RP Expierence: I am a great RPer as I have been on 2 successful RP servers which include a Skyrim server which I owned and a Star WArs server which was shut down due to copy right reasons.
Leadership Expierence: I am currently mod on the server and have been staff on countless others, not only that but almost anyone I meet will trust me to guide them the right way. I have been told I am great with strategy and chess, I am used to being the leader and not the follower as while I may be gifted at leading I cannot follow in the slightest without messing up. I also am fair to all players and do not discriminate.
Why do you want to lead this faction:Of all the factions in fallout, this one is the greatest for me as I love being around technology, imposing my ideas onto other people, IE wastelanders, and it is one of the few factions that is extremely well organized. It has always been my faction of choice in all fallout games even though it is usually the evil faction but its end term projection is good. The continuation of the human race must be certain and nothing can stand in the way.
Fallout Expierence: I have played and beaten all fallout games and helped build a fallout server.
Define Meta Gaming:Acting out of character or venturing away from the lure and more towards your own personality and not your character's. Its main focus is on OOC interactions to your advantage and making it seem IC but instead you are using outside knowledge to your own advantage. This is probably the worst problem in every RP game that I have ever played as I am a hard core RP player. I despide it when somebody whines in chat about what happened to them during the day or that they died ect. It needs to be removed and kept out of all PR servers in my opinion. (quoted from my mod app)
Define Power Gaming: Using traits, factions, and/or jobs of a player's character to gain power in the world. You can also bend your character to your will or making your character OP through seemingly IC ways. It cheats other players because it makes them face and play with sometimes an unstopable behemoth. I see it as unfare as most people do and would like to see it removed from all servers if not at least this one. All players should be treated the same and must follow along with their role in the game. (quoted from my mod app)
Skype: squid4680
IC -
Name: John T. Krample
Gender: Male
Age: 36
Race: Pure Human
Appearence:Brown hair, brown eyes, 5 foot 9 inches, not too strong but could hold up in a fight.
Signifying Traits:strategicly experienced but raised away from the violence in the world. Good with a gun but could easily hit self with a melee weapon
Signifying Skills:Genius, four eyes, pack mule (likes to carry more items than needed)
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s:
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s:
(40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10) Strength-5 Perception-4 Endurance-6 Charisma-9 Intelligence-10 Agility-2 Luck-4
RP example: Born with an irregular IQ and an appeal for chess, he has always valued intelligence and technology over strength and manueverability
Biography: He grew up fathered under two soldiers of the Enclave, he was tought that everyone not in the Enclave was a mutant and must be treated as an animal. He was not always top of the class growing up as he knew what that meant, being put into the science department. He knew that if we scored just below the standard he would be put into service as a pilot or officer. All he thought about as a kid was school and never family. He never grew attached to his father or mother and never married. By the age of 18 he was given the job as a pilot. He was transfered to the D.C. area where vertibird pilots were rare and quite usefull. He was never off duty and started to suffer from sleep disorder, but still he flew. When the Enclave came to fleeing the D.C. area, he lead the retreat and piloted a bird with a squad heading towards the Long Island area. He planned to return and make a life in D.C. when it was cleansed by the recovering Enclave but until then his main priority was to converse with the Enclave about his future as the future general. After all, it's time for a promotion, isn't it?
Have you read the lore: No, it's in short island though so it must be good.
RP Expierence: Very little, first tiem foar everythinang
Fallout Expierence: I plaid flout 1, 2, 3, and vegas
Define Meta Gaming: When you roleplay like a robot.
Define Power Gaming: When you are overpowerful in all the roleplays
Skype: That is personal infoarmatin, I don't wan yuo too pedefile on mee.
IC -
Name: Fred the Fed
Gender: Mail
Age: 29
Race: homen
Appearance: Is tal and cockasian and wears a fedora while he is kill the mobsters
Signifying Traits: He's very otugoing and god and killing mobbtsers
Signifying Skills: Can hold a tommugun very goodly.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s:
(40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10) Strength-6 Perception-6 Endurance-6 Charisma-5 Intelligence-6 Agility-6 Luck-5
RP example: Fred walked into a bar, he immediately was taken too the nerest hopsitale an suffred from a fatla concussian. They playgrond was closad downn with som cushion tape an noboady was aliod ther forever.
