at my own leisure(although she hinted at wanting my company) I ended up spending 3 years with this woman, learning her way with plants, mainly the treatment for radiation as its alot worse here than it is in Oregon. Reading her prewar books, and actually having fun for once in more than a few years. I grew attached to a cat of pure black, her brothers and sisters all had matching names, skittles was multicolored, piddles loved to mark her territory, and my buddy fiddles was a curious little scamp. Now that i have a companion, i travel around the city, going wherever a hired gun is needed, never settling down anywhere(that isnt a bar)
Now fiddle is 8 and knows the dangers of this place ("never thought id see a cat kill a scorpion..") and we spend every minute together. When i scout out my surroundings, i nolonger do it for my safety, I do it for hers.
~~~~~
I'm told that the rape and the language may be a little over the top, and i may need lower it a bit. I will happily do so.
But know that my Character doesnt run around cursing, and that the language in there is used in stressful times when i honestly think it would be used. And although i hear you dont tolerate rape, i consider it crucial to my story, as that is a main fear as a woman. I feel it gives her more personality. That in mind- I will change anything you want if you feel its too needlessly vulgar.
ALSO! If accepted id really like to jump right in and practice my RP, If your psychiatrist position is still open for the vault Id really LOVE to be that. Since ive been wanting to be a criminal psychologist since i was 13, Id really enjoy interacting with players like this.
P.S. Sorry for the bad spacing at some parts, it went all weird on me when i posted it
It would be best if you read the background first, as it explain the rest of my character.- Seriously, alot of emotional value is lost if you dont read the background before any other IC things.
And sorry if i switch from third person to first mid background, i just got into it is all...
OOC~~~
IGN:Chillydown
Age:17
Time you can dedicate:As an insomniac 90% of my game time will be in the early AMs so a couple hours a day
Why us?:A builder is a friend, the stories he has told me of your skyrim RP server got me close to joining it. Now that you have BNW there's no doubt i want to be apart of this. I've done very little RPing but I'm not ignorant to the rules. I have tons of patience and will happily make a new character if mine happens to die (very likely)
All in all i think this would be an interesting way to spend my time.
Define Role-Playing in your words: Assuming the perception, mindset, physical, and emotional traits of a ficticious character
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Admittedly i just learned about this term, but notice its crucial to RPing- When the character knows a fact(that the player does) he should not, like knowing something that was posted on the forums when there would be no way of him getting this information, or seeing names through walls.
Define Power-gaming in your words:When you attempt an unrealistic (to the realm you are playing) action, such as picking an expert lock, instead of attempting to pick it. Or killing a behemoth with a box of cram. I fully understand this concept when it comes to battle, and interaction with other players
Did you join our website? indeed
IC~~~
Name:Edith Mushnick
Nickname:Marcy
Age:32
Gender:Femme Fatale♥
Appearance:Shaved head since she left her home, skinny, but not petite. Looks alot older than she actually is, possibly because of her oldworld European blood (her family has lived in America since the first civil war, but they came in from Italy)
Never removes her hood, making it even harder to tell her age.
Personality:An emotionally crippled paranoid. Enjoys eavesdropping, loves to listen, hesitant to speak. Constantly worries about being judged, so attempts to make as little impact as possible. And yet she is (like us all) Quick to judge, but not outspokenly so- Example- Is kind to every one she meets (out of caution) but only those she deems truly worthy does she speak more than a sentence to. At this point in her life currently mourning one of her greatest possessions, her cat Fiddle ( i don't need to tell you the rarity of a domesticated animals in this world) So her mood darkens quicker than usual.
Unusually prone to violence, not out of necessity but out of nature. Inwardly enjoys ending lives, but only kills if she wont be looked down on for it.
Also- Uses the Micro-nap schedule for sleep, so shes never caught off guard.(google it if you dont know)
In-game RP example:
Walking along a well traveled route alone with her cat near sunrise,
*Marcy notices a picture perfect record player that's softly humming a song she knew all too well- I don't want to set the world on fire-The Ink Spots
*Marcy Checks the perimeter, assumes shes alone and walks up to it.
Noticing a piece of paper taped to it "where the hell did someone get tape?"
She walks to pick it up but only gets a few feet before she reads it "BIG MISTAKE"
The sound of a mine interests her cat and as she pounces it explodes.
Marcy attempts to roll out of the blast but is hit by shrapnel, the cries of a raider and his partner come from farther down the road
"CRAPCRAPCRAP, not like this, not like this!" Laying on her stomach now she proceeds to take aim at the one with less armor.
Fiend 1-catches it in the shoulder and falls
Quickly she aims down this time aiming for the crippled ones head, as both fiends draw pistols ("Thank god they aren't wielding auto's" she thinks)
The bullet misses as one of theirs hit her leg, Biting her lip in pain she holds her breath and takes another shot,This time hitting her target, fiend 1's head. BAM! ("no shots but head shots eh?")
Fiend one dies from a minor headache =-p
fiend 2, assumed the leader of this poorly thought out partner ship is reloading walking closer when his gun jams
Fiend 2- "Damn cheap gun vendors" Drawing his machete he runs towards Marcy who is about 7 yards away,
Marcy takes aim noticing its her last bullet in the snipers clip.
Marcy-...*screams* "NOT TO SOUND CLICHE, BUT THIS ONE IS FOR FIDDLE" ("Even at deaths door i worry about what this scum thinks of me? i need help")
Her last bullet fires...Enters the fiends unfortunately armored helmet through the eyehole, but doesn't make it through the back of the helmet.
Limping over she takes his machete and continues to dismember his body for several minutes before breaking down in tears.
After digging the bullet out of her leg she covers it in a paste the nameless woman showed her. ("seriously, she never told me her name, she said to refer to her as the nameless woman, maybe my mind isnt so bad off after all")
Feeling her gait has regained some power she removes the fiends helmet only to see its a girl ("ahhh, not a partnership, a relationship. Cute. for a murderer")
The bullet falls out. she picks it up and considers it luck from this day forth.
Still carrying it with her, she'll tell no one that she named this inanimate object "Fiddles Love"
Background: "Dad says our blood is one of the purest in the country!"
Born of innocence, raised in blood, Edith never felt the lows of human emotion.
Not that she didn't see death every day, It just never bothered her.
Birthed in a homemade rowboat because her parents couldn't reach shore in time, Her unhealthy fascination with water was life long. She often would laugh and say the best times of her life were spent in a pool of her own blood. The blissful, nonchalant tone her voice carried baffled even her parents. For how could one be so calm, when almost like clockwork men would attempt to break in to their small 1 room lakeside home in Oregon, only to die at the hands of her hawkeyed father. He'd set up a 8 foot steel gate around the perimeter, but always left the gateway open with a sign in front that read "This way to hell!" A silent yellow light alarm would blink when anyone came within 10 feet of this sign, alerting her father to draw his "second daughter". A 1987 McMillan M89 sniper rifle to which his family had passed down since even before the bombs dropped. "No shots but head shots"...Her mind was littered with his quips(Not a day passes where she doesn't hear his voice in her head, but we'll get to that). He would always wait till sunrise to check and loot the bodies because he said "that's when the real crazies are sleeping off their jet binges" Though dead bodies littered the ground, it never stopped the drug induced confidence of raiders. Her parents expected, even planned for their child's violent tendencies, but to their surprise, they never showed. Accepting hers, and the fates of those around her silently, she would constantly be asked-
"doesn't any of this bother you?" to which she would reply "Should it? This is how things ARE"
Most of her time was spent in the second floor of her basement, of which had 6 floors all with various uses, the 2nd being where they slept, jokingly called the bedroom.
A great wide room covered every 6 feet with a cot. Her father said this house had once been a small military fort for a rebellion in the late 2000's but was inhabited by drug addicts and whores shortly before the great war. dad says it wasn't too hard for his great grandparents to kill that many burnouts with his old war buddies. Since then our family lived and died here. Until me.Unbeknownst to us Raiders recently had set up camp a few miles outside out house, knowing full well the death that awaited any that passed the threshold. They tracked my father movements and saw his early morning routines
as an opening. Not even his eyes saw the barrel of the missile launcher jutting out of the false rock the raiders had set up the week before. The gate and the sign were destroyed with another shot, and our front door with another After my mom\ heard (or felt, more like it) the blast of the rockets, she told me to run to the 6th floor saferoom, but before we could reach the elevator shaft we heard the raiders come down the utility stairs, my mother, fearful of our fates told me to go hide, being 15 all i could think of was under a bed. Thinking back all i can do is laugh at the movie cliche ive seen so many times. a
child hidden under a bed that can do nothing but listen. Listen to what? I don't need to say. Moving on, after the rooms had been searched they assumed all was clear, the only reason i wasn't found was because the leader had laid claim to the house immediately and was too lazy to check all of the 64 beds in the room. In the next 14 hours, i could only sit there as they relived the death of my parents, and the sound of satisfaction in their voices was enough to make a girl cry. when the man kicked his friends out and finally chose a bed to black out on, i slit his throat like a chord, took his gun and shot his
diseased **** off. Knowing this wasn't the end, i snuck through the rest of the house only to find him alone here. Selfish *****, 64 beds and he didn't give up one.
Grabbing supplies i headed upstairs, but carefully- Surely this man couldn't be stupid enough to stay here alone? If ignorance is bliss, then i just freaking killed king george, because not once bandit was anywhere near my house. he had even set up new signs declaring the land Rapist Utopia. Even I had to laugh at that.
Walking by the remains of my father i pressed on, only after taking his rifle from what used to be his hand did i start to tear. Mom always talked about how orderly it was in California, and how a new sort of justice system had been set up called the NCR. Determined to join them i traveled south. Shaved head, and constantly hooded i blended in to any caravan i could find, more than once raiders had attacked. More than once i surprised by fellow travelers with my prone style shooting of my fathers rifle. in all the parties ive accompanied never has more than 2 people died on my watch. Reaching Cali, i was told one of the most profitable towns i could be apart of was San fran. Eagerly i pushed on. hoping to live out my life under the watch of true lawbringers. I found out later, though, that the man i had spoken to was a raider, and was implying that it was a nice place to kill and steal. Had i known that... well forget it, anyways- I was traveling with a large caravan, 20 miles outside of my dream city when my throat closed up. Thinking i had been drugged, I start waving my gun around attempting to scream "WHO DID IT, ILL HAVE YOU KNOW I LINED THE INSIDE OF MY ***** WITH BARBED WIRE, RAPE ME IF YOU FREAKING DARE YOU PIGS"
Though all that came out was spit and loud coughing sounds. 3 guns pointed at my head, i blacked out. I awoke in a small handmade shack covered in plants. Vines on the walls,Some even growing out of the floor. Greenery literally everywhere. I hope for safety and fell back into the darkness.
this time what awoke me was the screeching of a man whos lungs were filling with blood, i sat up expecting danger, only to find a woman tending to a cat giving birth.
"9000 caps, they said. PER CAT! Never thought my little friends would make me rich. but ill never sell them." This insane woman explained to me how when she saw the spots on the back of my throat, she knew what it was. everyone else in the caravan was ready to kill me and leave my body for the raiders, but she stopped them, and said i was suffering from a rare lung condition, that back in the prewar days they would vaccinate you for. All it took was a homemade version of this remedy, and i was good as new. I learned from her that i had reached my home and was free to leave at my own leisure(although she hinted at wanting my company) I ended up spending 3 years with this woman, learning her way with plants, mainly the treatment for radiation as its alot worse here than it is in Oregon. Reading her prewar books, and actually having fun for once in more than a few years. I grew attached to a cat of pure black, her brothers and sisters all had matching names, skittles was multicolored, piddles loved to mark her territory, and my buddy fiddles was a curious little scamp. Now that i have a companion, i travel around the city, going wherever a hired gun is needed, never settling down anywhere(that isnt a bar)
Now fiddle is 8 and knows the dangers of this place ("never thought id see a cat kill a scorpion..") and we spend every minute together. When i scout out my surroundings, i nolonger do it for my safety, I do it for hers.
~~~~~
I'm told that the rape and the language may be a little over the top, and i may need lower it a bit. I will happily do so.
But know that my Character doesnt run around cursing, and that the language in there is used in stressful times when i honestly think it would be used. And although i hear you dont tolerate rape, i consider it crucial to my story, as that is a main fear as a woman. I feel it gives her more personality. That in mind- I will change anything you want if you feel its too needlessly vulgar.
