(this is subject to change. I've had a hack attempt on this account and may be forced out of it eventually.)
-Skype name (Optional, for server OOC chat): grz_art
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example? I do in fact have prior role-play experience; Though I do not know what be a sufficient example. Here's one of the last posts of one of the RPs I was in on these forums some years ago; I doubt my writing has improved much since then.
Bloodroot...
Tirsen named the plant as he saw it, making sure his memory was still sharp. He bent over and dug his fingers into the soil around the plant, loosening the dirt around the plant's deep roots. He gently pulled it up from the ground; the long, red, subterranean branches that gave the plant its name coming forth. He brushed the plant clean, and gently tucked it into his bag.
Looking up into the sky, Tirsen realized he did not have enough time to continue searching for reagents, so he settled for what he had and began the return into the city.
---------------
"Which way to Leoch's?" Tirsen repeated, over and over; and again again he went unnoticed. The people, either too busy or too racist to give him the time of day, would not answer his simple question. He attempted to read several signs posted in hopes of some direction, but after so long he still did not know how to read well enough to determine what "Leoch" would look like written down. So he continued to ask around, hoping someone would show mercy. In the back of his mind he regretted leaving the city at all; he should have stayed to keep following the man. Tirsen was too embarrassed to have mentioned his lack of literacy to his bandit companions, not that he thought they could read either; but now he was certainly stuck.
Finally, a young boy pointed in the direction of the inn, much against his mother's wishes, who quickly snatched him up and ran off. But Tirsen had enough to work with. He drifted in the general direction of the inn long enough to catch wind of the smell of alcohol, vomit, and sweat. He calmly walked into the establishment and braced himself.
As he expected, the patrons of the bar quieted themselves for a moment, staring at him. Probably wondering what he was doing there, and where the rest of his clothes were. He stood there and stared back at them briefly, then sat himself down where it was empty. He glanced around the room and noticed the man from before, along with lizardmen and that...odd lynxwoman. He decided against approaching them, since they seemed to be amidst conversation. Instead he decided he would wait for his bandit friends and let them do all the talking...if they ever managed to show up.
Just in case they wouldn't, Tirsen went over in his mind ways to prove himself for the man and seem worthy to be taken along in the quest to claim the bounty.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Power-gaming is when someone is behaving "unrealistically" or otherwise uncharacteristically for the purpose of "winning" or achieving their desired goals, instead of allowing events to unfold naturally or realistically. For example, always going for the killing blow in combat, or always being able to avoid capture. It is unrealism for the sake of being right or exceptional. And it's rather childish.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Meta-gaming is using OOC knowledge IC; it is taking information that you, as a player, are aware of and applying it to your character. For example, understanding a language that is not common that your character is not learned in, or using information you read through the Lore that your character would have no real way of knowing.
-Define Role-Playing in your own words: Roleplaying is the nearly lost art of storytelling and character development from multiple authors, each one writing and creating from the vantage of his own character. Like an unscripted play where every actor is a playwright, it is fully adopting the character you have created in a created world, and allowing the genuine interactions between other characters and the world around them to develop into its own unique story and style of gameplay.
----IC Info---- -Character name: Veras Vayrderoth
-Character race: Half-Elf (Human and Dark-Elf)
-Character gender: Male
-Character age: 24
-Character Occupation: Hunter / Poacher (this occupation is a ruse to divert attention)
-Character description: Veras appears more dark-elf than human; his complexion is an almost purplish-grey, his eyes are a reddish brown, and his hair is bleach white. He stands at approximately 5'10, with a thin but lean physique. His humanity manifests itself most innately: he does not possess the same low-light vision or metabolism that his mother had; he is much more like an average man in prowess and ability.
He keeps his hair cut long; not that it is seen often. His typical outfit consists of cloaks and hoods, and very often face masks, to shield his face as much as possible from the elements of magic that mages would hurl at his head to blind or scar. He is always dressed ready for battle, with leather armor, boots, and strappings both light and flexible; with little regard for protection from weather. He retains a sword given to him by his father, used by the elder during his time in the Hunters' Guild, and a bow given him by his mother; a weathered remnant of a time long past.
-Character personality and traits: Veras is a stoic man; hardened by the training and experiences he endured during childhood. His ultimate drive is one of a very skewed perception of justice and religion. He exists to persecute magic. His father, a madman, instilled this in him, and he would show no remorse over the corpse of a mage of any age or race. His hatred is intense and his purpose is clear, but in his own mind, he does all of this out of duty and service to Aderoth; a god usually attributed to healing rather than death. His beliefs are thus cultish and specific to his family (and whatever madmen would believe his words). He is also thus a very religious man, venerating Aderoth and deifying angels. He sees the act of magic persecution as a service to Aderoth, and as a "healing of the land."
Outside of these inexplicable beliefs, however, Veras would not be considered as mad as his father. He is calculating and practical, perhaps, but not without mercy and goodness to others. His strong religious convictions mean that he is kind and generous to the common man, but in the absence of a smile and without a need for thanks. On a personable level, he is reserved, seemingly always focused on his mission. Internally, however, he struggles with doubt; plagued by the memory of his forgotten sister, a mage slain by his brother's hand in the sight of their father. Sometimes, it would appear as though he buries himself in his work and excuses his actions with religion in an attempt to bury her memory.
Lastly, Veras has a love for book-knowledge. He has collected numerous tomes and holy scrolls and will pay dearly for any writings pertaining to Aderoth. He has been known to write himself, though mostly for documentation of his exploits and travels.
-Character biography:
Blood is everything.
In order to understand the man that Veras has become, one must understand the heritage of his blood. It started years ago, with the unheeded march of the Pact. Forced to flee Manadh Calad, a Dark-elven woman sought succor in the city of Barkamsted, a refugee from the raging war. On her way into town she came upon a young human man, shouting on about Hunters and recruitment. She didn't hear his words, only his lovely voice. She often whispered that they two were fated to meet there. He was young and she was forward, and neither of them had care for the stigmas placed upon such relationships; war gives way to recklessness. And unbeknownst to her, he was a man of war and devotion, in service to the Hunter's Guild for which he had become a recruiter; the old men of the Guild wanted a younger face to attract more younger faces, so he never saw real battle, but he was trained in their ways and taught their secrets.
Years passed and battles were waged, and a time came when whispers of the fabled Blighted Weapons reached the Hunters' ears. Whether devotion or madness drove him, none know, but he became so obsessively devout to Aderoth, and to light and purity, that it became this lowly Hunters' self-proclaimed mission to find these artifacts: not for use, but destruction. He began to ramble on upon the evil of the forbidden magic that formed them, and of the evil of all magic (a belief either propagated by his Dark-elf lover, or perhaps the belief that drew him to her). In the last years of his life he shut himself and his lover up in their home, and while they dutifully observed the law they were scarcely seen or heard from again. In seclusion he created his own dichotomy of religion, a cultish understanding of magic as being the antithesis of light and holiness (despite the fact that holy magic exists; a colloquial "grey area" of the madman's own headcanon), and in seclusion he taught this knowledge to his sons.
Veras was not the eldest. His elder brother was Verildar, whom Veras did not truly know. He was given the name Vayderoth, in honor of Aderoth, and instructed in the art of the hunt as his father knew. After Veras was born, he remembers that Verildar would come home many a night with a trinket in hand: the trophy of a different kind of hunt. Veras only understood this truth when his younger sister was born. At a young age, Verildar held some sort of trinket close by her, a ritual that he supposed that both brothers had undergone when they were too young to remember. One by one, a series of trinkets were held to her, and at the last, it glowed and sparked. She had manifested a talent for magic. After a moment of silence, Verildar killed the young girl with his own hands, as their father watched and was made proud. Veras was too young to understand and screamed and cried, but this family-cult assured him that their sister had become an abomination and a blight; the curse of the world. One night soon after Verildar did not come home, and the vigil to Aderoth lasted a week after his death; reportedly at the hands of a master mage.
Veras' duty became all the more clear that day. He has come to understand magic as a blight itself, whether it is used for good or for evil. It alone is the reason for the cracks between hell and earth. Veras has adopted his father's hatred of Bothimir, equaled only by a hatred for Udero who keeps Aderoth and Behmos in balance. Shrines to these "false" gods are desecrated in Veras' sight, as is the life of any would-be mage, as he now travels to and fro seeking to end the lives of the next would-be arcanists, under the guise of a poacher selling game. Veras has sworn an oath by Aderoth to deliver holy and pure justice, whether or not the common folk understand his goals, and to never forget the sacrifice Verildar made to keep the world safe from evil; a sacrifice paid in blood.
Blood is everything.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each):
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
"You rotten little..."