Biography: Fred was a little boyy and he ate a brick of cheese thatt gave him the power to become a fed and shot all of they mobsters so hes could kill them all and aveng his grandma, who got kilded by some wild mobsters out in the tall grass, prof. oak didnt tell Freds granny about the wild mobsters out in the tall grass and that he could never be a piece of nose. Fred used to read grannys a bedtime stoary ebey night befor bedtiems and he could always smell the wild mobsters out in the tall grass down the path, fred has a cat name mr.noogleybooger and he wasays lovde hem wit all his hart. Then he aslo got killed by all of me mobsters an then he moved to loang island and ate a lemon bcus he nows he has friends in canada with maple flakes.
Denied
It was a good app, but i think i will need to revise the leadership applications a bit before i actually accept any at all.
I'll tell you when i finish the revising, and then see how you do on the revised app!
OOC In game name: Dualmittens Age: 15 Gender: Male Country or timezone: Central Time Have you played any Fallout games? Which one(s): Fallout, Fallout 2, Fallout 3, Fallout: New Vegas, Fallout Tactics Why do you want to play on this server?: Because i'm very much rooted in almost all of the fallout community. I'd love to help support my fellow servers with an application, and gracing it with my RP skills, and of course giving it another player to its count.
Have you read the rules: Yes, i have infact. (Go read the rules, you whores.) Have you read the lore?: Yes, i have.
IC Name: William Earl (The Sentinel) Gray Jr. Age: 49 Gender: Male Character's signifying traits and attributes:
Starting with his head, he wears a long brimmed hat. Flat on top, and made of black leather, it covers his aged and worn face. His gray hair is pulled behind his head, in a long ponytail reaching to his mid back. A scruffy bear reaches across his face from ear to ear and hides scar upon scar. Keeping a rusted chain across his neck, ending in a cross, always held under his button up shirt. Covering his shirt, was a light cotton vest. Once black, had now been covered in dust and was far from its original condition or color. Atop of this, he wore a duster made of worn leather, not from movement but from war and the winds of the wasteland. Inside he held many clips of ammunition to his trusted .460 Magnum Revolver he carried on his hip. Named Divinity, it took the lives of many a man, and made widow's of many woman. On his belt, he carried another holster for his pistol and his Kukri knife, which he used to scalp many a bounty. His belt held together by a belt buckle he had won from a poker game with a casino boss, he had also won the scars on his back from the same game. His jeans are of blue denim, scavenged from a collapsed mall somewhere in the Los Angeles area. His boots, made of Brahman leather, stolen from a general store in the hub. Slung over his back is a backpack carrying the majority of his supplies, and a sniper he has since the age of 14, shooting a .404 Cheytac round. S.P.EC.I.A.L.:
S - 6
P - 7
E - 9
C - 4
I - 5
A - 7
L - 2
Spawn Location: Mountains RP example (At LEAST a paragraph): The scene is desolate, almost nothing that appears living for miles around. William walks down the highway, stopping occasionally to look in campers along the great interstate from before the great war. His thoughts were wondering, thinking of home, then to his family, then back to the road as he small creek broke his train of thought. Staring off into the distance he saw a group of looters.
Knowing they lacked the experience or skill to truly harm him, he continues walking, but made sure to made it slow, as he pondered everyone of there movements along the way. Another 20 feet, and he would be in between them. He could see the over watch call out to the others that he was coming. He pulled the brim of his hat down a bit to stop the sun from coming into his eyes, and to cover where he was looking from some of the degenerates in front of him. Stopping for a moment as one pulled his gun and yelled, " 'Aight ya' old geeza'! Hand over ya' caps and we won't hav' ah problaym." He looked over the numbers and armaments of his soon to be attackers.