ALSO! If accepted id really like to jump right in and practice my RP, If your psychiatrist position is still open for the vault Id really LOVE to be that. Since ive been wanting to be a criminal psychologist since i was 13, Id really enjoy interacting with players like this.
P.S. Sorry for the bad spacing at some parts, it went all weird on me when i posted it
Third attempt everyone. Why won't you love me! But really look it over it again please.
OOC: IGN:mdSketch
Age:15
Time you can dedicate: 2 on weekdays and varies but about 3 hours on weekends
Why us?: Looks like the most decent Rp server on here.
Define Role-Playing in your words: Using a made up character in a made up world
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Using information that your character wouldn't know
Define Power-gaming in your words: thinking your character can do anything and forcing actions on players. For instance, saying that a player did someone instead of attempt to do it.
Did you join our website? Yes.
IC: Name: Mayson Davis
Nickname: None
Age: 15
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Generic white wastelander skin with an outfit constructed from various Nuka Cola machines and parts. Metallic and rusty, it makes for a well armored outfit. He has dark blue eyes with short brown hair covered by a Nuka Cola cap. He is rather short for his age (even if you can't change that in Minecraft.)
Personality: Quiet, smart and friendly from his constant relationship from his father. Not good with socializing with authority figures due to lack of experience with other people. He doesn't like people he hasn't met quite yet. For example if he knew his cousin from three years old, then he would not have a problem being with him. On the other hand, if he was given a person to work with out of the blue then he would have a small problem. In a word, Mayson is "shy."
In-game RP example: Mayson takes his early walk, enjoying every little detail. He notices an animal he has never seen in person before, a dog with an exposed brain in a glass case attached to wires. It growled and Mayson backed away. Then another person showed up handling a wad of wire. "What are you doing with my dog, pal." He said. Mayson preferred to not get in any confrontation. He hoped he would have some chance of calming him down. "Well... I was just observing your craft of the Cyborg." Mayson replied sheepishly. "and on your dog even. That takes some skill." "Yeah I guess, Sharp's brain pattern is a bit more difficult than your average human," the stranger said. "I like you, man" "Hey, I've got some implants myself. Would you like to compare notes?" Mayson asked. The stranger smiled and waved Mayson inside. In the house there were numerous workstations for things like rifle scopes to food purifiers. This man definitely doesn't work on just robots. "Nice setup" Mayson complemented from one side of the room. "Eh, it's a but messy. I don't mind if you look around." the man said with an odd smile. Sharp was trotting about with Mayson. Mayson went into the basement after he heard a strange noise. He saw a woman tied on to a board with a part of her head still open. Sharp went back up the stairs. "What happened to you?!" Mayson exclaimed. The woman was just mumbling to herself. Then she looked over Mayson's shoulder with wide eyes. Mayson followed her gaze to the man. He had a gun in his hands and a dog at his side. "I see you have found my mother" He said with a deadly stare in Mayson eyes. "Jesus man, this is your mother?" Mayson yelled. He stopped talking, realizing he is at the business end of a Hunting Rifle. "When I say you could look around, I meant that by a 'don't go past the employees only sign' Mayson" He said pointing at the door. "She was dying." "That's no excuse to cut her open" "I was fixing her" The man raised his voice. " I thought... I thought I knew what I was doing. It worked on Sharp, so I thought-" "look it's fine. What's wrong with her?" Mayson calmly asked. By this time the man had his gun pointed toward the ground. "It's none of your business. I just need to think!" He raised his voice again. "I need something. It's in some building, but there are ghouls." "Um... I could do it." Mayson offered. He couldn't bear to have another person lose their mother. The man told Mayson about the building and what he needed. Mayson was rather young, so he didn't know how he could pull this off. They were only ghouls so he could use stealth. Mayson began for the building...
Background: Mayson Davis was part of a seemingly nice family that were all born in Oakland near San Francisco. that of four actually. Mayson, his two parents and his sister who met an untimely end with a group of slavers. Mayson really didn't think much of his sister, always trying to out-do her. From finishing a meal faster to finishing home-school earlier, Mayson was always one step ahead. He barely remembered her name, something with an "A?" Furious with his daughter's death, the father started to test on his son Mayson. He began with simple implants that he stole when he was young. Giving him a bit of an edge in the father's teachings, the father decided to continue the testing. He exceeded these implants on Mayson. Making him a bit smarter every week or so. His father kept him inside most of the day to study. Mayson had had enough.
Two years after countless testing, he ran off in search for a purpose. He figured his new found know-how can get him a job and influence people to help him. He began to find an easy job at a Nuka Cola Vendor. This required skill in scavenging than actual business. He was sent to various stores and abandoned shacks to collect. Every twenty bottles of Nuka he got, he could keep two and and caps aw well. When he earned enough caps he went to find a proper education. There were almost no makeshift schools around the San Fran area. Then a man in a Vault-Tec suit appeared. He took Mayson under his wing and he learned from the Vault-Tec man. Surprised by the man's origins, Mayson decided to learn the man's story.
Turns out the Vault man was an Overseer of a certain vault. For some reason the man's jumpsuit's number was removed. Mayson didn't have the stones to pry into that one. He decided to investigate himself. Mayson asked his next questions carefully. "So when did you leave your Vault?" or "Did you have a family?" He pieced the evidence together in his spare time and realized this Vault-Tec man was Overseer Hayne. Of course he didn't want to reveal his name. He released modified FEV into his vault, thinking he could make some sort of enforced evolutionary virus (Mayson figured that is what FEV meant.) The virus modified a gene to make the vault dwellers see better. It was harmless until it mutated into a form of cancer that spread fast. Chemo wasn't available so they were dead within a week. The vault was infested with something worse than any radiation can do.Shocked with this discovery, Mayson decided it was time to run away again. For once, he looked back on to not his father's teachings, but his sincere advice: "Son, if you are ever in a jam, go to San Francisco. Mayson stuck to the sparse roads and outsmart the bandits, thieves, and slavers...
I'm cool with it. Its a filter for serious RP'ers i bet this set of servers rarely gets griefed
Im hoping i have all the needed elements, took me more than a few hours to finish.
How many attempts did it take you?
OOC: IGN: imageaudio Age: 18 Time you can dedicate: various amounts Why us?: I played on Akavir and also like Fallout. Define Role-Playing in your words: (See front page for examples) Define Meta-gaming in your words:Meta Gaming is using OOC information to determine IC choices. Define Power-gaming in your words: Power Gaming is forcing actions upon others without giving them the opportunity to respond. Did you join our website? Yes
IC: Name: Bill Caliber Nickname: Age: 19 Gender: Male Appearance:He is 5" 9' and has a light weight muscle build. His skin is that of a caucasian with a tan. His eyes are blue. He has black hair that looks like a greasers. Personality: He is often skeptic at first and untrusting. He likes to keep to himself, unless he makes s a friend. He's a loyal companion and strives to survive. He believes living is the most important thing in life. In-game RP example: *Bill approaches stranger cautiously and shouts from a good 15 feet.* Hello there!
*His pistol remains by his side in case of any trouble.*
*The strange traveler moves closer seeming to be carrying with him a wide variety of things ranging from pots and pans to electronic components and radroach meats. As he nears to speaking range he waves friendly towards Bill and replies with a* Hello! I am a traveling merchant. Are you interested in buying any goods?
*Bill looks at the man sadly realizing he has nothing to trade and replies* I am sorry sir, but I have nothing of value I couldn't do without myself. Where might the nearest settlement be?
*The man replies* Just keep heading up north. Your going the right way.
*They both make their farewells and head on their way.*
Background: Bill grew up in a vault where his parents raised him almost as if he had a normal childhood and it was normal other than the fact that he was underground in a vault. He was shielded from the apocalyptic wastes that surrounded them. He attended school daily and learned many things until he chose the career of vault security. He was trained to proficiently use a 10mm pistol and a police baton. He had little knowledge of what truly was outside but was told that he should never leave. They lived in a sort of Utopia, well until "the incident" happened. Bill was 17 at the time. During training for the engineers to be, one of the students thought it would be funny to pull a prank on his friend. This student was none other than the class clown named Bobby. Anyways Bobby wanted to scare his friend Phil, so he put a bucket over his head and found a spare foot long bolt that edged off to a point. After dressing up in his get up Bobby hide around the corner of a generator in wait. Phil rounded the corner with his classmates and Bobby jumped out at phil with the bolt as if he was going to kill Phil. Phil reacted frightfully and knocked the bolt out of Bobby's hand. The bolt flew into the gears of a generator and caused it to malfunction. The lead engineer hurried over to fix the problem as flashing red lights and sirens began to appear and sound sporadically, but he was too late. Soon a chain reaction had been set off causing all of the generators to burn out and explode. Many of the students in the engineering room were trapped, injured, or killed as the room collapsed on all of them.
The Vault was left without any engineers and their necessary power was now gone. Mass panic spread throughout the whole vault as it's residents began to grab any and everything important and useful they could get their hands on, but this was only the beginning of their problems. Bill returned to his family and they held up in his family's dwelling as chaos ran loose upon the vault. Family turned on family as a week passed and soon after two weeks passed and supplies ran low competing families began to steal from each other and tension rose even further. During the third week a strange new group of beings had entered their vault. The beings were all hulking and male. Their skin was green and they looked as if they slightly resembled humans in a strange sort of way. The new group of strange beings known largely as super mutants began scavenging what they could find of the vault. Their band consisted of 12 members, all carrying nail boards, while there was 8 families in the vault with an average of 4 per family. The families consisted of children, teenagers, adults, and elderly, but there were only 13 people you would consider adults not of old age. Every family hid silently in their room scared of the bizarre intruders. They all laid in wait until some of them began to beat down at a few families doors. Once again panic arose amongst the Vault dwellers. Many stayed in their homes, many fled or attempted to at least. Bill wanted to flee but his parents hesitated. They began to argue, but a super mutant began beating down their door and everyone's eyes averted to that direction. It was now or never. Bill charged through the door with an adrenaline rush hoping his parents would follow, while discharged his 10mm pistol at the super mutant. He put a good 7 bullet into the super mutants chest before it fell to the ground injured and continued to run toward the exit of the vault. A few members of the vault followed behind until they arrived at the exit. He turned around only to notice his parents were not with him, as the vault door opened with a hiss. His friend grabbed him and yanked him out of the vault into the wilds in a rush to get away from the super mutants. It was a horrid day because after everything only 5 survivors from the vault were left. They began to wander throughout the waste and headed up north. As they journeyed for a good 2 years surviving only 3 remained and when they came close to San Franscisco the 3 split. Bill decided he would head on to see what San Franscisco might hold for him.
Powers up vault boy 3000
*Walks in from the outside door while sirens blaze and the city burns behind him* Oh, hello, I didn't see you there. A review? I suppose I can give you one real quick. - Personality: While there's nothing wrong with this, I would like you to expand on it just a bit more. I want you to really think about your character and know how he's going to act when situations arise. Character depth is how we get good RP on our server! Nothing else is going to keep you from getting denied, but I'm holding back acceptance for now and letting you concentrate on that one aspect of your character. Don't disappoint me!
Ok everything is fixed now! Please check it out!
Hello I am Gdp203, before I let you in I have a few problems.
-RP definition is blank, please fill that out.
-Appearance is kinda short for my liking. Try describing as much as you can such as why he dresses a certain way and what not.
-Personality can also us more wording, try getting to the nitty gritty of things.
-RP example is short and needs more expansion and build up. If it is going to be short make some action rather than two wastelanders meeting up.
-Your backstory has an odd thing I find abit odd. How can one screw just simply land on a generator causing a malfunction? Did they also hire the wrong guys or are they just not professional, or they are as dumb as a bag of hammers. Now, while I can say its a nice little way of telling us he is a dumby, I would like to also ask this, also, why would your friend attack an OFFICER WITH A GUN?!!?!?!?!?!? None of this really seems possible, and the vault dwellers wouldn't make it very long if you know what I mean.
Hello I am Gdp203, before I let you in I have a few problems.
-RP definition is blank, please fill that out.
-Appearance is kinda short for my liking. Try describing as much as you can such as why he dresses a certain way and what not.
-Personality can also us more wording, try getting to the nitty gritty of things.
-RP example is short and needs more expansion and build up. If it is going to be short make some action rather than two wastelanders meeting up.
-Your backstory has an odd thing I find abit odd. How can one screw just simply land on a generator causing a malfunction? Did they also hire the wrong guys or are they just not professional, or they are as dumb as a bag of hammers. Now, while I can say its a nice little way of telling us he is a dumby, I would like to also ask this, also, why would your friend attack an OFFICER WITH A GUN?!!?!?!?!?!? None of this really seems possible, and the vault dwellers wouldn't make it very long if you know what I mean.