Veras muttered in Elvish under his breath as he realized what had just occurred. Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, he pounced and began to pursue the child through the markets. The chase was natural; instinctive. The prey was different; perish the thought at considering the child such, but in its own way, the cat-and-mouse game they played was its own kind of hunt. Without a second thought, Veras whispered a silent prayer to Perities; not for the grace of truly hunting the boy, but the grace of catching him. Though in his mind he understood that he was simply retrieving his purse, Veras soon began to experience the all-too familiar flashes that came with the chase;
With each step he saw the terrorized faces of young mages, looking back at him in horror as they realized their fate. With each market stand that made wind as he rushed past, he heard the cries of the arcanist as they struggled to conjure some spell to defend themselves with. Suddenly, he was no longer pursuing a young thief. He was the witcher, and the child the monster; he the huntsman, and the child the prey. His eyes narrowed, his stride expanded, his gait quickened as he tightened his limbs and became like a deer galloping through the forest of stalls and stands. And now, he was upon his prize.
He reached forth and snatched the child by his garb, yanking back with enough force to tear the cloth. As the child fell, he spilled the coin in every direction. His eyes met Veras', and a familiar terror his countenance. The child was a young girl. Veras had taken the life of innocence before, though to call a mage innocent was a foreign notion; but never could he bring himself to bring judgement on the young girls. They were too much like...her. The one he lost to evil. The one taken from him, just as he had taken from others in the name of Good. In the eyes of the young thief, Veras saw his sister. Her cold and lifeless corpse staining the ground with the pestilence of magic; her blood redeeming man of sin.
His vision ended, and the child had gone. A crowd gathered as Veras stood motionless over the pile of coin, and a beggar crept ever closer to try and take some for himself. Veras knelt down and gathered what he could before turning to go. To hide.
To forget.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
"And so," Veras muttered in the Elvish tongue, "The mighty hunter becomes the prey."
He knelt down beside the injured creature, and it snarled; unable to discern his motives. Truthfully, he could do no better. He simply did his best to assess; could the creature survive? Probably. But that would require more effort than he had to give. The likelihood is that the creature would die; the mighty hunter felled by man's poor attempt to be like her.
The animal yelped in pain, and the pups around her barked and howled, one of them gnawing at Veras' boot.
"Your time has come, hunter," he whispered to the wolf, "rest from your chase."
With one swift motion he drew his sword and plunged it, with both hands on the hilt, into the creature's eye. It gave a final shriek before curdling, twitching as its nerves reacted to the final moments of death. Immediately, the pups viciously attacked Veras, and he had no choice. He knew that they were but protecting their caretaker, but they were no hunters of their own that they could withstand him, or the wilds of the woods, alone.
With three twists of his wrists, they all lay in the grass, lifeless. Veras carefully undid the bear trap holding the creature's body, and he skinned it for its pelt. He took no pleasure in the act, but saw the befitting cycle represented by hunter and hunted. He slung the fur over his shoulders, saying a prayer to Aderoth to accept the hunters' souls as he carried his earnings into the village. In a way, the she-wolf served a higher purpose. Her skin added to his guise so that his mission could continue unnoticed; and in her own way, she was helping rid the world of its gravest sin.
Or so he convinced himself.
Extra notes (Optional, could include theme songs, pictures, etc.):
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): grz_art
Time Zone: EST
Prior Bans and reasons: None
Define Role-play: Roleplay is art with words, storytelling with multiple authors, from the vantage of characters within the story. It is not a novel written by one man, but a real interaction between people as they become the characters they have created. Hippie jargon-filled nonsense aside, it’s a game where you are playing from the vantage of a character entirely; not as yourself, but with the reactions and emotions of a well-developed character, as you progress through their life and story.
Define Powergaming: Powergaming, if RP terminology hasn’t changed in the last 5 years, is when in a given situation your character is somehow over- or all- powered. Able to do things that, realistically, would not be able to happen.
Define Metagaming: Metagaming is when, IC, a character behaves with knowledge they cannot know, but that is known by the player or author, OOC. It is being untrue to the development of the character.
Previous roleplay experience: Good God, man. Let’s see. I ran a Fallout Minecraft server back in the day. Called it Old World Blues. Guess there’s no escaping the shadows of the old world, huh? Anyway, I’ve also ran and participated in Forum based RP for many, many years. Like, since I was 13. Been a member of Roleplayer’s Guild and Coloholics Anonymous but always preferred more specific RPs. I’m pretty sure before I went awol I did some RPs on these forums too.
Previous Fallout experience: I’ve played Fallout NV and a little bit of Fallout 3, but I’ve read pretty much every fallout wiki article at least once. I love the Fallout backstory and lore, and Fallout is one of my favorite fandoms like ever.
Have you read the rules?: Yes. Through and through.
Write any further questions here: Is it dumb to submit this when it’s closing Oct 3? D:
IC:
Character Name: Leslie Dobbs
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance (Please include an in-game screenshot of your skin): Leslie is a short but slender girl, with light skin, long, brown hair, and brown eyes.
Strengths: Leslie is incredibly gifted anatomy, virtually memorizing its entire layout and able to aid the body’s healing and ease pain; or, if need be, inflict it in great amounts. Being small, she is also rather agile.
Weaknesses: Leslie is small and weaker, so not of too much use in an actual, drawn out fight. She is also rather inept socially, thanks to her upbringing, and sometimes has epilepsy-like spasms and fits of craziness. All that’s explained, though, I promise it isn’t random.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.:
Strength: 3
Perception: 7
Endurance: 3
Charisma: 7
Intelligence: 9
Agility: 7
Luck: 4
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
All Leslie had ever known, was the vault. Its creaks and groans from wear and tear, its long, echoey hallways, the comforts of its enclosing walls. It was always home.
There was so much about the vault that Leslie loved growing up. She loved the people, always so nice to her. She loved the music that would come over the intercom sometimes. She loved to scavenge for old holotapes and listen to what the world before the vaut was like. She loved to explore all the hidden and forgotten rooms of the vault. She loved to go to the engineering rooms and study them, figure out how they worked. She loved to play with the old computers and make them do funny things around the vault, like activate sprinkles or close doors. And the food, by goodness she loved the food that they would whip up. Sometimes they would have steak, sometimes they would have hamburgers, even. Whatever it was, she knew it was going to be tasty and have meat, and she loved to eat.
But one day she made a mistake, and even though her parents tried to hide and lie about it to her, she always knew. One day she was having a quite delicious order of ham and green beans, when she asked her parents aloud, “So where does all the ham come from?”
Every single person in the room stopped and stared. She heard a young boy snicker, and his father hit him when he did. One of the ladies in the mess hall gave Leslie’s parents an awful glare. It was very clear to everyone that the question should not have been asked.
Her parents tried to make up all sorts of excuses and stories, but Leslie knew. On some level, she had always known. She knew there was no room where plants were grown, no room where animals were kept. There was only the freezer, and she knew that there was no way that the small freezer and storage held enough food for all these years. She had even heard a holotape once explaining how the animals were dying and they didn’t know what to do next. She even knew, even then, that it sort of explained The Crazies that the people sometimes got after eating. What she didn’t know, was how they chose which people to eat.
When she got older, and the stigma of cannibalism was removed, it was revealed to her that there was a drawing. Apparently the drawing was every six months, and several names were drawn. The kitchen would then be responsible for making those people last as long as possible before another name had to be drawn. Once she was older, this was more of a normal occurrence. The children were kept from the idea because it was still thought to be traumatc to some degree, but just like sex, it had to be talked about at some point. And so it became a normal thing. Sometimes people would disappear and everyone would understand their sacrifice. Some tried to forget, but most thanked God in their prayers that they were given more food and more life to live. The few for the many.
Then, one day, the vault opened.
Imagine the hysteria. Scouts came back with stories of plentiful amouns of the things people are supposed to eat; crops and animals. Immediately the vault was divided. Enter this brave new world and find new food sources, or stay here and eat their brethren. Many decided to leave the vault, but those who stayed faced a terrible fate.
No longer was cannibalism a sacrifice neccisary for survival, but a pleasure too deep to forfeit. Pro-cannibals swarmed the Overseers office and the kitchen, and they reveled in their feasts. Abductions were no longer quiet, but open celebrations of human flesh. The victims were bled in public before being taken to the butcher’s room. Anyone who dared interfere was taken next. Some even bragged about how good their meals tasted. Others, like Leslie’s family, would eat in silence, and forever regret not taking the opportunity to leave. Deserters were always served for Dessert.