Confident with his abilities, he began by slowly saying "Your death may not bring me profit, but it will cleanse this highway in blood." Quickly pulling out his pistol, he fanned the hammer with the side of his hand, shooting two of the looters square in the head from about 15 feet away. He quickly ducked behind the trunk of the small car next to him, hearing the shouts and gunfire overhead. As quick as he had pulled off his first two shots, he through his hat into the air, and came out shooting down the remaining 3 guys. Walking past the body's, he reloaded his pistol, and left the looting and meat of the men to the vultures circling overhead. He continued his journey into the expansive wasteland yet untamed by the NCR, or burned by the Legion. Character biography (At LEAST 2 paragraphs): (Since you don't know a lot yet, for now you can just make this not to long, about how you got to the area and your life up until that point)
William Earl Grey Jr. was born into a privileged Brahmin Rancher based in the Baja of Mexico. His father was William Earl Grey Sr., born in The Boneyard, who had earned enough money through Caravan Escorting to start his own ranch and settle down. After 4 years of farming, he had hit his 35th birthday. He sold an extra 2 (technically 4) heads of Brahmin to The Hub, and took his new found fortune on a binge through the city. Upon ending up in a saloon, drinking with another group of younger men he had met, he spied a woman from across the room. Drinking a whiskey shot to calm his nerves he approached her and started talking to her. Her name being Elizabeth, they hit it off, and they left that saloon to go back to his hotel. There began his parent's relationship,
Flash forward 2 years, they had married and expanded their Brahmin farm to help support the child they had coming. One day, while William Sr. was working on the scrap farm, his wife went into a contraction. Hearing her screams from the barn, he hurried over to the house as quickly as possible. Seeing his wife in such pain and her face in such a contortion, his nervous system went into shock. Her yells brought him back out of it, and he rushed to her side, giving her Med-X doses to help calm the pain. When the baby was finally born, he took off his hat as he picked up the baby girl. Her skin was grey, and she wasn't breathing with no pulse. He relized then that she was a still born, and knew his wife would be crushed at its site. Without letting the wife hold the body, he took it outside and dug it a grave, blocking out the cry's he could hear from the shack, and blocking out his own tears from his face. This happened again and again, until his his parents were finally 40.
When William Jr. was finally born, both his parent's felt joy as this was there first child, but quickly fell into despair as his mother's heart rate began to increase. Her face began to cover in sweat as she released she was having a heart attack. She reached out for her son, holding him as her lover panicked to stablize her condition. She knew her end had come, but her husband would not accept it. Her last vision was the site of her baby boy, opening his deep grey eyes to stare at her as her's finally closed.
Growing up, the boy was always told of how beautiful his mother was by his father. He would tell him, "Son, Elizabeth Grey was the most beautiful woman that could ever have walked this wasteland. She only lived so you could come into. Don't dissapoint her Son, go onto do great things." He lived by these words, and always worked to please his father. Expanding the Farm further, it soon became a settlement in the northern Baja called Suciedad Rojo. Growing to about 30 people by the time William was 13.
The whole while, William's body was hardened by the hard rigors of Farm life. Knowing full and well how to work hard, he helped bring up many of the buildings and fences placed around the city. The morning of his 15th birthday, he had awoken to his own excitment. This was the day he would be able to drive the truck one of the locals had promised to let him drive. As he got dressed that morning, he called to his father that he was going to leave. Hearing no answer troubled him, but he hadn't thought to much of it. He went out that afternoon, and drove the old pickup truck for about 26 miles before it broke down again, where he then had to push it back to town with the owner of it. Waving him ado, he left to return home. Opening the door, he smelled something odd in the heat of the shack. He called out to his father like he did that morning, and again heard no answer. His father hadn't had work today, he knew that, so he was even more troubled by his father's lack of answering. He walked into his room to find his fathers body on his bed, and a note on the nightstand that was fashioned out of old car parts.
He dropped to his knee's, and lost his world as he saw his father lie cold and unmoving in the double bed his mother had died in aswell. He felt cold, and unsure as to what to do. He sat there, visibly shaking and pale for over an hour. Finally moving as he swallowed to get more spit into his mouth. He grabbed the note on off the nightstand and stood back up, reading it to himself. It read,
"Son, i'm sorry. I know i won't be here in the morning, so i wrote this note out to you before i finally pass. Your mother loved you so much... I only wish she could have seen you grow up to be such the young stud you finally are. I always tried to push you for this day, the day i wouldn't be here to hold you when you had a nightmare, and the day i wish never had to come. I left you my fortune in the floorboards under my bed, the house and town is under your leadership, and i finally leave you my rifle. I left it in my locker in the basement. I love you son, please remember that. Always.
- Love, you're father; William Earl Grey Sr. "
Tears blotted the page, not only from the son, but from the father. As his life ended, his son's was changed for the rest of his. His son told the town in the morning that his father had died, and attended the cremation of his father in the first pasture he had set out for himself. Going in his house, he grabbed his Father's hat from the rack, and went into the basement. Opening the locker he saw both his father's rifle, and his father's pistol, pulling them out onto the counter for closer examination. He had shot both before, but never felt such responsibility to either. He donned his father's holster, and carried the weapons out of the basement. His life in charge of the people of this town wasn't what he wanted, but he would keep it as long as he could.