Appearance: blonde/brown green eyes, Average height, skinny, Personality: Gets mad VERY easily but only for good reasons, VERY patriotic, Longs for authority (As in Police, Military) Thinks people need to be protected from themselves, Nice to strangers
In-game RP example: (Include dialog
Me: *Poking around at a campfire with a stick*
(Made up) Jim: Ay Nate
Me: Hm?
Jim: How farther do you think we are from San Francisco?
Me: Don't know, we left Sacramento about a week ago. Cant be far now.
Jim: Good, I don't think i can take anymore of these 200 year old MRE's
Me: I hope you like coconuts and bananas cuz (That's how he says it) well have plenty in San Francisco.
Jim: I don't even know what those are Nate. *Says jokingly*
Me: Neither do i but they gotta be better than this slop were used to
Jim: You said it brother.
Background: (Detailed and in-depth, 2 paragraphs)
Nate was born in an NCR camp 3 miles outside Sacramento in 2256. Him and his mother mother were required to live there since his father was a troop in the NCR. Not that they would have rather lived somewhere else. Nate and his mother had it pretty good in the camp. And his mother rarely left the camp. But Nate would go out every day to explore carefully avoiding raiders and mutated animals/Insects. Nates life changed drastically one faithful day when his father was KIA. Nate and his mother were no longer aloud to live in the camp because his father was dead. They were forced out, His mother, not being able to support her only son, Left him in Sacramento. Nate was lost until then. He was surly not going to make a living for himself in Sacramento. One chilling rainy night, As he attempted to sleep under a high way bridge. A scrap of paper hit his face, he quickly took it off and looks at it, It was a brightly colored 3 way folded piece of paper. He looked at it amazed, It read; SAN FRANCISCO'S WAITING FOR YOU. It brought tears to his eyes of how beautiful San Francisco looked, Trees, the Ocean, People with friendly faces, Food, Real food! He knew it was his destiny to go there. Sacramento was a black hole of dis-pare After the NCR left the city due to super mutants and raiders, it was complete chaos. The city was practically tearing itself apart. But all of that was behind him now. . .
COULDN'T FIGURE OUT A WAY TO MAKE THIS 2 PARAGRAPHS
Powering up Pipboy 3 Billion!
Power and Metagaming. I am going to need you to expand on these. They do not seem very acceptable. You may have the general idea, but I can not let it pass.
Appearance. I would like more detail on this. Is he tall? Short? What clothing is he wearing?
RP example. This could use some more detail. Add some more actions into it. Also, if he doesn't know what coconuts and bananas are, why would he mention them.
Backstory. I would like some more detail about his childhood. Exploring would most likely end with his death as he lacks any training in stealth and fighting, he would odds are stumble upon a mutant or raider some time. I would like more detail about him after his mother left. How did he survive after his mother left him? How did he get to San Francisco with no weapons? I would like a better reason to go to San Francisco then a piece of paper. The backstory needs to be expanded, it must be 2 paragraphs.
Until these are fixed you are....
To other applicants: Do not despair, your apps will be reviewed very soon!
It would be best if you read the background first, as it explain the rest of my character.- Seriously, alot of emotional value is lost if you dont read the background before any other IC things.
And sorry if i switch from third person to first mid background, i just got into it is all...
OOC~~~
IGN:Chillydown
Age:17
Time you can dedicate:As an insomniac 90% of my game time will be in the early AMs so a couple hours a day
Why us?:A builder is a friend, the stories he has told me of your skyrim RP server got me close to joining it. Now that you have BNW there's no doubt i want to be apart of this. I've done very little RPing but I'm not ignorant to the rules. I have tons of patience and will happily make a new character if mine happens to die (very likely)
All in all i think this would be an interesting way to spend my time.
Define Role-Playing in your words: Assuming the perception, mindset, physical, and emotional traits of a ficticious character
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Admittedly i just learned about this term, but notice its crucial to RPing- When the character knows a fact(that the player does) he should not, like knowing something that was posted on the forums when there would be no way of him getting this information, or seeing names through walls.
Define Power-gaming in your words:When you attempt an unrealistic (to the realm you are playing) action, such as picking an expert lock, instead of attempting to pick it. Or killing a behemoth with a box of cram. I fully understand this concept when it comes to battle, and interaction with other players
Did you join our website? indeed
IC~~~
Name:Edith Mushnick
Nickname:Marcy
Age:32
Gender:Femme Fatale♥
Appearance:Shaved head since she left her home, skinny, but not petite. Looks alot older than she actually is, possibly because of her oldworld European blood (her family has lived in America since the first civil war, but they came in from Italy)
Never removes her hood, making it even harder to tell her age.
Personality:An emotionally crippled paranoid. Enjoys eavesdropping, loves to listen, hesitant to speak. Constantly worries about being judged, so attempts to make as little impact as possible. And yet she is (like us all) Quick to judge, but not outspokenly so- Example- Is kind to every one she meets (out of caution) but only those she deems truly worthy does she speak more than a sentence to. At this point in her life currently mourning one of her greatest possessions, her cat Fiddle ( i don't need to tell you the rarity of a domesticated animals in this world) So her mood darkens quicker than usual.
Unusually prone to violence, not out of necessity but out of nature. Inwardly enjoys ending lives, but only kills if she wont be looked down on for it.
Also- Uses the Micro-nap schedule for sleep, so shes never caught off guard.(google it if you dont know)
In-game RP example:
Walking along a well traveled route alone with her cat near sunrise,
*Marcy notices a picture perfect record player that's softly humming a song she knew all too well- I don't want to set the world on fire-The Ink Spots
*Marcy Checks the perimeter, assumes shes alone and walks up to it.
Noticing a piece of paper taped to it "where the hell did someone get tape?"
She walks to pick it up but only gets a few feet before she reads it "BIG MISTAKE"
The sound of a mine interests her cat and as she pounces it explodes.
Marcy attempts to roll out of the blast but is hit by shrapnel, the cries of a raider and his partner come from farther down the road
"CRAPCRAPCRAP, not like this, not like this!" Laying on her stomach now she proceeds to take aim at the one with less armor.
Fiend 1-catches it in the shoulder and falls
Quickly she aims down this time aiming for the crippled ones head, as both fiends draw pistols ("Thank god they aren't wielding auto's" she thinks)
The bullet misses as one of theirs hit her leg, Biting her lip in pain she holds her breath and takes another shot,This time hitting her target, fiend 1's head. BAM! ("no shots but head shots eh?")
Fiend one dies from a minor headache =-p
fiend 2, assumed the leader of this poorly thought out partner ship is reloading walking closer when his gun jams
Fiend 2- "Damn cheap gun vendors" Drawing his machete he runs towards Marcy who is about 7 yards away,
Marcy takes aim noticing its her last bullet in the snipers clip.
Marcy-...*screams* "NOT TO SOUND CLICHE, BUT THIS ONE IS FOR FIDDLE" ("Even at deaths door i worry about what this scum thinks of me? i need help")
Her last bullet fires...Enters the fiends unfortunately armored helmet through the eyehole, but doesn't make it through the back of the helmet.
Limping over she takes his machete and continues to dismember his body for several minutes before breaking down in tears.
After digging the bullet out of her leg she covers it in a paste the nameless woman showed her. ("seriously, she never told me her name, she said to refer to her as the nameless woman, maybe my mind isnt so bad off after all")
Feeling her gait has regained some power she removes the fiends helmet only to see its a girl ("ahhh, not a partnership, a relationship. Cute. for a murderer")
The bullet falls out. she picks it up and considers it luck from this day forth.
Still carrying it with her, she'll tell no one that she named this inanimate object "Fiddles Love"
Background: "Dad says our blood is one of the purest in the country!"
Born of innocence, raised in blood, Edith never felt the lows of human emotion.
Not that she didn't see death every day, It just never bothered her.
Birthed in a homemade rowboat because her parents couldn't reach shore in time, Her unhealthy fascination with water was life long. She often would laugh and say the best times of her life were spent in a pool of her own blood. The blissful, nonchalant tone her voice carried baffled even her parents. For how could one be so calm, when almost like clockwork men would attempt to break in to their small 1 room lakeside home in Oregon, only to die at the hands of her hawkeyed father. He'd set up a 8 foot steel gate around the perimeter, but always left the gateway open with a sign in front that read "This way to hell!" A silent yellow light alarm would blink when anyone came within 10 feet of this sign, alerting her father to draw his "second daughter". A 1987 McMillan M89 sniper rifle to which his family had passed down since even before the bombs dropped. "No shots but head shots"...Her mind was littered with his quips(Not a day passes where she doesn't hear his voice in her head, but we'll get to that). He would always wait till sunrise to check and loot the bodies because he said "that's when the real crazies are sleeping off their jet binges" Though dead bodies littered the ground, it never stopped the drug induced confidence of raiders. Her parents expected, even planned for their child's violent tendencies, but to their surprise, they never showed. Accepting hers, and the fates of those around her silently, she would constantly be asked-
"doesn't any of this bother you?" to which she would reply "Should it? This is how things ARE"
Most of her time was spent in the second floor of her basement, of which had 6 floors all with various uses, the 2nd being where they slept, jokingly called the bedroom.
A great wide room covered every 6 feet with a cot. Her father said this house had once been a small military fort for a rebellion in the late 2000's but was inhabited by drug addicts and whores shortly before the great war. dad says it wasn't too hard for his great grandparents to kill that many burnouts with his old war buddies. Since then our family lived and died here. Until me.Unbeknownst to us Raiders recently had set up camp a few miles outside out house, knowing full well the death that awaited any that passed the threshold. They tracked my father movements and saw his early morning routines as an opening. Not even his eyes saw the barrel of the missile launcher jutting out of the false rock the raiders had set up the week before. The gate and the sign were destroyed with another shot, and our front door with another After my mom\ heard (or felt, more like it) the blast of the rockets, she told me to run to the 6th floor saferoom, but before we could reach the elevator shaft we heard the raiders come down the utility stairs, my mother, fearful of our fates told me to go hide, being 15 all i could think of was under a bed. Thinking back all i can do is laugh at the movie cliche ive seen so many times. a child hidden under a bed that can do nothing but listen. Listen to what? I don't need to say. Moving on, after the rooms had been searched they assumed all was clear, the only reason i wasn't found was because the leader had laid claim to the house immediately and was too lazy to check all of the 64 beds in the room. In the next 14 hours, i could only sit there as they relived the death of my parents, and the sound of satisfaction in their voices was enough to make a girl cry. when the man kicked his friends out and finally chose a bed to black out on, i slit his throat like a chord, took his gun and shot his diseased **** off. Knowing this wasn't the end, i snuck through the rest of the house only to find him alone here. Selfish *****, 64 beds and he didn't give up one.
Grabbing supplies i headed upstairs, but carefully- Surely this man couldn't be stupid enough to stay here alone? If ignorance is bliss, then i just freaking killed king george, because not once bandit was anywhere near my house. he had even set up new signs declaring the land Rapist Utopia. Even I had to laugh at that.
Walking by the remains of my father i pressed on, only after taking his rifle from what used to be his hand did i start to tear. Mom always talked about how orderly it was in California, and how a new sort of justice system had been set up called the NCR. Determined to join them i traveled south. Shaved head, and constantly hooded i blended in to any caravan i could find, more than once raiders had attacked. More than once i surprised by fellow travelers with my prone style shooting of my fathers rifle. in all the parties ive accompanied never has more than 2 people died on my watch. Reaching Cali, i was told one of the most profitable towns i could be apart of was San fran. Eagerly i pushed on. hoping to live out my life under the watch of true lawbringers. I found out later, though, that the man i had spoken to was a raider, and was implying that it was a nice place to kill and steal. Had i known that... well forget it, anyways- I was traveling with a large caravan, 20 miles outside of my dream city when my throat closed up. Thinking i had been drugged, I start waving my gun around attempting to scream "WHO DID IT, ILL HAVE YOU KNOW I LINED THE INSIDE OF MY ***** WITH BARBED WIRE, RAPE ME IF YOU FREAKING DARE YOU PIGS"
Though all that came out was spit and loud coughing sounds. 3 guns pointed at my head, i blacked out. I awoke in a small handmade shack covered in plants. Vines on the walls,Some even growing out of the floor. Greenery literally everywhere. I hope for safety and fell back into the darkness.
this time what awoke me was the screeching of a man whos lungs were filling with blood, i sat up expecting danger, only to find a woman tending to a cat giving birth.