One day, Leslie’s family sat her down, and explained how they believed they shouldn’t eat people anymore; not like this. They begged her to leave, and they would help her leave and correct their mistakes. She agreed. But sadly, that wouldn’t be the case. Before anything could be done with that plan, the men from the kitchen showed up at their door. The family was dragged out as everyone applauded and cheered. Leslie watched as they used butcher knives to make cuts on her parents’ skin. She could hardly feel it when they cut her, save for the blood streaming down her little arms.
She was twelve years old.
They brought her to the storage room. It was dark, but warm. She thought she would be killed, but the kitchen knew she would have so much more meat on her bones in a few years. They kept her in the storage room by herself. No one that young had ever been kept as a meal before, so she was alone. The chefs would feed her but she wouldn’t eat. She didn’t want to risk eating what was left of her parents. She wanted to honor their choices. Day after day she skipped meals, spending her time scratching enginnering plans and circuit board layouts into the walls, whatever she could remember. Time passed so slowly in there, or was it passing by fast?
Eventually, she had to eat. She was so hungry, starving. She felt like her stomach would implode if she didn’t. She sank her teeth into the juicy red meat, revelling in its satisfaction. But amidst the meat was something hard and cold, too cold to be bone.
It was a ring. A wedding ring. Her mothers.
She kept eating.
Her ghoulishness impressed the kitchen. She was allowed to leave the storage room to go to the freezer, and the place they cut the meat. With each passing day, she spent more time outside. Sometimes the butcher would allow her to watch the killing process. “You bleed them dry first. Alive.” The butcher would say. Time and time again she would watch these men kill the inhabitants of the vault, she watch as they were dissected, the good parts kept, the bad parts thrown away.
And one day it changed again. Heroes from the wasteland, the deserters of the vault and those joining the cause, stormed the vault, freeing inhabitants and ending perpetrators. They killed the butcher and the men in the kitchen and took Leslie away. Away from the vault and the storage room she called home. They took her away but she didn’t want to go. When they left the vault she ran from them. Because
All Leslie had ever known, was the vault. Its creaks and groans from wear and tear, its long, echoey hallways, the comforts of its enclosing walls. It was always home.
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?: (this is all under the pretense that my radio is not two-way)
Leslie ran over to the injured guard, fumbling for her own pistol as she did.
“Look, I’m just gonna help you, okay? But no sudden movements!” she screamed.
She then dropped her gun and reached for the First Aid Kit, trying desperately to patch the man as he faded in and out of consciousness. She had just enough gauze to cover most of the woudn, and she took off her outer shirt and tied it around the man’s leg, hoping to stop some of the bleeding.
She surveyed her surroundings. She couldn’t believe that the raiders wouldn’t take the bodies for food. She was only just beginning to understand just how deep a crime cannibalism was to everyone outside the vault. Not even the criminals ate people.
The man she was attempting to tend to collapsed completely. She had done what she could to stop the bleeding, but knew that the men needed desperate medical attention. A doctor’s bag would have what she needed to clean and cover the wound. She moved to the caravan, half hoping to find something to help the man, half hoping to find supplies for herself.. She scavenged for all the items she could, then looked at the body of the other guard. Blood was still fresh. Wounds needed to be cleaned, but still…
After a bit more scavenging, and resolving that the merchant was also very dead, she woke up the first guard by injecting a stimpak into his thigh. The resulting speed in blood pressure snapped him back into a groggy consciousness. Leslie helped the man to his leg and began to hobble away from the caravan with him.
“…cara…caravan…” he mumbled.
“Don’t worry,” she said as she patted her now blood-soaked bag. “We won’t forget their sacrifice.”
Experience(*): Well, I'm the lead Media Designer for my previous school, which includes Graphic Design, T-Shirt Design, Web Design, and Marketing Design. I also do web and graphic design for 3 other small businesses. I will gladly give links to all of these if you are interested but I can't post them here for liability's sake. (aka, don't want them to see me using their companies to land a job that revolves around a video game past time.)
Personality: Well, people tell me I'm sarcastic. So that's a thing. I love humor, but I hate comedy, if that tells you anything about me. I assume I'm pretty chill to work with, but then again, I'm a little biased here, aren't I? I'm 22, paid decently, taking classes, and I still play video games, so that says a lot about my maturity I guess.
Skype address: grz_art
Images of Past Work or a link to a Portfolio: (1GB Attachment limit is killing me)
Love the look of this project! Unfortunately, I am neither an experienced builder nor good with plugins (anymore, the internets develop too fast for me to keep up.) But love what you're doing and hope to be a part of it! I can offer services as a graphic designer, skin / texture artist, or lore writer if you have need for any of those. But all in all, totally support this!
“It has been speculated that if you went far enough out, or created enough energy, you could reach a place where one plus one equaled three. Everything would change. All energy, all matter, all the underlying math of the universe would be unrecognizable to us. It may be that our laws of physics only occur in a finite area – a bubble, if you will, in an ocean of other possibilities.”
-- EDI
The year is 3156 CE. Nearly a millennia ago, The Reapers, an ancient synthetic race, began their attempted destruction of all space-faring life in the galaxy. Their efforts were stopped by the combined forces of life, and the Crucible, a weapon of mass destruction nearly as ancient as the Reapers themselves. According to the story, Lieutenant Commander Shepard of the Systems Alliance rallied together support from all space-faring worlds, amassing the largest army in all recorded history to complete the construction of the Crucible and end the Reaper threat. The Citadel holds that the team of scientists working on the crucible collectively fired the weapon and destroyed all Reaper units. The units were studied, discarded to far reaches of the system, and the Reapers were no more. But, that may not be the whole truth… Some say that the Citadel actually paid high price to destroy the Reapers, and works hard to conceal the evidence. The Conspiracy Accountability League has made efforts for years to uncover some kind of plot. Then there is Shephard’s Flock, a neo-religious movement that holds that Commander Shephard fired the Crucible not to destroy the Reapers, but control them. He helped the galaxy begin to rebuild after the war, gave them the Reaper data, and then mobilized the units to protect us from some far off, unseen enemy. Whatever the case may be, one thing is certain: the Reapers may have been defeated, but the galaxy is far from free of threats.
With the genophage cured, the Krogran are beginning to become a problem once again. Though their government was reformed, due to females demanding their rightful place before having children, their numbers are increasing dramatically, and they have already taken several worlds to call their own by force. The Yahg have also entered the galactic scene, become space-faring and wreaking havoc on the non-citadel worlds, seeking dominance. Yahg ships are beginning to enter and harass Citadel space. And the threat of the Leviathan also looms overhead. Though they haven’t been heard from in centuries, some fear that their knowledge of indoctrination will be the downfall of all sentient life.
But amidst it all, the Citadel still teems with life. People of all races, alliances, and organizations move back and forth going about their daily lives, duties, and exploits. One such organization, the ExoGeni corporation, is reeling these people in by providing jobs. ExoGeni specializes in planetary exploration and colonization, and therefore requires employees of all kinds and trades. Bodyguards and Mercs, scientists, business entrepreneurs, reporters, anyone and everyone is welcome to apply. ExoGeni hopes to use this new civilian team to begin exploration and colonization of the Sentry Omega system, thanks to new Citadel funding. Of course, funding was only procured when ExoGeni assured that the Citadel would not be held reliable. You’ve heard about the ExoGeni corporation, and how even though some of their business is shady, they pay their employees extremely well on relatively high-risk exploration ventures. It wouldn’t be bad idea to apply…
And this is where our RP will begin. You are an individual of any race, background, and talent, and you are applying to help the ExoGeni corp’s endeavor. Of course, we will have other backstories for members who wish to apply later. So, without further ado, the details.
This RP will take place in the universe of the Mass Effect* games by Bioware*. Therefore, we greatly encourage having played at least one of the Mass Effect trilogy games before Roleplaying here, but it is not required. However, if you have not played the games, I recommend reading through the Codex articles on the Mass Effect wiki. http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Codex
And since the RP also takes place some millenia after the events of Mass Effect 3, certain things have changed: Recent Events:
The Yahg have entered the galactic scene, becoming space-faring
The Quarians retook their homeworld of Rannoch, having defeated the Geth during the Reaper war
The Geth have subsequently become endagered greatly, not seen or heard from
The Krogan Genophage was cured, allowing Krogans to reproduce normally once again
The Volus now hold a seat on the Citadel Council
Artificial Intelligence has now become strictly illegal as per Council law. This is actively enforced. AI programming has become feared because of the Reaper war.
Most worlds have almost fully recovered from the Reaper war, practically finished rebuilding nations and cultures.
Cerberus is still active, but very underground and thought derelict by the general public
The Blasto series of vids is still freaking going on.