At the age of 20, he couldn't stand the place anymore. Hearing of the outside world from traders that came through, he had to leave. He passed the leadership off to a family friend, and sold his property for a decent price. Leaving town with a satchel full of caps and food, he finally set off on his journey into the wastes. Finally reaching the Hub, and starting his new life.
He quickly got a job with a local mercenary company, and quickly gained recognition as a moderate marksmen, and a man that could be shot with a shotgun and come out fine. His endurance was extreme, and and no bullet that pierced him could kill him. Gaining the respect of his fellow mercenaries, he also gained ranks to lead them. After 10 years of fighting for this company, he felt he had to move on. Having a reputation, and expierence under his belt, he began a job as a freelancer.
Starting as a freelancer, it quickly turned into his own moral system of being a bounty hunter. Chasing bounty after bounty, his reputation in the west had expanded exponentially. Nicknamed "The Sentinel", he was unstoppable. What was once a man, became legend, and what was legend became myth. He was the moral arm of God, that none could match.
Taking a mission to take a bounty for a wanted man that has been causing issues for the whole wasteland. He left the comfort of being the legend of the west, he left for the city that ghosts controlled. The city he would tame with fire, and the city he would cleanse with blood. As his journey sent him to the remains of a city burned by nuclear fire, he could only think of what came before him. And the presumable challenges that would behold him.
RP Expierence:I have run an RP server before and joined two different independant RP servers which include a Star Wars server and a fallout server.
Fallout Expierence:I have played and beaten all games
Define Meta Gaming: Acting out of character or venturing away from the lure and more towards your own personality and not your character's. Its main focus is on OOC interactions to your advantage and making it seem IC but instead you are using outside knowledge to your own advantage. This is probably the worst problem in every RP game that I have ever played as I am a hard core RP player. I despide it when somebody whines in chat about what happened to them during the day or that they died ect. It needs to be removed and kept out of all PR servers in my opinion. (quoted from my mod app)
Define Power Gaming: Using traits, factions, and/or jobs of a player's character to gain power in the world. You can also bend your character to your will or making your character OP through seemingly IC ways. It cheats other players because it makes them face and play with sometimes an unstopable behemoth. I see it as unfare as most people do and would like to see it removed from all servers if not at least this one. All players should be treated the same and must follow along with their role in the game. (quoted from my mod app)
IC -
Name: John T. Krample
Gender: Male
Age: 36
Race: Pure Human
Appearence: Brown hair, brown eyes, 5 foot 9 inches, not too strong but could hold up in a fight.
Signifying Traits: strategicly experienced but raised away from the violence in the world. Good with a gun but could easily hit self with a melee weapon
Signifying Skills: Genious, four eyes, pack mule (likes to carry more items than needed)
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s:
(40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10) Strength- 5 Perception- 4 Endurance- 6 Charisma- 9 Intelligence- 10 Agility-2 Luck-4
RP example: Born with an irregular IQ and an appeal for chess, he has always valued intelligence and technology over strength and manueverability
Biography: He grew up fathered under two soldiers of the Enclave, he was tought that everyone not in the Enclave was a mutant and must be treated as an animal. He was not always top of the class growing up as he knew what that meant, being put into the science department. He knew that if we scored just below the standard he would be put into service as a pilot or officer. All he thought about as a kid was school and never family. He never grew attached to his father or mother and never married. By the age of 18 he was given the job as a pilot. He was transfered to the D.C. area where vertibird pilots were rare and quite usefull. He was never off duty and started to suffer from sleep disorder, but still he flew. When the Enclave came to fleeing the D.C. area, he lead the retreat and piloted a bird with a squad heading towards the Long Island area. He planned to return and make a life in D.C. when it was cleansed by the recovering Enclave but until then his main priority was to converse with the Enclave about his future. Whether or not he stayed in the faction, he would still hope to find leadership and seek peace.
Thanks for the support!
Your joy makes MY ovaries burst in joy.
IGN: squid4680
Gender: Male
Age: 15
Have you read the rules: yes
Have you read the lore: yes, I did help write it
RP Expierence: I am a great RPer as I have been on 2 successful RP servers which include a Skyrim server which I owned and a Star WArs server which was shut down due to copy right reasons.
Leadership Expierence: I am currently mod on the server and have been staff on countless others, not only that but almost anyone I meet will trust me to guide them the right way. I have been told I am great with strategy and chess, I am used to being the leader and not the follower as while I may be gifted at leading I cannot follow in the slightest without messing up. I also am fair to all players and do not discriminate.