"9000 caps, they said. PER CAT! Never thought my little friends would make me rich. but ill never sell them." This insane woman explained to me how when she saw the spots on the back of my throat, she knew what it was. everyone else in the caravan was ready to kill me and leave my body for the raiders, but she stopped them, and said i was suffering from a rare lung condition, that back in the prewar days they would vaccinate you for. All it took was a homemade version of this remedy, and i was good as new. I learned from her that i had reached my home and was free to leave at my own leisure(although she hinted at wanting my company) I ended up spending 3 years with this woman, learning her way with plants, mainly the treatment for radiation as its alot worse here than it is in Oregon. Reading her prewar books, and actually having fun for once in more than a few years. I grew attached to a cat of pure black, her brothers and sisters all had matching names, skittles was multicolored, piddles loved to mark her territory, and my buddy fiddles was a curious little scamp. Now that i have a companion, i travel around the city, going wherever a hired gun is needed, never settling down anywhere(that isnt a bar)
Now fiddle is 8 and knows the dangers of this place ("never thought id see a cat kill a scorpion..") and we spend every minute together. When i scout out my surroundings, i nolonger do it for my safety, I do it for hers.
~~~~~
I'm told that the rape and the language may be a little over the top, and i may need lower it a bit. I will happily do so.
But know that my Character doesnt run around cursing, and that the language in there is used in stressful times when i honestly think it would be used. And although i hear you dont tolerate rape, i consider it crucial to my story, as that is a main fear as a woman. I feel it gives her more personality. That in mind- I will change anything you want if you feel its too needlessly vulgar.
ALSO! If accepted id really like to jump right in and practice my RP, If your psychiatrist position is still open for the vault Id really LOVE to be that. Since ive been wanting to be a criminal psychologist since i was 13, Id really enjoy interacting with players like this.
P.S. Sorry for the bad spacing at some parts, it went all weird on me when i posted it
Hello Chilly, I am Gdp203.
First off, good app but you have these problems.
-Try revising the lore, some things are abit contradicting.
-Read the rules, missed something
-Would also ask for some more expansion on appearance maybe, ya know.
It seems that you either skipped my application or simply didn't read it yet and I'm being impatient, but I'm not sure it I should re-post or just wait. Just bringing that to your attention.
Sorry about that. I posted the wrong app that I didn't fix. Here's the correct one. Oh and to help you understand confusion about the backstory. This screw landed in a fan, sort of like a plane engine, the fan burst, leaving it useless. The burst of the fan altered the other fans, so that they also exploded. The head engineer wasn't dumb, he was just too late because the generator had already burst. Also, I don;t see where you're seeing any friend attacking an officer with a gun. Bill had a gun and he used it against the super mutants. Maybe that is what you're getting confused with.
OOC: IGN: imageaudio Age: 18 Time you can dedicate: various amounts Why us?: I played on Akavir and also like Fallout. Define Role-Playing in your words: Roleplaying is acting out a life as if you were a person or thing and doing things as they would. Define Meta-gaming in your words:Meta Gaming is using OOC information to determine IC choices. Define Power-gaming in your words: Power Gaming is forcing actions upon others without giving them the opportunity to respond. Did you join our website? Yes
IC: Name: Bill Caliber Nickname: Age: 19 Gender: Male Appearance:He is 5" 9' and has a light weight muscle build. His skin is that of a caucasian with a tan. His eyes are blue. He has black hair that looks like a greasers. He wears a vault suit and a greaser jacket over it. He dresses like this because he came from a vault and he found a box of greaser jackets which inspire him to create his own gang. However, he has not created any gang. He only hopes to create one. Just clarifying. Personality: He is often skeptic at first and untrusting. He likes to keep to himself, unless he makes s a friend. He's a loyal companion and strives to survive. He believes living is the most important thing in life. He is sometimes quick to trust others in a vault suit, but untrusting of others. He talks like a mobster would and hopes to start his own gang one day. He is good at keeping is cool, but when he loses it, he loses it bad. He knows when to make decisions quick to survive or when he can take his time and think things out. He has a weakness for "eye candy" AKA girls. He likes to sweet talk.
In-game RP example: *Bill approaches stranger cautiously and shouts from a good 15 feet.* Hello there!
*His pistol remains by his side in case of any trouble.*
*The strange traveler moves closer seeming to be carrying with him a wide variety of things ranging from pots and pans to electronic components and radroach meats. As he nears to speaking range he waves friendly towards Bill and replies with a* Hello! I am a traveling merchant. Are you interested in buying any goods?
*Bill looks at the man sadly realizing he has nothing to trade and replies* I am sorry sir, but I have nothing of value I couldn't do without myself. Where might the nearest settlement be?
*The man says nothing, but rather remains silent, as he digs through his bag*
*Bill watches the man carefully being distrusting of him*
*The man quickly turns around with a chinese assult rifle and begins blazing away*
*Bill ducks behind a nearby rock and shouts* I'll kill you damned fool*
*Bill unholsters his pistol and reaches it around the rock, aiming blindly and staying behind the cover*
*one of the bullets successfully hits the merchant and he runs off wounded*
*Bill comes from out over cover and scavenges the food that the merchant left behind*
*Bills says to himself* Oh! This will come in handy.
*Bill procedes to wander the wastes*
Background: Bill grew up in a vault where his parents raised him almost as if he had a normal childhood and it was normal other than the fact that he was underground in a vault. He was shielded from the apocalyptic wastes that surrounded them. He attended school daily and learned many things until he chose the career of vault security. He was trained to proficiently use a 10mm pistol and a police baton. He had little knowledge of what truly was outside but was told that he should never leave. They lived in a sort of Utopia, well until "the incident" happened. Bill was 17 at the time. During training for the engineers to be, one of the students thought it would be funny to pull a prank on his friend. This student was none other than the class clown named Bobby. Anyways Bobby wanted to scare his friend Phil, so he put a bucket over his head and found a spare foot long bolt that edged off to a point. After dressing up in his get up Bobby hide around the corner of a generator in wait. Phil rounded the corner with his classmates and Bobby jumped out at phil with the bolt as if he was going to kill Phil. Phil reacted frightfully and knocked the bolt out of Bobby's hand. The bolt flew into the gears of a generator and caused it to malfunction. The lead engineer hurried over to fix the problem as flashing red lights and sirens began to appear and sound sporadically, but he was too late. Soon a chain reaction had been set off causing all of the generators to burn out and explode. Many of the students in the engineering room were trapped, injured, or killed as the room collapsed on all of them.
The Vault was left without any engineers and their necessary power was now gone. Mass panic spread throughout the whole vault as it's residents began to grab any and everything important and useful they could get their hands on, but this was only the beginning of their problems. Bill returned to his family and they held up in his family's dwelling as chaos ran loose upon the vault. Family turned on family as a week passed and soon after two weeks passed and supplies ran low competing families began to steal from each other and tension rose even further. During the third week a strange new group of beings had entered their vault. The beings were all hulking and male. Their skin was green and they looked as if they slightly resembled humans in a strange sort of way. The new group of strange beings known largely as super mutants began scavenging what they could find of the vault. Their band consisted of 12 members, all carrying nail boards, while there was 8 families in the vault with an average of 4 per family. The families consisted of children, teenagers, adults, and elderly, but there were only 13 people you would consider adults not of old age. Every family hid silently in their room scared of the bizarre intruders. They all laid in wait until some of them began to beat down at a few families doors. Once again panic arose amongst the Vault dwellers. Many stayed in their homes, many fled or attempted to at least. Bill wanted to flee but his parents hesitated. They began to argue, but a super mutant began beating down their door and everyone's eyes averted to that direction. It was now or never. Bill charged through the door with an adrenaline rush hoping his parents would follow, while discharged his 10mm pistol at the super mutant. He put a good 7 bullet into the super mutants chest before it fell to the ground injured and continued to run toward the exit of the vault. A few members of the vault followed behind until they arrived at the exit. He turned around only to notice his parents were not with him, as the vault door opened with a hiss. His friend grabbed him and yanked him out of the vault into the wilds in a rush to get away from the super mutants. It was a horrid day because after everything only 5 survivors from the vault were left. They began to wander throughout the waste and headed up north. As they journeyed for a good 2 years surviving only 3 remained and when they came close to San Franscisco the 3 split. Bill decided he would head on to see what San Franscisco might hold for him.
I'm cool with it. Its a filter for serious RP'ers i bet this set of servers rarely gets griefed
Im hoping i have all the needed elements, took me more than a few hours to finish.
How many attempts did it take you?
I didn't get on SoOf... Never even heard of it untill after I joined Akavir, 3 Attempts to make Jod, my first char on Akavir, and here so far its like... 4... 5??? Dunno, still attempting.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Miley Cyrus entered my room. She approached slowly, with a grin on her face...
OOC: Out of character
IGN: knight_of_fire98
Age:15
Time you can dedicate:5-6 hours a day.
Why us?: I’ve been role-playing on Akavir since the opening and have really enjoyed the experience and I really enjoy the fallout universe and all it has to offer so naturally I’ve chosen you guys again!
Define Role-Playing in your words: Role-playing is when you take on the guise of a character and act and speak as if you are the character you're portraying.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Using OOC information IC.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Forcing an action upon someone eg *Shoots the raider in the head* when it should be *Attempts to shoot the raider in the head*, powergaming is also doing things your character couldnt do, or being overpowered in a god like ways.
Did you join our website?: Jes
IC:
Name: Ryan “Bay” Reynolds
Nickname: Bay
Age:31
Gender: Male
Appearance:Reynolds is a white caucasian andhe stands at the height of 5,10 which is just above average, he suffers from a genetic condition that causes him to have one green(right) and one amber(left) eye, a long and jagged scar running over his right eyebrow to just below his bottom eyelid, his hair is rough, short, black and slightly graying, he’s usually seen in his dark denim jacket that rests well over his muscled, lean, badly scarred body, with a bandolier of .357 magnum rounds running across his chest, his trousers were once expensive looking, but have been patched countless times, his belt holds his broken magnum that has no holster, a pair of cuffs, and a small knife rests in a hidden sheath on his left leg, causing a slight bulge that may be noticed by perceptive people.
He's a gruff looking man with a closely shaved 9 o'clock shadow, occationally small cuts may litter his lower face from screw ups with his knife while shaving but non deep enough to scar, his teeth are stained yellow, yet in good condition despite the lack of dental care in the wastes, his left ear is missing nearly half of its outer flesh, a wound that was caused by the shrapnel from a grenade.
On his left hand a scar could be seen, although trying to tell whether it was caused by someone stabbing a knife through it, or a nasty accident is near impossible unless the person looking at it has high perception and is skilled in medicine.
His attire is finished by a black pair of steel toe capped boots, scuffed and scarred these boots are but a relic of his past, but Reynolds has had them since his years in Rivet City, and its his one reminder of a home he doubts he'll ever return to.
All in all Ryan Bay Reynolds would appear to be someone that gets the job done, his appearance alone draws is likely to draw someones attention.
Personality: While many people see the world in black or white, good or wrong, Reynolds stays in a morale grey area, he’ll do nearly anything for caps, and if it’s truly awful will shift the blame to whoever hired him to keep his conscience clear, with the idealism that you don’t blame the gun when someone’s shot, you blame the person that fired it.
Reynolds is a pessimist, a realist and someone that usually prefers working alone, that is, unless he can somehow gain from working with othersn he always puts himself first and is never quick to trust, that said, to him trust matters little, as his loyalty can be bought by whoever holds the most caps. While not a particularly cruel or malicious man you’d be wrong to mistake him for a peaceful one, he’s lived a life of danger and odd jobs, and has done everything from protecting a caravan to robbing one, which has forced him to become rather "detached" from events some may find disgusting, brutal or cruel, yet he gains no joy from them.
In-game RP example: (Include dialog)
*With a sigh Reynolds peaks round the corner, to see where his target had gone*
*The man fires two quick shots at Reynolds exposed flesh with his 9mm pistol*
*Reynolds ducks behind cover as the two bullets whiz closely past him*
*He shouts from cover* “Boy, we can do this the easy way….or the hard way”
*The man shouts back and fires another bullet at the wall Reynolds hides behind*”F*** you, I aint goin’ back ta no slavers, ill die before I do”
*Reynolds shouts to the man as he grabs the stun grenade from his side* “So the hard way?”