There is a religious movement called "Shephard's Flock" that believes Shephard is controlling the Reapers and protecting us from unseen enemies. They worship the Reapers, their priests (called Commanders) dress in Reaper-like robes, and they regard Shephard's Normandy crew as holy saints.
The Conspiracy Accountability League has grown in popularity and funding, now with agents attempting to infiltrate the Citadel and other possibly conspiring corporations. (Including ExoGeni)
Playable races:
Human - Humans, from the planet Earth, are the newest sentient species of notable size to enter the galactic stage and are the most rapidly expanding and developing. They independently discovered a Prothean data cache on Mars in 2148, and the mass relay networks shortly thereafter. http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Human
Asari - A mono-gender race, the asari are distinctly feminine in appearance and possess maternal instincts. Their unique physiology, expressed in a millennia-long lifespan and the ability to reproduce with a partner of any gender or species, gives them a conservative yet convivial attitude toward other races. Favoring compromise and cooperation over conflict, the asari were instrumental in proposing and founding the Citadel Council and have been at the heart of galactic society ever since. http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Asari
Salarian - Salarians possess a hyperactive metabolism; they think fast, talk fast, and move fast. To salarians, other species seem sluggish and dull-witted, especially the elcor. Unfortunately, their metabolic speed leaves them with a relatively short lifespan; salarians over the age of 40 are a rarity. Salarians are known for their observational capability and non-linear thinking. This manifests as an aptitude for research and espionage. http://masseffect.wi...m/wiki/Salarian
Turian - Originally from the planet Palaven, turians are best known for their military role, particularly their contributions of soldiers and starships to the Citadel Fleet. They are respected for their public service ethic—it was the turians who first proposed creating C-Sec—but are sometimes seen as imperialist or rigid by other races. There is some animosity between turians and humans, largely due to the turian role in the First Contact War. This bitterness is slowly beginning to heal—as shown by the cooperation of the two races on the construction of the SSV Normandy—but many turians still resent humans, and vice versa. http://masseffect.wi...com/wiki/Turian
Volus - The volus are an associate race on the Citadel with their own embassy, but are also a client race of the turians. They hail from Irune, which possesses a high-pressure greenhouse atmosphere able to support an ammonia-based biochemistry. As a result, the volus must wear pressure suits and breathers when dealing with other species. Because they are not physically adept compared to most species, volus mostly make their influence felt through trade and commerce, and they have a long history on the Citadel. http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Volus
Elcor - The elcor are a Citadel species native to the high-gravity world Dekuuna. They are massive creatures, standing on four muscular legs for increased stability. Elcor move slowly, an evolved response to an environment where a fall can be lethal. This has colored their psychology, making them deliberate and conservative. http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Elcor
Hanar - The hanar are a species resembling Earth's jellyfish and are one of the few non-bipedal Citadel races. Hanar are known for their intense politeness when speaking, and their strong religious beliefs regarding the Protheans, whom they refer to as "the Enkindlers". http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Hanar
Drell - The drell are a reptile-like race that were rescued from their dying homeworld by the hanar following first contact between the two. Since then, the drell have remained loyal to the hanar for their camaraderie and have fit comfortably into galactic civilization. http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Drell
Krogan - The krogan are a species of large reptilian bipeds native to the planet Tuchanka, a world known for its harsh environments, scarce resources, and overabundance of vicious predators. The krogan managed to not only survive on their unforgiving homeworld, but actually thrived in the extreme conditions. http://masseffect.wi...com/wiki/Krogan
Batarian - A race of four-eyed bipeds native to the world of Khar'shan, the batarians are a disreputable species that chose to isolate itself from the rest of the galaxy. The Terminus Systems are infested with batarian pirate gangs and slaving rings, fueling the stereotype of the batarian thug. It should be noted that these criminals do not represent average citizens, who are forbidden to leave batarian space by their ubiquitous and paranoid government. http://masseffect.wi...m/wiki/Batarian
Quarian - The quarians are a species of humanoid aliens known for their skills with technology and synthetic intelligence. Since their homeworld Rannoch was retaken from the geth, the quarians have been rebuilding their society, learning to live on a planet's surface and regaining their culture from the ground up. http://masseffect.wi...om/wiki/Quarian
Yahg - The yahg are a sentient race of towering humanoids native to the world of Parnack, known for their violent and aggressive nature. Consummate predators, the yahg possess unrivaled perceptiveness and mental adaptability. Discovered by the Citadel Council in 2125 CE, the yahg were unceremoniously barred from interaction with Citadel space after massacring the Council's delegation. http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Yahg
Vorcha - Known for their unique biology and aggressive behavior, the vorcha of Heshtok are a primitive race that live among the galaxy's darker and more dangerous locations, such as Omega. Many vorcha are trained by the krogan Blood Pack as mercenaries due to their savage nature and adaptability to different environments. The rest of galactic civilization regards them as pests and scavengers, and their presence is generally seen as a blight. http://masseffect.wi...com/wiki/Vorcha
Abilities:
The Mass Effect games has a nifty class specialization in place that I do not intend to change. This has nothing to do with your app or character, but will help those who are not fluent in Mass Effect to create a character. You can be skilled at combat, tech, or biotics (see http://masseffect.wi...om/wiki/Biotics). You cannot be skilled at all three, and being skilled in two means being less skilled in the on area someone else focuses on. Keep this in mind when creating your character, and do not limit yourself by the game’s classes, because that is not being creative. Some characters may have no need for skills in any of those areas.
RULES:
1. This will be geared for intermediate-experienced RPers. Our standards are our standards, please do not whine about them, simply find a RP that is geared more for your preference. Thank you.
2. The aforementioned standards will require a lot of in-depth writing on your part; so obviously, no one-liners. Be thorough and detailed with every post. I don’t like imposing length restrictions, but sometimes it is necessary, so a paragraph is the minimum for each post.
3. Proper grammar and spelling is a must. Obviously, everyone makes mistakes, but if your grammar is troubled (by either English not being your first or best language, education, or simply you), you may be asked to leave the Roleplay. And we will probably kill your character. Gorily.
4. Metagaming and Powergaming are never tolerated, and can result in removal from the RP. Again, in gory IC death fashion. If you are unaware of the meaning of these terms, this may not be the Roleplay for you. Be mindful that RP is not about winning, but storytelling.
5. In addition to Metagaming and Powergaming, be careful that your character is realistic (for Mass Effect, anyway.) Not everyone is an indestructible powerhouse like John Shephard. You must have weaknesses as well as strengths.
6. This is the OOC thread. Post OOC comments here, and please refrain as much as possible from posting OOC on the IC thread. If you absolutely must post in OOC on the IC thread, please use denotation such as “(( ))”, “[[ ]]”, or “OOC: “
7. This RP takes place in the universe of the Mass Effect game series. As such, be sure to include the word Bioware in the "other" section of your application. This is that fun little gimmick to make sure you’ve at least glanced at the rules.
8. If you have yet to be accepted, please do not post in the IC thread. That would be considered a disruption of our RP.
9. Excessive language, flaming, trolling, or hate speech of any kind in OOC will not be tolerated. If it is IC, be mindful of other players. We do, however, encourage a more mature audience, since Mass Effect is a game restricted to players above the age of 17 anyway.
10. If you would like to a moderator of this RP, please PM me.
11. Creativity is a must.
12. Having fun is also a must.
And finally, the Character Sheet Name: (Be sure this fits your race. See below for more info) Age: (Also be sure this fits your race) Gender: (Any. Gender preference not necessary to denote) Race: (Choose only from the list above) Appearance: (Includes physical description and clothing/armor. Pictures will not suffice. Be as detailed as possible. For more information on armor, see http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Armor. Weapons/Equipment: (Includes all carried weapons for soldier type characters and all equipment for civilians, including cameras, medical, technical, etc. Keep in mind that every character must have an omni-tool. For more information, see these articles on weapons : http://masseffect.wi...om/wiki/Weapons and technology: http://masseffect.wi...odex/Technology) Background: (This is your character’s history up until this point. Be as detailed as possible, two paragraphs is preferred. Be sure to include how you got to the Citadel (unless you were born there) and how you heard about and applied for ExoGeni corp.) Other: (Please include any further information you would like to add about your character, or any comments/suggestions for me or staff.)
Naming your character:
To be sure your character’s name fits his background, you could go to the respective race page on the Mass Effect wiki, look up other character’s name, and get creative or steal a name from an existing character or planet in their system. Or, you can use my nifty little tool, using someone else’s nifty little tool. Copy the text inside the spoiler of your race, and paste it in the big box at the following url: http://www.risusmonk...etta-stone.html (be sure to delete the existing text!). Then, simply type your name or a significant word into the little box, and PRESTO! You have just generated a name that sounds just like the race’s language. This is NOT necessary or required. Just fun.