Why do you want to lead this faction:Of all the factions in fallout, this one is the greatest for me as I love being around technology, imposing my ideas onto other people, IE wastelanders, and it is one of the few factions that is extremely well organized. It has always been my faction of choice in all fallout games even though it is usually the evil faction but its end term projection is good. The continuation of the human race must be certain and nothing can stand in the way.
Fallout Expierence: I have played and beaten all fallout games and helped build a fallout server.
Define Meta Gaming:Acting out of character or venturing away from the lure and more towards your own personality and not your character's. Its main focus is on OOC interactions to your advantage and making it seem IC but instead you are using outside knowledge to your own advantage. This is probably the worst problem in every RP game that I have ever played as I am a hard core RP player. I despide it when somebody whines in chat about what happened to them during the day or that they died ect. It needs to be removed and kept out of all PR servers in my opinion. (quoted from my mod app)
Define Power Gaming: Using traits, factions, and/or jobs of a player's character to gain power in the world. You can also bend your character to your will or making your character OP through seemingly IC ways. It cheats other players because it makes them face and play with sometimes an unstopable behemoth. I see it as unfare as most people do and would like to see it removed from all servers if not at least this one. All players should be treated the same and must follow along with their role in the game. (quoted from my mod app)
Skype: squid4680
IC -
Name: John T. Krample
Gender: Male
Age: 36
Race: Pure Human
Appearence:Brown hair, brown eyes, 5 foot 9 inches, not too strong but could hold up in a fight.
Signifying Traits:strategicly experienced but raised away from the violence in the world. Good with a gun but could easily hit self with a melee weapon
Signifying Skills:Genius, four eyes, pack mule (likes to carry more items than needed)
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s:
(40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10)
Strength-5
Perception-4
Endurance-6
Charisma-9
Intelligence-10
Agility-2
Luck-4
RP example: Born with an irregular IQ and an appeal for chess, he has always valued intelligence and technology over strength and manueverability
Biography: He grew up fathered under two soldiers of the Enclave, he was tought that everyone not in the Enclave was a mutant and must be treated as an animal. He was not always top of the class growing up as he knew what that meant, being put into the science department. He knew that if we scored just below the standard he would be put into service as a pilot or officer. All he thought about as a kid was school and never family. He never grew attached to his father or mother and never married. By the age of 18 he was given the job as a pilot. He was transfered to the D.C. area where vertibird pilots were rare and quite usefull. He was never off duty and started to suffer from sleep disorder, but still he flew. When the Enclave came to fleeing the D.C. area, he lead the retreat and piloted a bird with a squad heading towards the Long Island area. He planned to return and make a life in D.C. when it was cleansed by the recovering Enclave but until then his main priority was to converse with the Enclave about his future as the future general. After all, it's time for a promotion, isn't it?
OOC -
IGN: KaptainKake9
Gender: Both
Age: Older than you
Have you read the rules: No, should I?
Have you read the lore: No, it's in short island though so it must be good.
RP Expierence: Very little, first tiem foar everythinang
Fallout Expierence: I plaid flout 1, 2, 3, and vegas
Define Meta Gaming: When you roleplay like a robot.
Define Power Gaming: When you are overpowerful in all the roleplays
Skype: That is personal infoarmatin, I don't wan yuo too pedefile on mee.
IC -
Name: Fred the Fed
Gender: Mail
Age: 29
Race: homen
Appearance: Is tal and cockasian and wears a fedora while he is kill the mobsters
Signifying Traits: He's very otugoing and god and killing mobbtsers
Signifying Skills: Can hold a tommugun very goodly.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s:
(40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10)
Strength-6
Perception-6
Endurance-6
Charisma-5
Intelligence-6
Agility-6
Luck-5
RP example: Fred walked into a bar, he immediately was taken too the nerest hopsitale an suffred from a fatla concussian. They playgrond was closad downn with som cushion tape an noboady was aliod ther forever.
Biography: Fred was a little boyy and he ate a brick of cheese thatt gave him the power to become a fed and shot all of they mobsters so hes could kill them all and aveng his grandma, who got kilded by some wild mobsters out in the tall grass, prof. oak didnt tell Freds granny about the wild mobsters out in the tall grass and that he could never be a piece of nose. Fred used to read grannys a bedtime stoary ebey night befor bedtiems and he could always smell the wild mobsters out in the tall grass down the path, fred has a cat name mr.noogleybooger and he wasays lovde hem wit all his hart. Then he aslo got killed by all of me mobsters an then he moved to loang island and ate a lemon bcus he nows he has friends in canada with maple flakes.