*The man reloads his pistol, and an audible click could be heard* “Yup”
*Reynolds pulls the pin and tosses it round the corner leaving his hand momentarily exposed*
*The man doesn’t see the grenade until it’s too late and it explodes with great light and a loud bang, blinding and disorientating him*
“Agh, my eyes!, you b*****d my eyes!”
*Reynolds charges around the corner and tears an old pipe from the rusted wall as he goes*
*The man shoots 4 bullets randomly around the area unsure of where he’s coming from but hearing the footsteps faintly as his hearing comes back slowly*
*Reynolds swings the pipe down at the man’s head and at the same time is shot in the shin and groans in pain as it tears through his shin guard*
*The man was briefly bent over in disorientation so the pipe thuds into the back of his head, opening a bloody wound and knocking him unconscious*
*Reynolds drops the pipe and mutters* “Always the hard way” *He then kneels down groaning with pain at his shin injury, and after pulling out his pre-war handcuffs attempts to cuff the man*
Background: (Detailed and in-depth, 2 paragraphs)
Born in Rivet City on the year of 2248 Ryan had a fairly average start to life, his mother was a research assistant to the now 50 year old Dr Madison Li and was breaking new ground in the growth of radiation free, food although the process was not perfect and his father was a member of Rivet city security,Ryan looked up to his father and began to follow his footsteps, finding that although he wasn’t stupid, he was of more use to the city with a gun than walking round in circles with a pen and clipboard, at least, that’s what he thought scientists like his mother did at work.
Ryan recieved a basic education, and in his spare time often enjoyed to explore Rivet City with the other children and despite warnings from his father and mother alike, on his 17th birthday Ryan joined Rivet City Security like his father he was happy there and led a pretty boring and carefree life, when he wasn’t worrying about the super mutant raids, raiders, or other threats taking potshots at him and the other exposed guards, but unfortanently for him, you couldnt always "dodge the bullet", and he was rushed to the infirmary with a super mutants bullet in his right thigh.
While bedridden Bay began to hunger escape from the steel ship, he wanted adventure, and wondered about what he might find out in the wild wasteland, and at the age of 22 left Rivet City armed with all the caps he'd saved and his trusty magnum, and he never went back.
After 4 years taking odd jobs and trying to make a name for himself in the waste’s Ryan had become a hardened individual, having being shot at on a daily basis, he’d lost friends and lovers, he’d been double crossed and cheated, and had been shot at on a near daily basis, eventually he’d learned to cope with loss, he knew to keep moving on, never to truly settle, he learnt to put himself first. Being a hero didn’t pay and that he should always work for the caps as petty loyalties and idea’s grew, changed, mutated and died, nothing could stop that so he might as well make some money of the poor sods before he went somewhere else.
He travelled the land, ran with raiders for while, he took jet, made mistakes, got shot and moved on, he followed this pattern for the next two years and after running with the crimson caravan, moved to New Vegas, and worked for the followers of the apocalypse at the Old Mormon Fort as a security guard, it was rather uneventful despite breaking his magnum while pot shotting at Gecko's. Time passed and Ryan got bored of the place, he didn’t care much for the people, the goals or the place itself, so he blew his caps in Gomorrah and began wandering to San Francisco with a band of others(for safety) having heard rumors of powerful groups heading there,and powerful people always need someone to do their dirty work, so that was all he needed, and off went Bay, following the trail of blood and caps…..as always. *Powers up vault boy 3000*
"You are the Warlord now. You have been with me throughout my reign, now make me proud."~Warlord Karashuk'nil Rayzee
"Those are brave men," he told Ser Balon in admiration. "Let's go kill them." -Tyrion Lannister
"I will hurt you for this. A day will come when your joy will turn to ashes and you will know the debt is paid."-Tyrion Lannister
"Is there singing in the Void? Dancing? Surely the Dread Lord will at least allow poor Cicero to caper..."-Cicero
Time I can dedicate: In the coming 2 weeks almost everyday for 5-8 hours. But once school starts around 1-2 hours weekdays and 5-9 hours on weekends.
Why us? While looking through some of the other servers for Fallout RP I have come to the decision that this one is the most organized, and the most into Role-Playing... which is why I'm here.
Define Role-Playing in your own words: When you act, and think as a person, or thing in a certain character according to the genre of which you are acting after.
Meta-gaming: Using things you learned ooc and put it in use in a IC action or occurrence.
Power-gaming: Doing things that your character wouldn't be able to do without interaction of the other character or thing your are interacting with.
Appearance: 6'5, 215 ibs, Handlebar Mustache, Rough face, multiple scars surrounding eyes and mouth. Very broad shoulders, very in shape, strong and intimidating look. Usually wears casual or heavy armor.
Personality: Very Sarcastic, tends to get very attached to companions, followers, and other people that he spends time around, and gets to know.
Background:
Dennis was born in a small town called Ash-fall outside of Salt-Lake City, this was a very caring, and quiet town allowing Dennis to be raised peacefully and correctly, much like a pre-war child would have been raised... without the comforts of technology of course. With Dennis growing up in a caring family with his parents herding Brahmin for the local food supply, Dennis starting talking and hanging out with the local town merchant, Randall. Randall gave Dennis all of these crazy and amazing stories of treasure, and adventure in the Sand Francisco bay area from when Randall used to be a Courier, and explorer for the NCR. He told Dennis about how well the NCR treated soldiers and their associates in the Bay area, and maybe even convincing Dennis to join up wit them if he ever makes it out that way. But since a the young, but eager Dennis was only 9 at that time, he made alot of promises to the people he cared about...
10 years later...
His mother Marie was slowly dying of Radiation poising when one of the brahmin she herded got attacked by a Glowing ghoul that infected the brahmin with dangerous amounts of radiation, but sadly Marie did not find the brahmin until the ghouls have left. Marie, not wanting the meat to go to waste she sold 3/4 of the meat to Randall and the rest she ate... But Randall sold all of the meat to the local townsfolk, and the Town's population was 17, but after the meat poisoning... there was only 5 left. With 78% of the townsfolk gone, Dennis, Dennis's father Dmitri, and Randall abandon the town of Ash-fall and move westward, to Randall's "promised lands' in a pre-war state called "California". On the trip to California, around New Vegas, the now old Randall peacefully died while sleeping on the trail... But he left behind a note for Dennis, the note told him to meet up with the NCR in San Francisco and live a good life serving a noble cause. Dennis made a promise to himself to enlist with the San Francisco chapter of the NCR's Army.
5 years later...
With major setbacks and several near death experiences, along with losing his father to raiders, Dennis finally came across a sign that said "Welcome to the Grand city of San Francisco". After traversing hundreds of miles of extremely hostile territory, and nearly dying while crossing the wastes that are plagued with bandits... he finally made it to the Bay. Now all that he had to do was find a safe place to stay, and rest temporarily until he located the NCR and Enlisted.
I have redone my Background story and character, everything lines up correctly and I hope you'll think so too! Thanks!
IGN: JAWS101
Name: Alec ( I'd prefer not to say my full name )
Age: 17
Time I can dedicate: In the coming 2 weeks almost everyday for 5-8 hours. But once school starts around 1-2 hours weekdays and 5-9 hours on weekends.
Why us? While looking through some of the other servers for Fallout RP I have come to the decision that this one is the most organized, and the most into Role-Playing... which is why I'm here.
Define Role-Playing in your own words: When you act, and think as a person, or thing in a certain character according to the genre of which you are acting after.
Meta-gaming: Using things you learned ooc and put it in use in a IC action or occurrence.
Power-gaming: Doing things that your character wouldn't be able to do without interaction of the other character or thing your are interacting with.
Did I join your website? Yes. I'm Krzbs.
IC:
Name: Dennis Grims (Mr.Grims)
Nickname: NightStalker
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Appearance: 6'5, 215 ibs, Handlebar Mustache, Rough face, multiple scars surrounding eyes and mouth. Very broad shoulders, very in shape, strong and intimidating look. Usually wears casual or heavy armor.
Personality: Very Sarcastic, tends to get very attached to companions, followers, and other people that he spends time around, and gets to know.
Background:
Dennis was born in a small town called Ash-fall outside of Salt-Lake City, this was a very caring, and quiet town allowing Dennis to be raised peacefully and correctly, much like a pre-war child would have been raised... without the comforts of technology of course. With Dennis growing up in a caring family with his parents herding Brahmin for the local food supply, Dennis starting talking and hanging out with the local town merchant, Randall. Randall gave Dennis all of these crazy and amazing stories of treasure, and adventure in the Sand Francisco bay area from when Randall used to be a Courier, and explorer for the NCR. He told Dennis about how well the NCR treated soldiers and their associates in the Bay area, and maybe even convincing Dennis to join up wit them if he ever makes it out that way. But since a the young, but eager Dennis was only 9 at that time, he made alot of promises to the people he cared about...
10 years later...
His mother Marie was slowly dying of Radiation poising when one of the brahmin she herded got attacked by a Glowing ghoul that infected the brahmin with dangerous amounts of radiation, but sadly Marie did not find the brahmin until the ghouls have left. Marie, not wanting the meat to go to waste she sold 3/4 of the meat to Randall and the rest she ate... But Randall sold all of the meat to the local townsfolk, and the Town's population was 17, but after the meat poisoning... there was only 5 left. With 78% of the townsfolk gone, Dennis, Dennis's father Dmitri, and Randall abandon the town of Ash-fall and move westward, to Randall's "promised lands' in a pre-war state called "California". On the trip to California, around New Vegas, the now old Randall peacefully died while sleeping on the trail... But he left behind a note for Dennis, the note told him to meet up with the NCR in San Francisco and live a good life serving a noble cause. Dennis made a promise to himself to enlist with the San Francisco chapter of the NCR's Army.
5 years later...
With major setbacks and several near death experiences, along with losing his father to raiders, Dennis finally came across a sign that said "Welcome to the Grand city of San Francisco". After traversing hundreds of miles of extremely hostile territory, and nearly dying while crossing the wastes that are plagued with bandits... he finally made it to the Bay. Now all that he had to do was find a safe place to stay, and rest temporarily until he located the NCR and Enlisted.
I have redone my Background story and character, everything lines up correctly and I hope you'll think so too! Thanks!
OOC
IGN:
Fluffyskull
Age:
16
Time you can dedicate:
3-5 hours a day.
Why us?:
I have been in your Akavir server and when announced a Fallout server, I knew I had to join.
Define Role-Playing in your words:
To engage others in a fictional world whilst becoming a character of your own.
Define Meta-gaming in your words:
Using OOC information in roleplay.
Define Power-gaming in your words:
When people use forceful actions without letting others react to the situation.
Did you join our website?
Yes
IC
Name:
Rhett Walton
Age:
26
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
Rhett is a tall fit man with brown short hair, wearing an old worn out duster. His eyes are dark brown, filled with curiosity. He wears a belt along with a revolver strapped to his waste, a gift from his friend. (Won't start out with it in the server)
Personality:
Rhett is a man with a bright personality; kind to his friends and allies, is able to keep a positive mood when everyone is down, and very much enjoys being with animals. However at times may act immoral to people he does not know as a defence mechanism he learned from his experience. He is also well trained with the sniper rifle, for his good friend will tell him how to use firearms from a young age.
In-game RP example: (Include dialog)
Rhett is walking down an old worn-out road as a caravan merchant comes by.
Merchant: "Hey there stranger! Would you like to buy anything at a fine day like this?"
Rhett: "A couple of stimpacks and ammo would do just fine."
Merchant: "Here you go stranger! Say, where are you off to?"
Rhett: "Why do you care?"
Merchant: "Well these roads are particularly dangerous going alone. Fire geckos lurk around here..."
As soon as the merchant spoke of this, a family of fire geckos quickly advanced towards Rhett and the merchant. Lured from the smell of food from the caravan, the ravenous pack were not going to stop.
Merchant: "Oh, Christ.....We're both gonna' die here stranger."
Rhett: "Quick, pass me some ammo for my revolver; .45-70 Govt. rounds!"
Merchant: "Of course! Here you go!"
Rhett quickly pulled out a revolver from his waste. He then reloaded his gun as the geckos closed-in, and with a quick draw, he shot a fire gecko straight in the face. The poor thing's head exploded, flying back with great force.
Merchant: "Nice shot gun slinger! Two more to go!"
Rhett focused another gecko as it jumped for the merchant. He crippled it, shooting it's hind leg off, sending him to the ground. He aimed for the last, however, scurried away in a hurry. He watched as the creature run away and felt sympathetic, a feeling of sorrow. However, this feeling was burried away as a new feeling of enjoyment took over with the merchant thanking him.