Barla Von Din Korlack Doran Han Olar Jahleed Pitne For Irune Boro Daleon Maskawa Patavig Talis Fia Zada Ban volus vol Lenos Yila Sahime Usra Dao Dolo Aru Cherk Sab Doldit Jak Ser Locil
*Mass Effect, the Mass Effect logo, and any and all Mass Effect related images and items are copyrights or trademarks of Bioware, or their respective copyright or trademark holders. "Enough Energy RP" is not affiliated with or endorsed by Bioware, or any of the respective copyright or trademark holders mentioned above. “Enough Energy RP” is a non-profit roleplay experience intended for entertainment purposes only.
I regret to inform the followers of this topic that Fallout: Old World Blues will not be returning to the internet scheme. I still have 1, possibly 2, more year(s) of college to attend, and I simply will not have the time while there or during the summer to pick up this project. Much about Minecraft has changed in my absence, and many of our plugins are now defunct, leaving this project more of an effort to keep alive than scrap.
However, there exists a glimmer of hope in these dark times. F:OWB was simply too amazing. I loved running the server, its easily one of the fondest memories I've ever had. So I don't think I'm done running RP servers. In the year(s) to come, I will in fact be starting up another Roleplay server. Will it be as large in scale? Will staff start again with me? Will it be as in-depth? These questions cannot be answered at the current time. However, I can answer that it will not be Fallout themed, unfortunately.
The bad news is, of course, this will be a long while from now. Many of you may lose interest in this or in MC altogether. But if you stick around, you will indeed see this come back. I've got nothing but positive reviews of my server from all of you (save literally 2 people that ever thought I was doing a bad job) and I know that if I attempt this again, taking more time to plan and correct the errors of OWB, I'll be onto something pretty freaking sweet. It is my sincerest hope that you all join me in this endeavor. (the easiest way would be to add me on Skype, since I will likely be keeping up any information there.)
So as of now, farewell. And by farewell, I mean find me on some other RP servers, or on the Forum Roleplay section where I'm planning on starting an RP, or talk to me on here, skype, or FB or something. The only real farewell is to the OWB server itself, which is inanimate, and therefore incapable of hearing my saddened pleas. But in all seriousness, thank you all for making this experience something incredible. I love each and every one of you, my children. My children who I bled and sweat and cried over, painstakingly attempting to provide the best Fallout RP experience possible. I hope that you, my children, Will support in this new RP endeavor. Which may or not contain a zombie outbreak. Thank you.
~C_M
IGN: broken_sky Age: 19 Why us?: I've been looking for a dedicated RP server that I could join for those late summer nights when I've nothing to do, but being a seasoned roleplayer, nothing quite stood up to my standards and expectations. Except you. ;D
Have you voted for us at Planet Minecraft?: Indeed Define Role-Playing in your words: Roleplaying is an art form. It is collaborative storytelling at its best. It is stretching the English language to its limits in the realm of creativity, developing a persona and interacting with other personalities to produce a brilliantly entertaining work of fiction. And it's hella fun. Define Meta-gaming in your words: Metagaming is taking knowledge you received OOC and using it IC. So it's basically like looking up how to finish an LoZ dungeon online. Which is cheating. Which is illegal in 7 countries. Define Power-gaming in your words: Powergaming is when a gamer basically performs an RP action that is far outside of the realm of realistic possibility. Like dodging everything and killing everyone.
IC:
Name: Fortis Virdeum Nickname: (Optional) Fort Age: 21 Gender: Male Race: Imperial Appearance: Fortis is rather short for an Imperial, with a young face to match. He keeps his hair and beard shaved short. He favors light clothing and armor, namely leather, and carries twin steel daggers. Personality: Fort is a lover before he is a fighter. Of Nibenean blood, he has always had an affinity for culture. He has a way with words and is very studious and knowledgeable, yet still rather reserved around others; out of insecurity more than humility. He is naturally even-tempered, but has it what it takes to do what needs to be done, should the situation arise. In-game RP Fight example: (Include dialog)
"Please, by The Nine! Just let me go!"
Fortis tried with all of his might to wriggle free of the bounty hunter's grasp, but to no avail. He was too small and too weak for the brute of a man who held him in headlock, ready to crush his windpipe at a moment's notice.
"Do you have any idea how many Septims are being paid for your head?" The cruel man let out a satisfied chuckle. "Just give up, lad. You'll see the Nine yourself in a bit, just make my job easier and hold still."
It was clear that the hunter was attempting to execute Fortis is some specified manner, but he would have none of it. He continued to put up a struggle, and pleaded with the bounty hunter,
"I don't want to hurt you, just let me go!"
The man laughed again, louder and harder this time, bellowing out in humor. "Oh, that's rich, lad. You can't even come up for air, how in Oblivion do you plan on doing anything at all?"
With a downcast face, Fortis stopped struggling, and whispered under his breath as light began to softly emanate from his right hand.
"...like this..."
As quick as lightning, Fortis threw his hand into the air, and cast a spell beside himself. Conjuration magic, which he had studied years ago, came to his aid in the form of a familiar, which pounced the bounty hunter and freed Fortis from his hold. Wasting no time at all, Fortis tapped into his magicka again, and both his hands began to glow.
The bounty hunter wrestled free of the spirit wolf and drew his war axe, deftly and skillfully hacking at the creature, sending it back to the Oblivion from whence it came. Enraged, he turned to his target, Fortis Virdeum...but suddenly felt him a target no more. In fact, his rage subsided as quickly as it came about. He knew that Fortis was his target but suddenly had no desire to fight him, sheathing his axe.
These were the effects of that spell, Pacify, which Fortis had just cast. With a look of pain upon his face, he withdrew his twin daggers from his side and walked up to the bounty hunter, staring him in the eyes.
"I'm sorry."
Were his words as he plunged the cold steel into the gaps of the hunter's armor, tearing the flesh and piercing the delicate innards inside. The hunter's rage returned, but too late; the cold hand of death was already stretching out over him.
"...no need...to be sorry...lad..." the brute sputtered between gasps for air and heaves of blood, "...you've...bested...me..."
"I wasn't talking to you," Fortis said, clenching his teeth. He pulled back his blades, releasing the floodgates of blood they held back, and the bounty hunter dropped to his knees in silence, awaiting Aetherius.
"I'm sorry, Dea."
Background (I know you said two paragraphs, I'm sorry.): Fortis was born in Cyrodil, in the town of Chorrol by the great forest. He was raised by a priest and priestess, and was religious from an early age, worshiping Stendarr in the town's chapel. Even when he was young, he had a desire and drive for culture, and applied himself to book study and art. Magic fascinated him, and he took to learning from the chapel's healer. This, however, was not enough for him, and into his teenage years he applied himself to learning other various forms of magic. His talents did not go unnoticed, and before long he was approached by the Vigilants of Stendarr, the Keepers of the Vigil and Stendarr's mercy. He was recruiting into their ranks, and left home behind. He was positioned as a field guide of sorts for other Vigilants. He was not very skilled in combat, so assisted with knowledge of mythology, lore, and magic, and provided healing and wards for the other Vigilants. They traveled Cyrodil seeking out witches, vampires, werewolves, and even men who held tightly to that which was Daedric. And while he learned to abhor these things as Stendarr did, his psyche was always all the more intrigued by this forbidden knowledge with each passing hunt. In secret he continued to study darker forms of magic, the magic of the Daedra that made such fell beasts and artifacts.
And then he met Dea. Dea Tarin was another Vigilant quickly ascending in the ranks, a Dunmer and a skilled combatant. She was assigned to his patrol, and she fell for his charm as he fell for her beauty. The two were in such vibrant love that the other Vigilants said nothing to the Keeper. But as they were allowed to grow close, Fortis' dark secret was revealed. Dea uncovered his study as she spent the night in his quarters, and was appalled at the detailed and enthralled notes he had written on the Daedra. Her love for him was strong, but she was heartbroken, and would see him no more until his sickening fascination was addressed. He was convicted and sought out the Keeper of the Vigil, who pulled him from the field. Which would change his life forever. It so happened that on the very next field assignment, the Vigilants would stand against a Daedra itself, and the team was all but massacred. In a heroic effort, Dea had given her life. Enraged and full of sorrow, Fortis burned his study, and vowed to stay as far away from magic as he could, in honor of his lost love.