Good edit XD
Denied
It was a good app, but i think i will need to revise the leadership applications a bit before i actually accept any at all.
I'll tell you when i finish the revising, and then see how you do on the revised app!
Accepted
Props for creativity XD You're gonna have to redo it, however. Please try again.
OKAY SOARY MAMMI
Accepted
Good work X3
OKAY SOARY MAMMI
Stfu and redo it XD
In game name: Dualmittens
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Country or timezone: Central Time
Have you played any Fallout games? Which one(s): Fallout, Fallout 2, Fallout 3, Fallout: New Vegas, Fallout Tactics
Why do you want to play on this server?: Because i'm very much rooted in almost all of the fallout community. I'd love to help support my fellow servers with an application, and gracing it with my RP skills, and of course giving it another player to its count.
Have you read the rules: Yes, i have infact. (Go read the rules, you whores.)
Have you read the lore?: Yes, i have.
IC
Name: William Earl (The Sentinel) Gray Jr.
Age: 49
Gender: Male
Character's signifying traits and attributes:
Starting with his head, he wears a long brimmed hat. Flat on top, and made of black leather, it covers his aged and worn face. His gray hair is pulled behind his head, in a long ponytail reaching to his mid back. A scruffy bear reaches across his face from ear to ear and hides scar upon scar. Keeping a rusted chain across his neck, ending in a cross, always held under his button up shirt. Covering his shirt, was a light cotton vest. Once black, had now been covered in dust and was far from its original condition or color. Atop of this, he wore a duster made of worn leather, not from movement but from war and the winds of the wasteland. Inside he held many clips of ammunition to his trusted .460 Magnum Revolver he carried on his hip. Named Divinity, it took the lives of many a man, and made widow's of many woman. On his belt, he carried another holster for his pistol and his Kukri knife, which he used to scalp many a bounty. His belt held together by a belt buckle he had won from a poker game with a casino boss, he had also won the scars on his back from the same game. His jeans are of blue denim, scavenged from a collapsed mall somewhere in the Los Angeles area. His boots, made of Brahman leather, stolen from a general store in the hub. Slung over his back is a backpack carrying the majority of his supplies, and a sniper he has since the age of 14, shooting a .404 Cheytac round.
S.P.EC.I.A.L.:
S - 6
P - 7
E - 9
C - 4
I - 5
A - 7
L - 2
Spawn Location:
Mountains
RP example (At LEAST a paragraph):
The scene is desolate, almost nothing that appears living for miles around. William walks down the highway, stopping occasionally to look in campers along the great interstate from before the great war. His thoughts were wondering, thinking of home, then to his family, then back to the road as he small creek broke his train of thought. Staring off into the distance he saw a group of looters.
Knowing they lacked the experience or skill to truly harm him, he continues walking, but made sure to made it slow, as he pondered everyone of there movements along the way. Another 20 feet, and he would be in between them. He could see the over watch call out to the others that he was coming. He pulled the brim of his hat down a bit to stop the sun from coming into his eyes, and to cover where he was looking from some of the degenerates in front of him. Stopping for a moment as one pulled his gun and yelled, " 'Aight ya' old geeza'! Hand over ya' caps and we won't hav' ah problaym." He looked over the numbers and armaments of his soon to be attackers.
Confident with his abilities, he began by slowly saying "Your death may not bring me profit, but it will cleanse this highway in blood." Quickly pulling out his pistol, he fanned the hammer with the side of his hand, shooting two of the looters square in the head from about 15 feet away. He quickly ducked behind the trunk of the small car next to him, hearing the shouts and gunfire overhead. As quick as he had pulled off his first two shots, he through his hat into the air, and came out shooting down the remaining 3 guys. Walking past the body's, he reloaded his pistol, and left the looting and meat of the men to the vultures circling overhead. He continued his journey into the expansive wasteland yet untamed by the NCR, or burned by the Legion.