Merchant: "I gotta' tell you, you're a great shot stranger!"
Rhett: "Thanks. If you're still wondering, i'm actually off to SanFrancisco, if you could give me any advice that would be kind."
Merchant: "Not much is known down there.... The only thing I could tell ya' is to be careful. They say strange creatures linger around in the bay area."
Background: (Detailed and in-depth, 2 paragraphs)
Rhett's story begins when he a young kid of the age of 5. He had a little house at Bakersfield, California where he lived with his parents. You can tell that Rhett was not living in a good condition from looking at his house; the windows were all broken, due to his father's drunk behavior, the walls had cracks and holes, and the roof had a big hole in it, letting all the rain fall inside his dusty home. Money became scarce as the Walton family started losing caps, for Rhett's father would spend it all on gambling or alcohol. By the next year, Rhett was sold to a slave market, being thrown out and forgotten by his parents.
He was then sent to Lake Tahoe, walking through most of the way, leading a cart where the owner would sit. He was thirsty and his feet were worn out. Soon, he collapsed onto the dry debris filled ground. The slave owner got off and pulled out his whip from his pocket. Rhett was already half unconscious as the owner walked towards him with rage. Rhett felt the sting of the whip against him, however, could not get up. After he felt as if death was close, he heard a loud bang, the sound of an anti-material rifle. Right after, he heard screams from the other slaves, and finally, a loud thud. When he looked besides him, he saw the dead face of the slave owner. He started into his soulless eyes as he heard foot steps walking towards him. "You hurt boy?" Asked the voice. Still looking at the dead body, he got up, and spat at it. He looked at the man behind him, and from that moment, the man known as Karl became his new father figure.
Karl was a big fit man of the age of 50. He was the sniper in the NCR when he was 30, however, chose to leave after being raided three times at his small camp. He wasn't a coward, he just didn't like the idea of holding up at a camp, waiting for nothing to occur. He loved to explore, and so thats what he did. Wearing a hat and a duster, he went off. He came from Sacramento, and it was the smallest of luck that he saw a young boy being whipped on his way to SanFrancisco. He wanted to explore the borders of California before going there, taking a long route towards the Bay area. Karl was a lonely man who looked for company. He lost his pregnant wife when his house was burned down by raiders, and from there on, kept a photo of him and his wife in his pocket, safe in a little tim box. Maybe thats the reason why he saved Rhett and decided to keep him around. Not much is known of this in particular.
Within weeks Karl would teach the young boy how to defend himself from enemies such as the previous ones and other creatures that he have never heard of. Rhett on the other hand, was a great learner, remembering the names of creatures and enemies he should avoid. On some days Karl would ask, "You remember what the most fierce creatures called?" Rhett would know this answer very quickly, earning a cap for every question he gets right. Specialising in the sniper rifles, Karl taught Rhett how to use one correctly. This training took Rhett a few days to become confident with the weapon, but after a week, the two were off to scavenge hunts and explorations in a small city nearby. Rhett would take position at a high elevation, picking off Raiders as Karl would go in, collecting food, medicine, and ammo to keep him and Rhett surviving.
Years went by and by the time Karl deceased from this world, Rhett will be 20 years old and by this time, Karl's duster fit perfectly on Rhett. He dug a grave for Karl, placing his rifle besides him and his tim box in his arms. He said goodbye to his dead friend, or 'father', and ventured off to SanFrancisco, where he would explore for his friend who chased this dream for a very long time. He heard rumors that the place was dangerous, but Rhett was willing to take the chance.
Powers up vault boy 3000
And sorry if i switch from third person to first mid background, i just got into it is all...
OOC~~~
IGN:Chillydown
Age:17
Time you can dedicate:As an insomniac 90% of my game time will be in the early AMs so a couple hours a day
Why us?:A builder is a friend, the stories he has told me of your skyrim RP server got me close to joining it. Now that you have BNW there's no doubt i want to be apart of this. I've done very little RPing but I'm not ignorant to the rules. I have tons of patience and will happily make a new character if mine happens to die (very likely)
All in all i think this would be an interesting way to spend my time.
Define Role-Playing in your words: Assuming the perception, mindset, physical, and emotional traits of a ficticious character
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Admittedly i just learned about this term, but notice its crucial to RPing- When the character knows a fact(that the player does) he should not, like knowing something that was posted on the forums when there would be no way of him getting this information, or seeing names through walls.
Define Power-gaming in your words:When you attempt an unrealistic (to the realm you are playing) action, such as picking an expert lock, instead of attempting to pick it. Or killing a behemoth with a box of cram. I fully understand this concept when it comes to battle, and interaction with other players
Did you join our website? indeed
IC~~~
Name:Edith Mushnick
Nickname:Marcy
Age:32
Gender:Femme Fatale♥
Appearance:Shaved head since she left her home, skinny, but not petite. Looks alot older than she actually is, possibly because of her oldworld European blood (her family has lived in America since the first civil war, but they came in from Italy)
Never removes her hood, making it even harder to tell her age.
Personality:An emotionally crippled paranoid. Enjoys eavesdropping, loves to listen, hesitant to speak. Constantly worries about being judged, so attempts to make as little impact as possible. And yet she is (like us all) Quick to judge, but not outspokenly so- Example- Is kind to every one she meets (out of caution) but only those she deems truly worthy does she speak more than a sentence to. At this point in her life currently mourning one of her greatest possessions, her cat Fiddle ( i don't need to tell you the rarity of a domesticated animals in this world) So her mood darkens quicker than usual.
Unusually prone to violence, not out of necessity but out of nature. Inwardly enjoys ending lives, but only kills if she wont be looked down on for it.
Also- Uses the Micro-nap schedule for sleep, so shes never caught off guard.(google it if you dont know)
In-game RP example:
Walking along a well traveled route alone with her cat near sunrise,
*Marcy notices a picture perfect record player that's softly humming a song she knew all too well- I don't want to set the world on fire-The Ink Spots
*Marcy Checks the perimeter, assumes shes alone and walks up to it.
Noticing a piece of paper taped to it "where the hell did someone get tape?"
She walks to pick it up but only gets a few feet before she reads it "BIG MISTAKE"
The sound of a mine interests her cat and as she pounces it explodes.
Marcy attempts to roll out of the blast but is hit by shrapnel, the cries of a raider and his partner come from farther down the road
"CRAPCRAPCRAP, not like this, not like this!" Laying on her stomach now she proceeds to take aim at the one with less armor.
Fiend 1-catches it in the shoulder and falls
Quickly she aims down this time aiming for the crippled ones head, as both fiends draw pistols ("Thank god they aren't wielding auto's" she thinks)
The bullet misses as one of theirs hit her leg, Biting her lip in pain she holds her breath and takes another shot,This time hitting her target, fiend 1's head. BAM! ("no shots but head shots eh?")
Fiend one dies from a minor headache =-p
fiend 2, assumed the leader of this poorly thought out partner ship is reloading walking closer when his gun jams
Fiend 2- "Damn cheap gun vendors" Drawing his machete he runs towards Marcy who is about 7 yards away,
Marcy takes aim noticing its her last bullet in the snipers clip.
Marcy-...*screams* "NOT TO SOUND CLICHE, BUT THIS ONE IS FOR FIDDLE" ("Even at deaths door i worry about what this scum thinks of me? i need help")
Her last bullet fires...Enters the fiends unfortunately armored helmet through the eyehole, but doesn't make it through the back of the helmet.
Limping over she takes his machete and continues to dismember his body for several minutes before breaking down in tears.
After digging the bullet out of her leg she covers it in a paste the nameless woman showed her. ("seriously, she never told me her name, she said to refer to her as the nameless woman, maybe my mind isnt so bad off after all")
Feeling her gait has regained some power she removes the fiends helmet only to see its a girl ("ahhh, not a partnership, a relationship. Cute. for a murderer")
The bullet falls out. she picks it up and considers it luck from this day forth.
Still carrying it with her, she'll tell no one that she named this inanimate object "Fiddles Love"
Background: "Dad says our blood is one of the purest in the country!"
Born of innocence, raised in blood, Edith never felt the lows of human emotion.
Not that she didn't see death every day, It just never bothered her.
Birthed in a homemade rowboat because her parents couldn't reach shore in time, Her unhealthy fascination with water was life long. She often would laugh and say the best times of her life were spent in a pool of her own blood. The blissful, nonchalant tone her voice carried baffled even her parents. For how could one be so calm, when almost like clockwork men would attempt to break in to their small 1 room lakeside home in Oregon, only to die at the hands of her hawkeyed father. He'd set up a 8 foot steel gate around the perimeter, but always left the gateway open with a sign in front that read "This way to hell!" A silent yellow light alarm would blink when anyone came within 10 feet of this sign, alerting her father to draw his "second daughter". A 1987 McMillan M89 sniper rifle to which his family had passed down since even before the bombs dropped. "No shots but head shots"...Her mind was littered with his quips(Not a day passes where she doesn't hear his voice in her head, but we'll get to that). He would always wait till sunrise to check and loot the bodies because he said "that's when the real crazies are sleeping off their jet binges" Though dead bodies littered the ground, it never stopped the drug induced confidence of raiders. Her parents expected, even planned for their child's violent tendencies, but to their surprise, they never showed. Accepting hers, and the fates of those around her silently, she would constantly be asked-
"doesn't any of this bother you?" to which she would reply "Should it? This is how things ARE"
Most of her time was spent in the second floor of her basement, of which had 6 floors all with various uses, the 2nd being where they slept, jokingly called the bedroom.
A great wide room covered every 6 feet with a cot. Her father said this house had once been a small military fort for a rebellion in the late 2000's but was inhabited by drug addicts and whores shortly before the great war. dad says it wasn't too hard for his great grandparents to kill that many burnouts with his old war buddies. Since then our family lived and died here. Until me.Unbeknownst to us Raiders recently had set up camp a few miles outside out house, knowing full well the death that awaited any that passed the threshold. They tracked my father movements and saw his early morning routines as an opening. Not even his eyes saw the barrel of the missile launcher jutting out of the false rock the raiders had set up the week before. The gate and the sign were destroyed with another shot, and our front door with another After my mom\ heard (or felt, more like it) the blast of the rockets, she told me to run to the 6th floor saferoom, but before we could reach the elevator shaft we heard the raiders come down the utility stairs, my mother, fearful of our fates told me to go hide, being 15 all i could think of was under a bed. Thinking back all i can do is laugh at the movie cliche ive seen so many times. a child hidden under a bed that can do nothing but listen. Listen to what? I don't need to say. Moving on, after the rooms had been searched they assumed all was clear, the only reason i wasn't found was because the leader had laid claim to the house immediately and was too lazy to check all of the 64 beds in the room. In the next 14 hours, i could only sit there as they relived the death of my parents, and the sound of satisfaction in their voices was enough to make a girl cry. when the man kicked his friends out and finally chose a bed to black out on, i slit his throat like a chord, took his gun and shot his diseased **** off. Knowing this wasn't the end, i snuck through the rest of the house only to find him alone here. Selfish *****, 64 beds and he didn't give up one.
Grabbing supplies i headed upstairs, but carefully- Surely this man couldn't be stupid enough to stay here alone? If ignorance is bliss, then i just freaking killed king george, because not once bandit was anywhere near my house. he had even set up new signs declaring the land Rapist Utopia. Even I had to laugh at that.
Walking by the remains of my father i pressed on, only after taking his rifle from what used to be his hand did i start to tear. Mom always talked about how orderly it was in California, and how a new sort of justice system had been set up called the NCR. Determined to join them i traveled south. Shaved head, and constantly hooded i blended in to any caravan i could find, more than once raiders had attacked. More than once i surprised by fellow travelers with my prone style shooting of my fathers rifle. in all the parties ive accompanied never has more than 2 people died on my watch. Reaching Cali, i was told one of the most profitable towns i could be apart of was San fran. Eagerly i pushed on. hoping to live out my life under the watch of true lawbringers. I found out later, though, that the man i had spoken to was a raider, and was implying that it was a nice place to kill and steal. Had i known that... well forget it, anyways- I was traveling with a large caravan, 20 miles outside of my dream city when my throat closed up. Thinking i had been drugged, I start waving my gun around attempting to scream "WHO DID IT, ILL HAVE YOU KNOW I LINED THE INSIDE OF MY ***** WITH BARBED WIRE, RAPE ME IF YOU FREAKING DARE YOU PIGS"
Though all that came out was spit and loud coughing sounds. 3 guns pointed at my head, i blacked out. I awoke in a small handmade shack covered in plants. Vines on the walls,Some even growing out of the floor. Greenery literally everywhere. I hope for safety and fell back into the darkness.
this time what awoke me was the screeching of a man whos lungs were filling with blood, i sat up expecting danger, only to find a woman tending to a cat giving birth.