And so he fled Cyrodil. He wanted, and needed, to get as far away from the place as possible. And what place could be farther than off of Tamriel itself. He fled to Akavir, to the Thanefall, where he could use his talents to continue to hunt the Daedric monsters that prowl the dark. Though they would not be his only foe. The Tarin household would hire mercenaries to track down the man they held responsible for her death, and Fortis would be forced to fight or die. If, perhaps, the Vigilants would see a need to start a chapter in Thanefall, he could prove his worth and clear his name. Perhaps he would seek to do that very thing..
Well I am officially back in the U.S. Broken if you need my help my skype is Huynop incase if you forgot and what is the current progress on Guns ( What I used to do).
MAn not agin this happened the last time i applied to an rp server............
I'm terribly sorry then. Unfortunately, my hands are tied. The staff simply doesnt have the time. When we did, we didnt have adequate staff, so it was an all around sluggish progression. Hopefully this leisure time away from RP helps us focus on builds, plugins, and other features, so the next time RP is open it is an even better experience.
And yea, its up now. Though new apps prolly wont go through since it will be down soon, members can enjoy a few days of RP and complete intolerance against BS.
Name: Nikolai Age: 27 Gender: male Appearance: He wears a suit of power armor he found from an old bunker. He has dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. A bit of a 5 o'clock shadow. Personality: Nice and well going. But well disciplined. Background:Nikolai was born in one of the vaults, remaining there until he was about 7. A week before his 8th birthday, the Vault Dwellers of his vault, began to repent and kill all vault security, including the Overseer. The vault was overrun, and he was the only one left in there who was alive. He read documents in books and terminals, checking for any ways he can to learn about medicine so he can help his father, who was severely damaged during the raid. Sadly, he couldn't rescue his father in time. Nick stayed in the vault until he was eight. He came across a traveling BoS scout looking for technology and areas of intrest. The Brotherhood of Steel member kept Nick as his own, training him for seventeen more years. Being more interested in battle,rather than writing, he was a paladin in the BoS fleet.
The story ends up where they are deciding a new elder.
it seems like my app has been forgotten which were going to been sent to broken from willhellm and i haven't received the answer yet. so i will send it again and hopefully i'll get an answer this time.
ign: christian9977
source: google
why us: this server sounds amazing and i have wanted for a long time to play on a rp server
RP Experience: i have't played on a rp server before because i couldn't find any that looks good. But i have played the elder scrolls, fallout and diablo
IC --------------- name: chris Howard age: 24: gender: male Appearance: 1.74 m, black hair, brown eyes, Caucasian skin, scar across the left eye which cussed his left eye to go blind, wears a dirty brown leather duster over a harden leather armor. personalty: Chris is more of a lone wolf but doesn't have anything against some company he also tends to trust almost anyone he meets on his travels that looks like a nice person but put his hand on the revolver when he spot someone, he's kind most of the time but ain't afraid to kill if he need to
background: HIDEBARKS
I'll look over this when I can. Please bear with me.
hey when dose one find out if their application is accepted?
It will take some time. Especially now following the announcement below.
Hello Wastelanders, Important Announcement
As you all know, I have college to attend in september. Sort of. To clarify, its a christian ministry training program for nine months that encompasses college credits from a seminary school and various charity works. Aka, Ima be super busy. This, coupled with Phantom heading to school and Will still working 12 hours a day, we've decided in its everyone's best interest to keep the server down for RP. It will be up for builds and other development, and we'll compile a list of things to do for everyone who wants to help. The staff application thread is in my signature. This downtime will likely endure sometime within the next 2 weeks until my winter break somewhere in december. From that point on, we can weigh how much work still needs to be done and how much staff we have, and decide whether or not to reopen for RP. I'm sure this will drive some of you crazy, but in the long run, it will be worth it. At least, it will be if we have the support. I'll continue to pay for the server's uptime, but if I see that we're not getting the work done we should be, I'll have to stop paying. It isn't cheap, and I have to support myself on a meager weekly sum of money. But I hope you will all support our efforts 8 months in the making and help us bring OWB all the way through to the end. I will be working on getting all necessary changes to this thread and the site when I can, so stay tuned over the next few days. Thank you all.
[u][b]OOC[/b][/u] IGN: Darkpieguy Source(s): Played on server WhyUs?: Re-roll! RP Experience: I had another character [u][b]IC[/b][/u] Name: James Lopez Age: 23 Gender: Male Appearance: Dark hair, medium length , Green eyes, Medium height. Followers jacket and black undershirt. Personality: Supports Medicine and Scientific arts, caring, wishes the best for the people of freeside. Background: James's parents were born in the Boneyard and grew up there, learning to respect the NCR. Neither of them were fighters nor were they Scientists. They both Joined the followers and met there. Years later, James was born in the Boneyard. When they heard the Mojave area of the NCR needed assistance they moved out there with baby James and settled in Old Mormon Fort in freeside shortly after. James grew up learning Science, reading, writing, and medicine from his parents. There were many kinds of people in the fort that taught him different things, he learned Medicine from his parents, Science and robot technology from the Martimer's. He was able to fix small injuries at even a young age. When he was 19 and worked full time as a follower doctor his parents were helping wounded freesiders in outer freeside when they were killed in a crossfire between the NCR and some kings.
After the death of his parents, James's determination grew even stronger than it was before. He wanted to make Freeside the best place it can be. He helped in any way he could, even if it was staying in the labs to help make fixer and medicines. He always took the most dangerous jobs if it meant potentially saving another followers life. He ended taking more care for the Freeside citizens than himself, letting his normally slow - growing hair grow long, and his cloths dirty. After 4 years with the followers he had come to the conclusion that the NCR was hurting Freeside more than they were helping it. He helped several other freesiders attempt to get the NCR out of freeside to no avail, even when they directly assaulted citizens. He has come to dislike the House's current leader Johnson, because of him enabling people into addiction and alcoholism. He is currently busy working inside Mormon fort creating meds to help people.
OOC
IGN:Somark28
Source(s):Does Minecraft Forums count
Why Us?:This seems well made, and the SPECIAL plugin seems awesome
RP Experience:About 2 servers, and World of Warcraft IC
Name:Marcus Lemer
Age:27
Gender:Male
Appearance:He has mangled black hair that has never been cut. And war medals on his arms. With browned skin and jeans with tears. He has no beard, also he has a large scar on his face from the explosion.
Personality:He is a funny, but serious most of the time. He gets sad or angry easily. His emotions never show until he has had too much and all of his feelings blast out of him.
Background:Baby momma
I like this. Can't say I like your writing style, as its very interrupted, not entirely descriptive, and tends to lack proper use of emphasis...but I'm not here to grade your writing! lol. Its a darn good app, and I'd like to see your character with his unique and interesting history fit into our RP. HOWEVER:
Note: The Special plugin is not ready yet.
Note: http://fallout.wikia.com/wiki/Vault_56
Source(s):Mc:Forums
Why Us?: Have been looking for a fallout Rp Finally found one love fallout n.v have a total of 48 hours one acc not much
RP Experience: Have been roleplaying Faloout for a while now hopefully going to be whitelisted
Name: Gerald Spring
Age: 36
Gender: male
Appearance: Black leather armour with a Milatary helmet
Personality: Chatty,Handy,Likes mechanical stuff easy to get along with thats it really.
Background: Worked as a meachanic for a Posidon energy Gas station but left his job to go adventuring to las vegas
help pepole in his travles but he stayed in a little village in nevada called primm the little las vegas stayed there for years
then the atomic bomb but he found a little shelter and see what happens he didnt die. his parents was killed when he was a child got a adopted by
a nice family but left at 17 cant think of no more sorry
Notice:
The server will be down for the next few days. Guns NEED to be updated to prevent further problems, and we'll be making some much needed changes to factions and other things.
0
----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN: Broken_sky
(this is subject to change. I've had a hack attempt on this account and may be forced out of it eventually.)
-Skype name (Optional, for server OOC chat): grz_art
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example? I do in fact have prior role-play experience; Though I do not know what be a sufficient example. Here's one of the last posts of one of the RPs I was in on these forums some years ago; I doubt my writing has improved much since then.
Tirsen named the plant as he saw it, making sure his memory was still sharp. He bent over and dug his fingers into the soil around the plant, loosening the dirt around the plant's deep roots. He gently pulled it up from the ground; the long, red, subterranean branches that gave the plant its name coming forth. He brushed the plant clean, and gently tucked it into his bag.
Looking up into the sky, Tirsen realized he did not have enough time to continue searching for reagents, so he settled for what he had and began the return into the city.