Character biography (At LEAST 2 paragraphs): (Since you don't know a lot yet, for now you can just make this not to long, about how you got to the area and your life up until that point)
William Earl Grey Jr. was born into a privileged Brahmin Rancher based in the Baja of Mexico. His father was William Earl Grey Sr., born in The Boneyard, who had earned enough money through Caravan Escorting to start his own ranch and settle down. After 4 years of farming, he had hit his 35th birthday. He sold an extra 2 (technically 4) heads of Brahmin to The Hub, and took his new found fortune on a binge through the city. Upon ending up in a saloon, drinking with another group of younger men he had met, he spied a woman from across the room. Drinking a whiskey shot to calm his nerves he approached her and started talking to her. Her name being Elizabeth, they hit it off, and they left that saloon to go back to his hotel. There began his parent's relationship,
Flash forward 2 years, they had married and expanded their Brahmin farm to help support the child they had coming. One day, while William Sr. was working on the scrap farm, his wife went into a contraction. Hearing her screams from the barn, he hurried over to the house as quickly as possible. Seeing his wife in such pain and her face in such a contortion, his nervous system went into shock. Her yells brought him back out of it, and he rushed to her side, giving her Med-X doses to help calm the pain. When the baby was finally born, he took off his hat as he picked up the baby girl. Her skin was grey, and she wasn't breathing with no pulse. He relized then that she was a still born, and knew his wife would be crushed at its site. Without letting the wife hold the body, he took it outside and dug it a grave, blocking out the cry's he could hear from the shack, and blocking out his own tears from his face. This happened again and again, until his his parents were finally 40.
When William Jr. was finally born, both his parent's felt joy as this was there first child, but quickly fell into despair as his mother's heart rate began to increase. Her face began to cover in sweat as she released she was having a heart attack. She reached out for her son, holding him as her lover panicked to stablize her condition. She knew her end had come, but her husband would not accept it. Her last vision was the site of her baby boy, opening his deep grey eyes to stare at her as her's finally closed.
Growing up, the boy was always told of how beautiful his mother was by his father. He would tell him, "Son, Elizabeth Grey was the most beautiful woman that could ever have walked this wasteland. She only lived so you could come into. Don't dissapoint her Son, go onto do great things." He lived by these words, and always worked to please his father. Expanding the Farm further, it soon became a settlement in the northern Baja called Suciedad Rojo. Growing to about 30 people by the time William was 13.
The whole while, William's body was hardened by the hard rigors of Farm life. Knowing full and well how to work hard, he helped bring up many of the buildings and fences placed around the city. The morning of his 15th birthday, he had awoken to his own excitment. This was the day he would be able to drive the truck one of the locals had promised to let him drive. As he got dressed that morning, he called to his father that he was going to leave. Hearing no answer troubled him, but he hadn't thought to much of it. He went out that afternoon, and drove the old pickup truck for about 26 miles before it broke down again, where he then had to push it back to town with the owner of it. Waving him ado, he left to return home. Opening the door, he smelled something odd in the heat of the shack. He called out to his father like he did that morning, and again heard no answer. His father hadn't had work today, he knew that, so he was even more troubled by his father's lack of answering. He walked into his room to find his fathers body on his bed, and a note on the nightstand that was fashioned out of old car parts.
He dropped to his knee's, and lost his world as he saw his father lie cold and unmoving in the double bed his mother had died in aswell. He felt cold, and unsure as to what to do. He sat there, visibly shaking and pale for over an hour. Finally moving as he swallowed to get more spit into his mouth. He grabbed the note on off the nightstand and stood back up, reading it to himself.
It read,
"Son, i'm sorry. I know i won't be here in the morning, so i wrote this note out to you before i finally pass. Your mother loved you so much... I only wish she could have seen you grow up to be such the young stud you finally are. I always tried to push you for this day, the day i wouldn't be here to hold you when you had a nightmare, and the day i wish never had to come. I left you my fortune in the floorboards under my bed, the house and town is under your leadership, and i finally leave you my rifle. I left it in my locker in the basement. I love you son, please remember that. Always.
- Love, you're father;
William Earl Grey Sr. "
Tears blotted the page, not only from the son, but from the father. As his life ended, his son's was changed for the rest of his. His son told the town in the morning that his father had died, and attended the cremation of his father in the first pasture he had set out for himself. Going in his house, he grabbed his Father's hat from the rack, and went into the basement. Opening the locker he saw both his father's rifle, and his father's pistol, pulling them out onto the counter for closer examination. He had shot both before, but never felt such responsibility to either. He donned his father's holster, and carried the weapons out of the basement. His life in charge of the people of this town wasn't what he wanted, but he would keep it as long as he could.