"9000 caps, they said. PER CAT! Never thought my little friends would make me rich. but ill never sell them." This insane woman explained to me how when she saw the spots on the back of my throat, she knew what it was. everyone else in the caravan was ready to kill me and leave my body for the raiders, but she stopped them, and said i was suffering from a rare lung condition, that back in the prewar days they would vaccinate you for. All it took was a homemade version of this remedy, and i was good as new. I learned from her that i had reached my home and was free to leave at my own leisure(although she hinted at wanting my company) I ended up spending 3 years with this woman, learning her way with plants, mainly the treatment for radiation as its alot worse here than it is in Oregon. Reading her prewar books, and actually having fun for once in more than a few years. I grew attached to a cat of pure black, her brothers and sisters all had matching names, skittles was multicolored, piddles loved to mark her territory, and my buddy fiddles was a curious little scamp. Now that i have a companion, i travel around the city, going wherever a hired gun is needed, never settling down anywhere(that isnt a bar)
Now fiddle is 8 and knows the dangers of this place ("never thought id see a cat kill a scorpion..") and we spend every minute together. When i scout out my surroundings, i nolonger do it for my safety, I do it for hers.
~~~~~
I'm told that the rape and the language may be a little over the top, and i may need lower it a bit. I will happily do so.
But know that my Character doesnt run around cursing, and that the language in there is used in stressful times when i honestly think it would be used. And although i hear you dont tolerate rape, i consider it crucial to my story, as that is a main fear as a woman. I feel it gives her more personality. That in mind- I will change anything you want if you feel its too needlessly vulgar.
ALSO! If accepted id really like to jump right in and practice my RP, If your psychiatrist position is still open for the vault Id really LOVE to be that. Since ive been wanting to be a criminal psychologist since i was 13, Id really enjoy interacting with players like this.
P.S. Sorry for the bad spacing at some parts, it went all weird on me when i posted it
I don't about the whitelisters but I'd accept you
OOC:
IGN:mdSketch
Age:15
Time you can dedicate: 2 on weekdays and varies but about 3 hours on weekends
Why us?: Looks like the most decent Rp server on here.
Define Role-Playing in your words: Using a made up character in a made up world
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Using information that your character wouldn't know
Define Power-gaming in your words: thinking your character can do anything and forcing actions on
players. For instance, saying that a player did someone instead of attempt to do it.
Did you join our website? Yes.
IC:
Name: Mayson Davis
Nickname: None
Age: 15
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Generic white wastelander skin with an outfit constructed from various Nuka Cola machines and parts. Metallic and rusty, it makes for a well armored outfit. He has dark blue eyes with short brown hair covered by a Nuka Cola cap. He is rather short for his age (even if you can't change that in Minecraft.)
Personality: Quiet, smart and friendly from his constant relationship from his father. Not good with socializing with authority figures due to lack of experience with other people. He doesn't like people he hasn't met quite yet. For example if he knew his cousin from three years old, then he would not have a problem being with him. On the other hand, if he was given a person to work with out of the blue then he would have a small problem. In a word, Mayson is "shy."
In-game RP example: Mayson takes his early walk, enjoying every little detail. He notices an animal he has never seen in person before, a dog with an exposed brain in a glass case attached to wires. It growled and Mayson backed away. Then another person showed up handling a wad of wire.
"What are you doing with my dog, pal." He said.
Mayson preferred to not get in any confrontation. He hoped he would have some chance of calming him down. "Well... I was just observing your craft of the Cyborg." Mayson replied sheepishly. "and on your dog even. That takes some skill."
"Yeah I guess, Sharp's brain pattern is a bit more difficult than your average human," the stranger said. "I like you, man"
"Hey, I've got some implants myself. Would you like to compare notes?" Mayson asked. The stranger smiled and waved Mayson inside. In the house there were numerous workstations for things like rifle scopes to food purifiers. This man definitely doesn't work on just robots.
"Nice setup" Mayson complemented from one side of the room.
"Eh, it's a but messy. I don't mind if you look around." the man said with an odd smile. Sharp was trotting about with Mayson.
Mayson went into the basement after he heard a strange noise. He saw a woman tied on to a board with a part of her head still open. Sharp went back up the stairs. "What happened to you?!" Mayson exclaimed. The woman was just mumbling to herself. Then she looked over Mayson's shoulder with wide eyes. Mayson followed her gaze to the man. He had a gun in his hands and a dog at his side.
"I see you have found my mother" He said with a deadly stare in Mayson eyes.
"Jesus man, this is your mother?" Mayson yelled. He stopped talking, realizing he is at the business end of a Hunting Rifle.
"When I say you could look around, I meant that by a 'don't go past the employees only sign' Mayson" He said pointing at the door. "She was dying."
"That's no excuse to cut her open"
"I was fixing her" The man raised his voice. " I thought... I thought I knew what I was doing. It worked on Sharp, so I thought-"
"look it's fine. What's wrong with her?" Mayson calmly asked. By this time the man had his gun pointed toward the ground.
"It's none of your business. I just need to think!" He raised his voice again. "I need something. It's in some building, but there are ghouls."
"Um... I could do it." Mayson offered. He couldn't bear to have another person lose their mother. The man told Mayson about the building and what he needed. Mayson was rather young, so he didn't know how he could pull this off. They were only ghouls so he could use stealth. Mayson began for the building...
Background:
Mayson Davis was part of a seemingly nice family that were all born in Oakland near San Francisco. that of four actually. Mayson, his two parents and his sister who met an untimely end with a group of slavers. Mayson really didn't think much of his sister, always trying to out-do her. From finishing a meal faster to finishing home-school earlier, Mayson was always one step ahead. He barely remembered her name, something with an "A?" Furious with his daughter's death, the father started to test on his son Mayson. He began with simple implants that he stole when he was young. Giving him a bit of an edge in the father's teachings, the father decided to continue the testing. He exceeded these implants on Mayson. Making him a bit smarter every week or so. His father kept him inside most of the day to study. Mayson had had enough.
Two years after countless testing, he ran off in search for a purpose. He figured his new found know-how can get him a job and influence people to help him. He began to find an easy job at a Nuka Cola Vendor. This required skill in scavenging than actual business. He was sent to various stores and abandoned shacks to collect. Every twenty bottles of Nuka he got, he could keep two and and caps aw well. When he earned enough caps he went to find a proper education. There were almost no makeshift schools around the San Fran area. Then a man in a Vault-Tec suit appeared. He took Mayson under his wing and he learned from the Vault-Tec man. Surprised by the man's origins, Mayson decided to learn the man's story.
Turns out the Vault man was an Overseer of a certain vault. For some reason the man's jumpsuit's number was removed. Mayson didn't have the stones to pry into that one. He decided to investigate himself. Mayson asked his next questions carefully. "So when did you leave your Vault?" or "Did you have a family?" He pieced the evidence together in his spare time and realized this Vault-Tec man was Overseer Hayne. Of course he didn't want to reveal his name. He released modified FEV into his vault, thinking he could make some sort of enforced evolutionary virus (Mayson figured that is what FEV meant.) The virus modified a gene to make the vault dwellers see better. It was harmless until it mutated into a form of cancer that spread fast. Chemo wasn't available so they were dead within a week. The vault was infested with something worse than any radiation can do.Shocked with this discovery, Mayson decided it was time to run away again. For once, he looked back on to not his father's teachings, but his sincere advice: "Son, if you are ever in a jam, go to San Francisco. Mayson stuck to the sparse roads and outsmart the bandits, thieves, and slavers...
*POWERS UP VAULT-BOY 3000*
Thanks, hoping to get it on my first try D:
These whitelisters are tough, it took me 5 times to get in on SoOF. But well worth it.
Tough is an understatement. :/
I'm cool with it. Its a filter for serious RP'ers i bet this set of servers rarely gets griefed
Im hoping i have all the needed elements, took me more than a few hours to finish.
How many attempts did it take you?
Hello I am Gdp203, before I let you in I have a few problems.
-RP definition is blank, please fill that out.
-Appearance is kinda short for my liking. Try describing as much as you can such as why he dresses a certain way and what not.
-Personality can also us more wording, try getting to the nitty gritty of things.
-RP example is short and needs more expansion and build up. If it is going to be short make some action rather than two wastelanders meeting up.
-Your backstory has an odd thing I find abit odd. How can one screw just simply land on a generator causing a malfunction? Did they also hire the wrong guys or are they just not professional, or they are as dumb as a bag of hammers. Now, while I can say its a nice little way of telling us he is a dumby, I would like to also ask this, also, why would your friend attack an OFFICER WITH A GUN?!!?!?!?!?!? None of this really seems possible, and the vault dwellers wouldn't make it very long if you know what I mean.
Until the fixes are made, you are
I'm your worst daymare.
Power and Metagaming. I am going to need you to expand on these. They do not seem very acceptable. You may have the general idea, but I can not let it pass.
Appearance. I would like more detail on this. Is he tall? Short? What clothing is he wearing?
RP example. This could use some more detail. Add some more actions into it. Also, if he doesn't know what coconuts and bananas are, why would he mention them.
Backstory. I would like some more detail about his childhood. Exploring would most likely end with his death as he lacks any training in stealth and fighting, he would odds are stumble upon a mutant or raider some time. I would like more detail about him after his mother left. How did he survive after his mother left him? How did he get to San Francisco with no weapons? I would like a better reason to go to San Francisco then a piece of paper. The backstory needs to be expanded, it must be 2 paragraphs.
Until these are fixed you are....
To other applicants: Do not despair, your apps will be reviewed very soon!
Hello Chilly, I am Gdp203.
First off, good app but you have these problems.
-Try revising the lore, some things are abit contradicting.
-Read the rules, missed something
-Would also ask for some more expansion on appearance maybe, ya know.
Other than that it isn't really that bad.
I'm your worst daymare.
It seems that you either skipped my application or simply didn't read it yet and I'm being impatient, but I'm not sure it I should re-post or just wait. Just bringing that to your attention.
IGN: imageaudio
Age: 18
Time you can dedicate: various amounts
Why us?: I played on Akavir and also like Fallout.
Define Role-Playing in your words: Roleplaying is acting out a life as if you were a person or thing and doing things as they would.
Define Meta-gaming in your words:Meta Gaming is using OOC information to determine IC choices.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power Gaming is forcing actions upon others without giving them the opportunity to respond.
Did you join our website? Yes
IC:
Name: Bill Caliber
Nickname:
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Appearance:He is 5" 9' and has a light weight muscle build. His skin is that of a caucasian with a tan. His eyes are blue. He has black hair that looks like a greasers. He wears a vault suit and a greaser jacket over it. He dresses like this because he came from a vault and he found a box of greaser jackets which inspire him to create his own gang. However, he has not created any gang. He only hopes to create one. Just clarifying.
Personality: He is often skeptic at first and untrusting. He likes to keep to himself, unless he makes s a friend. He's a loyal companion and strives to survive. He believes living is the most important thing in life. He is sometimes quick to trust others in a vault suit, but untrusting of others. He talks like a mobster would and hopes to start his own gang one day. He is good at keeping is cool, but when he loses it, he loses it bad. He knows when to make decisions quick to survive or when he can take his time and think things out. He has a weakness for "eye candy" AKA girls. He likes to sweet talk.
*His pistol remains by his side in case of any trouble.*
*The strange traveler moves closer seeming to be carrying with him a wide variety of things ranging from pots and pans to electronic components and radroach meats. As he nears to speaking range he waves friendly towards Bill and replies with a* Hello! I am a traveling merchant. Are you interested in buying any goods?
*Bill looks at the man sadly realizing he has nothing to trade and replies* I am sorry sir, but I have nothing of value I couldn't do without myself. Where might the nearest settlement be?