---------------
"Which way to Leoch's?" Tirsen repeated, over and over; and again again he went unnoticed. The people, either too busy or too racist to give him the time of day, would not answer his simple question. He attempted to read several signs posted in hopes of some direction, but after so long he still did not know how to read well enough to determine what "Leoch" would look like written down. So he continued to ask around, hoping someone would show mercy. In the back of his mind he regretted leaving the city at all; he should have stayed to keep following the man. Tirsen was too embarrassed to have mentioned his lack of literacy to his bandit companions, not that he thought they could read either; but now he was certainly stuck.
Finally, a young boy pointed in the direction of the inn, much against his mother's wishes, who quickly snatched him up and ran off. But Tirsen had enough to work with. He drifted in the general direction of the inn long enough to catch wind of the smell of alcohol, vomit, and sweat. He calmly walked into the establishment and braced himself.
As he expected, the patrons of the bar quieted themselves for a moment, staring at him. Probably wondering what he was doing there, and where the rest of his clothes were. He stood there and stared back at them briefly, then sat himself down where it was empty. He glanced around the room and noticed the man from before, along with lizardmen and that...odd lynxwoman. He decided against approaching them, since they seemed to be amidst conversation. Instead he decided he would wait for his bandit friends and let them do all the talking...if they ever managed to show up.
Just in case they wouldn't, Tirsen went over in his mind ways to prove himself for the man and seem worthy to be taken along in the quest to claim the bounty.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Power-gaming is when someone is behaving "unrealistically" or otherwise uncharacteristically for the purpose of "winning" or achieving their desired goals, instead of allowing events to unfold naturally or realistically. For example, always going for the killing blow in combat, or always being able to avoid capture. It is unrealism for the sake of being right or exceptional. And it's rather childish.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Meta-gaming is using OOC knowledge IC; it is taking information that you, as a player, are aware of and applying it to your character. For example, understanding a language that is not common that your character is not learned in, or using information you read through the Lore that your character would have no real way of knowing.
-Define Role-Playing in your own words: Roleplaying is the nearly lost art of storytelling and character development from multiple authors, each one writing and creating from the vantage of his own character. Like an unscripted play where every actor is a playwright, it is fully adopting the character you have created in a created world, and allowing the genuine interactions between other characters and the world around them to develop into its own unique story and style of gameplay.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Veras Vayrderoth
-Character race: Half-Elf (Human and Dark-Elf)
-Character gender: Male
-Character age: 24
-Character Occupation: Hunter / Poacher (this occupation is a ruse to divert attention)
-Character description: Veras appears more dark-elf than human; his complexion is an almost purplish-grey, his eyes are a reddish brown, and his hair is bleach white. He stands at approximately 5'10, with a thin but lean physique. His humanity manifests itself most innately: he does not possess the same low-light vision or metabolism that his mother had; he is much more like an average man in prowess and ability.
He keeps his hair cut long; not that it is seen often. His typical outfit consists of cloaks and hoods, and very often face masks, to shield his face as much as possible from the elements of magic that mages would hurl at his head to blind or scar. He is always dressed ready for battle, with leather armor, boots, and strappings both light and flexible; with little regard for protection from weather. He retains a sword given to him by his father, used by the elder during his time in the Hunters' Guild, and a bow given him by his mother; a weathered remnant of a time long past.
-Character personality and traits: Veras is a stoic man; hardened by the training and experiences he endured during childhood. His ultimate drive is one of a very skewed perception of justice and religion. He exists to persecute magic. His father, a madman, instilled this in him, and he would show no remorse over the corpse of a mage of any age or race. His hatred is intense and his purpose is clear, but in his own mind, he does all of this out of duty and service to Aderoth; a god usually attributed to healing rather than death. His beliefs are thus cultish and specific to his family (and whatever madmen would believe his words). He is also thus a very religious man, venerating Aderoth and deifying angels. He sees the act of magic persecution as a service to Aderoth, and as a "healing of the land."
Outside of these inexplicable beliefs, however, Veras would not be considered as mad as his father. He is calculating and practical, perhaps, but not without mercy and goodness to others. His strong religious convictions mean that he is kind and generous to the common man, but in the absence of a smile and without a need for thanks. On a personable level, he is reserved, seemingly always focused on his mission. Internally, however, he struggles with doubt; plagued by the memory of his forgotten sister, a mage slain by his brother's hand in the sight of their father. Sometimes, it would appear as though he buries himself in his work and excuses his actions with religion in an attempt to bury her memory.
Lastly, Veras has a love for book-knowledge. He has collected numerous tomes and holy scrolls and will pay dearly for any writings pertaining to Aderoth. He has been known to write himself, though mostly for documentation of his exploits and travels.
-Character biography:
Blood is everything.
In order to understand the man that Veras has become, one must understand the heritage of his blood. It started years ago, with the unheeded march of the Pact. Forced to flee Manadh Calad, a Dark-elven woman sought succor in the city of Barkamsted, a refugee from the raging war. On her way into town she came upon a young human man, shouting on about Hunters and recruitment. She didn't hear his words, only his lovely voice. She often whispered that they two were fated to meet there. He was young and she was forward, and neither of them had care for the stigmas placed upon such relationships; war gives way to recklessness. And unbeknownst to her, he was a man of war and devotion, in service to the Hunter's Guild for which he had become a recruiter; the old men of the Guild wanted a younger face to attract more younger faces, so he never saw real battle, but he was trained in their ways and taught their secrets.
Years passed and battles were waged, and a time came when whispers of the fabled Blighted Weapons reached the Hunters' ears. Whether devotion or madness drove him, none know, but he became so obsessively devout to Aderoth, and to light and purity, that it became this lowly Hunters' self-proclaimed mission to find these artifacts: not for use, but destruction. He began to ramble on upon the evil of the forbidden magic that formed them, and of the evil of all magic (a belief either propagated by his Dark-elf lover, or perhaps the belief that drew him to her). In the last years of his life he shut himself and his lover up in their home, and while they dutifully observed the law they were scarcely seen or heard from again. In seclusion he created his own dichotomy of religion, a cultish understanding of magic as being the antithesis of light and holiness (despite the fact that holy magic exists; a colloquial "grey area" of the madman's own headcanon), and in seclusion he taught this knowledge to his sons.
Veras was not the eldest. His elder brother was Verildar, whom Veras did not truly know. He was given the name Vayderoth, in honor of Aderoth, and instructed in the art of the hunt as his father knew. After Veras was born, he remembers that Verildar would come home many a night with a trinket in hand: the trophy of a different kind of hunt. Veras only understood this truth when his younger sister was born. At a young age, Verildar held some sort of trinket close by her, a ritual that he supposed that both brothers had undergone when they were too young to remember. One by one, a series of trinkets were held to her, and at the last, it glowed and sparked. She had manifested a talent for magic. After a moment of silence, Verildar killed the young girl with his own hands, as their father watched and was made proud. Veras was too young to understand and screamed and cried, but this family-cult assured him that their sister had become an abomination and a blight; the curse of the world. One night soon after Verildar did not come home, and the vigil to Aderoth lasted a week after his death; reportedly at the hands of a master mage.
Veras' duty became all the more clear that day. He has come to understand magic as a blight itself, whether it is used for good or for evil. It alone is the reason for the cracks between hell and earth. Veras has adopted his father's hatred of Bothimir, equaled only by a hatred for Udero who keeps Aderoth and Behmos in balance. Shrines to these "false" gods are desecrated in Veras' sight, as is the life of any would-be mage, as he now travels to and fro seeking to end the lives of the next would-be arcanists, under the guise of a poacher selling game. Veras has sworn an oath by Aderoth to deliver holy and pure justice, whether or not the common folk understand his goals, and to never forget the sacrifice Verildar made to keep the world safe from evil; a sacrifice paid in blood.
Blood is everything.
-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios. (At least one paragraph for each):
You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.
"You rotten little..."
Veras muttered in Elvish under his breath as he realized what had just occurred. Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, he pounced and began to pursue the child through the markets. The chase was natural; instinctive. The prey was different; perish the thought at considering the child such, but in its own way, the cat-and-mouse game they played was its own kind of hunt. Without a second thought, Veras whispered a silent prayer to Perities; not for the grace of truly hunting the boy, but the grace of catching him. Though in his mind he understood that he was simply retrieving his purse, Veras soon began to experience the all-too familiar flashes that came with the chase;
With each step he saw the terrorized faces of young mages, looking back at him in horror as they realized their fate. With each market stand that made wind as he rushed past, he heard the cries of the arcanist as they struggled to conjure some spell to defend themselves with. Suddenly, he was no longer pursuing a young thief. He was the witcher, and the child the monster; he the huntsman, and the child the prey. His eyes narrowed, his stride expanded, his gait quickened as he tightened his limbs and became like a deer galloping through the forest of stalls and stands. And now, he was upon his prize.