At the age of 20, he couldn't stand the place anymore. Hearing of the outside world from traders that came through, he had to leave. He passed the leadership off to a family friend, and sold his property for a decent price. Leaving town with a satchel full of caps and food, he finally set off on his journey into the wastes. Finally reaching the Hub, and starting his new life.
He quickly got a job with a local mercenary company, and quickly gained recognition as a moderate marksmen, and a man that could be shot with a shotgun and come out fine. His endurance was extreme, and and no bullet that pierced him could kill him. Gaining the respect of his fellow mercenaries, he also gained ranks to lead them. After 10 years of fighting for this company, he felt he had to move on. Having a reputation, and expierence under his belt, he began a job as a freelancer.
Starting as a freelancer, it quickly turned into his own moral system of being a bounty hunter. Chasing bounty after bounty, his reputation in the west had expanded exponentially. Nicknamed "The Sentinel", he was unstoppable. What was once a man, became legend, and what was legend became myth. He was the moral arm of God, that none could match.
Taking a mission to take a bounty for a wanted man that has been causing issues for the whole wasteland. He left the comfort of being the legend of the west, he left for the city that ghosts controlled. The city he would tame with fire, and the city he would cleanse with blood. As his journey sent him to the remains of a city burned by nuclear fire, he could only think of what came before him. And the presumable challenges that would behold him.
Thank you for the support!
Denied. Horrible app.
Jk lol dat was awesome mane.
You go to bed :3
Like i said, you fell asleep in the skype/oovoo call. I win :3
Now, i will watch you sleep for a bit before passing out myself.
IGN:squid4680
Gender:Male
Age:15
Have you read the rules:yes
Have you read the lore:yes, i helped write it
RP Expierence:I have run an RP server before and joined two different independant RP servers which include a Star Wars server and a fallout server.
Fallout Expierence:I have played and beaten all games
Define Meta Gaming: Acting out of character or venturing away from the lure and more towards your own personality and not your character's. Its main focus is on OOC interactions to your advantage and making it seem IC but instead you are using outside knowledge to your own advantage. This is probably the worst problem in every RP game that I have ever played as I am a hard core RP player. I despide it when somebody whines in chat about what happened to them during the day or that they died ect. It needs to be removed and kept out of all PR servers in my opinion. (quoted from my mod app)
Define Power Gaming: Using traits, factions, and/or jobs of a player's character to gain power in the world. You can also bend your character to your will or making your character OP through seemingly IC ways. It cheats other players because it makes them face and play with sometimes an unstopable behemoth. I see it as unfare as most people do and would like to see it removed from all servers if not at least this one. All players should be treated the same and must follow along with their role in the game. (quoted from my mod app)
IC -
Name: John T. Krample
Gender: Male
Age: 36
Race: Pure Human
Appearence: Brown hair, brown eyes, 5 foot 9 inches, not too strong but could hold up in a fight.
Signifying Traits: strategicly experienced but raised away from the violence in the world. Good with a gun but could easily hit self with a melee weapon
Signifying Skills: Genious, four eyes, pack mule (likes to carry more items than needed)
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.'s:
(40 points to distribute, maxes out on 10)
Strength- 5
Perception- 4
Endurance- 6
Charisma- 9
Intelligence- 10
Agility-2
Luck-4
RP example: Born with an irregular IQ and an appeal for chess, he has always valued intelligence and technology over strength and manueverability
Biography: He grew up fathered under two soldiers of the Enclave, he was tought that everyone not in the Enclave was a mutant and must be treated as an animal. He was not always top of the class growing up as he knew what that meant, being put into the science department. He knew that if we scored just below the standard he would be put into service as a pilot or officer. All he thought about as a kid was school and never family. He never grew attached to his father or mother and never married. By the age of 18 he was given the job as a pilot. He was transfered to the D.C. area where vertibird pilots were rare and quite usefull. He was never off duty and started to suffer from sleep disorder, but still he flew. When the Enclave came to fleeing the D.C. area, he lead the retreat and piloted a bird with a squad heading towards the Long Island area. He planned to return and make a life in D.C. when it was cleansed by the recovering Enclave but until then his main priority was to converse with the Enclave about his future. Whether or not he stayed in the faction, he would still hope to find leadership and seek peace.
Denied
Your RP example is more like a signifying traits thing, than it is an actual RP Example.
Can't wait to see it!