*The man says nothing, but rather remains silent, as he digs through his bag*
*Bill watches the man carefully being distrusting of him*
The Vault was left without any engineers and their necessary power was now gone. Mass panic spread throughout the whole vault as it's residents began to grab any and everything important and useful they could get their hands on, but this was only the beginning of their problems. Bill returned to his family and they held up in his family's dwelling as chaos ran loose upon the vault. Family turned on family as a week passed and soon after two weeks passed and supplies ran low competing families began to steal from each other and tension rose even further. During the third week a strange new group of beings had entered their vault. The beings were all hulking and male. Their skin was green and they looked as if they slightly resembled humans in a strange sort of way. The new group of strange beings known largely as super mutants began scavenging what they could find of the vault. Their band consisted of 12 members, all carrying nail boards, while there was 8 families in the vault with an average of 4 per family. The families consisted of children, teenagers, adults, and elderly, but there were only 13 people you would consider adults not of old age. Every family hid silently in their room scared of the bizarre intruders. They all laid in wait until some of them began to beat down at a few families doors. Once again panic arose amongst the Vault dwellers. Many stayed in their homes, many fled or attempted to at least. Bill wanted to flee but his parents hesitated. They began to argue, but a super mutant began beating down their door and everyone's eyes averted to that direction. It was now or never. Bill charged through the door with an adrenaline rush hoping his parents would follow, while discharged his 10mm pistol at the super mutant. He put a good 7 bullet into the super mutants chest before it fell to the ground injured and continued to run toward the exit of the vault. A few members of the vault followed behind until they arrived at the exit. He turned around only to notice his parents were not with him, as the vault door opened with a hiss. His friend grabbed him and yanked him out of the vault into the wilds in a rush to get away from the super mutants. It was a horrid day because after everything only 5 survivors from the vault were left. They began to wander throughout the waste and headed up north. As they journeyed for a good 2 years surviving only 3 remained and when they came close to San Franscisco the 3 split. Bill decided he would head on to see what San Franscisco might hold for him.
Powers up vault boy 3000
I didn't get on SoOf... Never even heard of it untill after I joined Akavir, 3 Attempts to make Jod, my first char on Akavir, and here so far its like... 4... 5??? Dunno, still attempting.
IGN: knight_of_fire98
Age:15
Time you can dedicate:5-6 hours a day.
Why us?: I’ve been role-playing on Akavir since the opening and have really enjoyed the experience and I really enjoy the fallout universe and all it has to offer so naturally I’ve chosen you guys again!
Define Role-Playing in your words: Role-playing is when you take on the guise of a character and act and speak as if you are the character you're portraying.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Using OOC information IC.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Forcing an action upon someone eg *Shoots the raider in the head* when it should be *Attempts to shoot the raider in the head*, powergaming is also doing things your character couldnt do, or being overpowered in a god like ways.
Did you join our website?: Jes
IC:
Name: Ryan “Bay” Reynolds
Nickname: Bay
Age:31
Gender: Male
Appearance:Reynolds is a white caucasian and he stands at the height of 5,10 which is just above average, he suffers from a genetic condition that causes him to have one green(right) and one amber(left) eye, a long and jagged scar running over his right eyebrow to just below his bottom eyelid, his hair is rough, short, black and slightly graying, he’s usually seen in his dark denim jacket that rests well over his muscled, lean, badly scarred body, with a bandolier of .357 magnum rounds running across his chest, his trousers were once expensive looking, but have been patched countless times, his belt holds his broken magnum that has no holster, a pair of cuffs, and a small knife rests in a hidden sheath on his left leg, causing a slight bulge that may be noticed by perceptive people.
He's a gruff looking man with a closely shaved 9 o'clock shadow, occationally small cuts may litter his lower face from screw ups with his knife while shaving but non deep enough to scar, his teeth are stained yellow, yet in good condition despite the lack of dental care in the wastes, his left ear is missing nearly half of its outer flesh, a wound that was caused by the shrapnel from a grenade.
On his left hand a scar could be seen, although trying to tell whether it was caused by someone stabbing a knife through it, or a nasty accident is near impossible unless the person looking at it has high perception and is skilled in medicine.
His attire is finished by a black pair of steel toe capped boots, scuffed and scarred these boots are but a relic of his past, but Reynolds has had them since his years in Rivet City, and its his one reminder of a home he doubts he'll ever return to.
All in all Ryan Bay Reynolds would appear to be someone that gets the job done, his appearance alone draws is likely to draw someones attention.
Personality: While many people see the world in black or white, good or wrong, Reynolds stays in a morale grey area, he’ll do nearly anything for caps, and if it’s truly awful will shift the blame to whoever hired him to keep his conscience clear, with the idealism that you don’t blame the gun when someone’s shot, you blame the person that fired it.
Reynolds is a pessimist, a realist and someone that usually prefers working alone, that is, unless he can somehow gain from working with othersn he always puts himself first and is never quick to trust, that said, to him trust matters little, as his loyalty can be bought by whoever holds the most caps. While not a particularly cruel or malicious man you’d be wrong to mistake him for a peaceful one, he’s lived a life of danger and odd jobs, and has done everything from protecting a caravan to robbing one, which has forced him to become rather "detached" from events some may find disgusting, brutal or cruel, yet he gains no joy from them.
In-game RP example: (Include dialog)
*With a sigh Reynolds peaks round the corner, to see where his target had gone*
*The man fires two quick shots at Reynolds exposed flesh with his 9mm pistol*
*Reynolds ducks behind cover as the two bullets whiz closely past him*
*He shouts from cover* “Boy, we can do this the easy way….or the hard way”
*The man shouts back and fires another bullet at the wall Reynolds hides behind*”F*** you, I aint goin’ back ta no slavers, ill die before I do”
*Reynolds shouts to the man as he grabs the stun grenade from his side* “So the hard way?”
*The man reloads his pistol, and an audible click could be heard* “Yup”
*Reynolds pulls the pin and tosses it round the corner leaving his hand momentarily exposed*
*The man doesn’t see the grenade until it’s too late and it explodes with great light and a loud bang, blinding and disorientating him*
“Agh, my eyes!, you b*****d my eyes!”
*Reynolds charges around the corner and tears an old pipe from the rusted wall as he goes*
*The man shoots 4 bullets randomly around the area unsure of where he’s coming from but hearing the footsteps faintly as his hearing comes back slowly*
*Reynolds swings the pipe down at the man’s head and at the same time is shot in the shin and groans in pain as it tears through his shin guard*
*The man was briefly bent over in disorientation so the pipe thuds into the back of his head, opening a bloody wound and knocking him unconscious*
*Reynolds drops the pipe and mutters* “Always the hard way” *He then kneels down groaning with pain at his shin injury, and after pulling out his pre-war handcuffs attempts to cuff the man*
Background: (Detailed and in-depth, 2 paragraphs)
Born in Rivet City on the year of 2248 Ryan had a fairly average start to life, his mother was a research assistant to the now 50 year old Dr Madison Li and was breaking new ground in the growth of radiation free, food although the process was not perfect and his father was a member of Rivet city security,Ryan looked up to his father and began to follow his footsteps, finding that although he wasn’t stupid, he was of more use to the city with a gun than walking round in circles with a pen and clipboard, at least, that’s what he thought scientists like his mother did at work.
Ryan recieved a basic education, and in his spare time often enjoyed to explore Rivet City with the other children and despite warnings from his father and mother alike, on his 17th birthday Ryan joined Rivet City Security like his father he was happy there and led a pretty boring and carefree life, when he wasn’t worrying about the super mutant raids, raiders, or other threats taking potshots at him and the other exposed guards, but unfortanently for him, you couldnt always "dodge the bullet", and he was rushed to the infirmary with a super mutants bullet in his right thigh.
While bedridden Bay began to hunger escape from the steel ship, he wanted adventure, and wondered about what he might find out in the wild wasteland, and at the age of 22 left Rivet City armed with all the caps he'd saved and his trusty magnum, and he never went back.
After 4 years taking odd jobs and trying to make a name for himself in the waste’s Ryan had become a hardened individual, having being shot at on a daily basis, he’d lost friends and lovers, he’d been double crossed and cheated, and had been shot at on a near daily basis, eventually he’d learned to cope with loss, he knew to keep moving on, never to truly settle, he learnt to put himself first. Being a hero didn’t pay and that he should always work for the caps as petty loyalties and idea’s grew, changed, mutated and died, nothing could stop that so he might as well make some money of the poor sods before he went somewhere else.
He travelled the land, ran with raiders for while, he took jet, made mistakes, got shot and moved on, he followed this pattern for the next two years and after running with the crimson caravan, moved to New Vegas, and worked for the followers of the apocalypse at the Old Mormon Fort as a security guard, it was rather uneventful despite breaking his magnum while pot shotting at Gecko's. Time passed and Ryan got bored of the place, he didn’t care much for the people, the goals or the place itself, so he blew his caps in Gomorrah and began wandering to San Francisco with a band of others(for safety) having heard rumors of powerful groups heading there,and powerful people always need someone to do their dirty work, so that was all he needed, and off went Bay, following the trail of blood and caps…..as always.
*Powers up vault boy 3000*
"Those are brave men," he told Ser Balon in admiration. "Let's go kill them." -Tyrion Lannister
"I will hurt you for this. A day will come when your joy will turn to ashes and you will know the debt is paid."-Tyrion Lannister
"Is there singing in the Void? Dancing? Surely the Dread Lord will at least allow poor Cicero to caper..."-Cicero
Yeah, but it may just be that he didn't see it due to it being on the other page.
OOC:
IGN: JAWS101
Name: Alec ( I'd prefer not to say my full name )
Age: 17
Time I can dedicate: In the coming 2 weeks almost everyday for 5-8 hours. But once school starts around 1-2 hours weekdays and 5-9 hours on weekends.
Why us? While looking through some of the other servers for Fallout RP I have come to the decision that this one is the most organized, and the most into Role-Playing... which is why I'm here.
Define Role-Playing in your own words: When you act, and think as a person, or thing in a certain character according to the genre of which you are acting after.
Meta-gaming: Using things you learned ooc and put it in use in a IC action or occurrence.
Power-gaming: Doing things that your character wouldn't be able to do without interaction of the other character or thing your are interacting with.
Did I join your website? Yes. I'm Krzbs.
IC:
Name: Dennis Grims (Mr.Grims)
Nickname: NightStalker
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Appearance: 6'5, 215 ibs, Handlebar Mustache, Rough face, multiple scars surrounding eyes and mouth. Very broad shoulders, very in shape, strong and intimidating look. Usually wears casual or heavy armor.
Personality: Very Sarcastic, tends to get very attached to companions, followers, and other people that he spends time around, and gets to know.
Background:
Dennis was born in a small town called Ash-fall outside of Salt-Lake City, this was a very caring, and quiet town allowing Dennis to be raised peacefully and correctly, much like a pre-war child would have been raised... without the comforts of technology of course. With Dennis growing up in a caring family with his parents herding Brahmin for the local food supply, Dennis starting talking and hanging out with the local town merchant, Randall. Randall gave Dennis all of these crazy and amazing stories of treasure, and adventure in the Sand Francisco bay area from when Randall used to be a Courier, and explorer for the NCR. He told Dennis about how well the NCR treated soldiers and their associates in the Bay area, and maybe even convincing Dennis to join up wit them if he ever makes it out that way. But since a the young, but eager Dennis was only 9 at that time, he made alot of promises to the people he cared about...
10 years later...
His mother Marie was slowly dying of Radiation poising when one of the brahmin she herded got attacked by a Glowing ghoul that infected the brahmin with dangerous amounts of radiation, but sadly Marie did not find the brahmin until the ghouls have left. Marie, not wanting the meat to go to waste she sold 3/4 of the meat to Randall and the rest she ate... But Randall sold all of the meat to the local townsfolk, and the Town's population was 17, but after the meat poisoning... there was only 5 left. With 78% of the townsfolk gone, Dennis, Dennis's father Dmitri, and Randall abandon the town of Ash-fall and move westward, to Randall's "promised lands' in a pre-war state called "California". On the trip to California, around New Vegas, the now old Randall peacefully died while sleeping on the trail... But he left behind a note for Dennis, the note told him to meet up with the NCR in San Francisco and live a good life serving a noble cause. Dennis made a promise to himself to enlist with the San Francisco chapter of the NCR's Army.
5 years later...
With major setbacks and several near death experiences, along with losing his father to raiders, Dennis finally came across a sign that said "Welcome to the Grand city of San Francisco". After traversing hundreds of miles of extremely hostile territory, and nearly dying while crossing the wastes that are plagued with bandits... he finally made it to the Bay. Now all that he had to do was find a safe place to stay, and rest temporarily until he located the NCR and Enlisted.
I have redone my Background story and character, everything lines up correctly and I hope you'll think so too! Thanks!