He reached forth and snatched the child by his garb, yanking back with enough force to tear the cloth. As the child fell, he spilled the coin in every direction. His eyes met Veras', and a familiar terror his countenance. The child was a young girl. Veras had taken the life of innocence before, though to call a mage innocent was a foreign notion; but never could he bring himself to bring judgement on the young girls. They were too much like...her. The one he lost to evil. The one taken from him, just as he had taken from others in the name of Good. In the eyes of the young thief, Veras saw his sister. Her cold and lifeless corpse staining the ground with the pestilence of magic; her blood redeeming man of sin.
His vision ended, and the child had gone. A crowd gathered as Veras stood motionless over the pile of coin, and a beggar crept ever closer to try and take some for himself. Veras knelt down and gathered what he could before turning to go. To hide.
To forget.
You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.
"And so," Veras muttered in the Elvish tongue, "The mighty hunter becomes the prey."
He knelt down beside the injured creature, and it snarled; unable to discern his motives. Truthfully, he could do no better. He simply did his best to assess; could the creature survive? Probably. But that would require more effort than he had to give. The likelihood is that the creature would die; the mighty hunter felled by man's poor attempt to be like her.
The animal yelped in pain, and the pups around her barked and howled, one of them gnawing at Veras' boot.
"Your time has come, hunter," he whispered to the wolf, "rest from your chase."
With one swift motion he drew his sword and plunged it, with both hands on the hilt, into the creature's eye. It gave a final shriek before curdling, twitching as its nerves reacted to the final moments of death. Immediately, the pups viciously attacked Veras, and he had no choice. He knew that they were but protecting their caretaker, but they were no hunters of their own that they could withstand him, or the wilds of the woods, alone.
With three twists of his wrists, they all lay in the grass, lifeless. Veras carefully undid the bear trap holding the creature's body, and he skinned it for its pelt. He took no pleasure in the act, but saw the befitting cycle represented by hunter and hunted. He slung the fur over his shoulders, saying a prayer to Aderoth to accept the hunters' souls as he carried his earnings into the village. In a way, the she-wolf served a higher purpose. Her skin added to his guise so that his mission could continue unnoticed; and in her own way, she was helping rid the world of its gravest sin.
Or so he convinced himself.
Extra notes (Optional, could include theme songs, pictures, etc.):
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Love this server so far! Once you get used to the systems its really fun!
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OOC:
IGN: broken_sky
Age (Optional): 22
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): grz_art
Time Zone: EST
Prior Bans and reasons: None
Define Role-play: Roleplay is art with words, storytelling with multiple authors, from the vantage of characters within the story. It is not a novel written by one man, but a real interaction between people as they become the characters they have created. Hippie jargon-filled nonsense aside, it’s a game where you are playing from the vantage of a character entirely; not as yourself, but with the reactions and emotions of a well-developed character, as you progress through their life and story.
Define Powergaming: Powergaming, if RP terminology hasn’t changed in the last 5 years, is when in a given situation your character is somehow over- or all- powered. Able to do things that, realistically, would not be able to happen.
Define Metagaming: Metagaming is when, IC, a character behaves with knowledge they cannot know, but that is known by the player or author, OOC. It is being untrue to the development of the character.
Previous roleplay experience: Good God, man. Let’s see. I ran a Fallout Minecraft server back in the day. Called it Old World Blues. Guess there’s no escaping the shadows of the old world, huh? Anyway, I’ve also ran and participated in Forum based RP for many, many years. Like, since I was 13. Been a member of Roleplayer’s Guild and Coloholics Anonymous but always preferred more specific RPs. I’m pretty sure before I went awol I did some RPs on these forums too.
Previous Fallout experience: I’ve played Fallout NV and a little bit of Fallout 3, but I’ve read pretty much every fallout wiki article at least once. I love the Fallout backstory and lore, and Fallout is one of my favorite fandoms like ever.
Have you read the rules?: Yes. Through and through.
Write any further questions here: Is it dumb to submit this when it’s closing Oct 3? D:
IC:
Character Name: Leslie Dobbs
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance (Please include an in-game screenshot of your skin): Leslie is a short but slender girl, with light skin, long, brown hair, and brown eyes.
Strengths: Leslie is incredibly gifted anatomy, virtually memorizing its entire layout and able to aid the body’s healing and ease pain; or, if need be, inflict it in great amounts. Being small, she is also rather agile.
Weaknesses: Leslie is small and weaker, so not of too much use in an actual, drawn out fight. She is also rather inept socially, thanks to her upbringing, and sometimes has epilepsy-like spasms and fits of craziness. All that’s explained, though, I promise it isn’t random.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.:
Strength: 3
Perception: 7
Endurance: 3
Charisma: 7
Intelligence: 9
Agility: 7
Luck: 4
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
All Leslie had ever known, was the vault. Its creaks and groans from wear and tear, its long, echoey hallways, the comforts of its enclosing walls. It was always home.
There was so much about the vault that Leslie loved growing up. She loved the people, always so nice to her. She loved the music that would come over the intercom sometimes. She loved to scavenge for old holotapes and listen to what the world before the vaut was like. She loved to explore all the hidden and forgotten rooms of the vault. She loved to go to the engineering rooms and study them, figure out how they worked. She loved to play with the old computers and make them do funny things around the vault, like activate sprinkles or close doors. And the food, by goodness she loved the food that they would whip up. Sometimes they would have steak, sometimes they would have hamburgers, even. Whatever it was, she knew it was going to be tasty and have meat, and she loved to eat.
But one day she made a mistake, and even though her parents tried to hide and lie about it to her, she always knew. One day she was having a quite delicious order of ham and green beans, when she asked her parents aloud, “So where does all the ham come from?”
Every single person in the room stopped and stared. She heard a young boy snicker, and his father hit him when he did. One of the ladies in the mess hall gave Leslie’s parents an awful glare. It was very clear to everyone that the question should not have been asked.
Her parents tried to make up all sorts of excuses and stories, but Leslie knew. On some level, she had always known. She knew there was no room where plants were grown, no room where animals were kept. There was only the freezer, and she knew that there was no way that the small freezer and storage held enough food for all these years. She had even heard a holotape once explaining how the animals were dying and they didn’t know what to do next. She even knew, even then, that it sort of explained The Crazies that the people sometimes got after eating. What she didn’t know, was how they chose which people to eat.
When she got older, and the stigma of cannibalism was removed, it was revealed to her that there was a drawing. Apparently the drawing was every six months, and several names were drawn. The kitchen would then be responsible for making those people last as long as possible before another name had to be drawn. Once she was older, this was more of a normal occurrence. The children were kept from the idea because it was still thought to be traumatc to some degree, but just like sex, it had to be talked about at some point. And so it became a normal thing. Sometimes people would disappear and everyone would understand their sacrifice. Some tried to forget, but most thanked God in their prayers that they were given more food and more life to live. The few for the many.
Then, one day, the vault opened.
Imagine the hysteria. Scouts came back with stories of plentiful amouns of the things people are supposed to eat; crops and animals. Immediately the vault was divided. Enter this brave new world and find new food sources, or stay here and eat their brethren. Many decided to leave the vault, but those who stayed faced a terrible fate.
No longer was cannibalism a sacrifice neccisary for survival, but a pleasure too deep to forfeit. Pro-cannibals swarmed the Overseers office and the kitchen, and they reveled in their feasts. Abductions were no longer quiet, but open celebrations of human flesh. The victims were bled in public before being taken to the butcher’s room. Anyone who dared interfere was taken next. Some even bragged about how good their meals tasted. Others, like Leslie’s family, would eat in silence, and forever regret not taking the opportunity to leave. Deserters were always served for Dessert.
One day, Leslie’s family sat her down, and explained how they believed they shouldn’t eat people anymore; not like this. They begged her to leave, and they would help her leave and correct their mistakes. She agreed. But sadly, that wouldn’t be the case. Before anything could be done with that plan, the men from the kitchen showed up at their door. The family was dragged out as everyone applauded and cheered. Leslie watched as they used butcher knives to make cuts on her parents’ skin. She could hardly feel it when they cut her, save for the blood streaming down her little arms.
She was twelve years old.
They brought her to the storage room. It was dark, but warm. She thought she would be killed, but the kitchen knew she would have so much more meat on her bones in a few years. They kept her in the storage room by herself. No one that young had ever been kept as a meal before, so she was alone. The chefs would feed her but she wouldn’t eat. She didn’t want to risk eating what was left of her parents. She wanted to honor their choices. Day after day she skipped meals, spending her time scratching enginnering plans and circuit board layouts into the walls, whatever she could remember. Time passed so slowly in there, or was it passing by fast?
Eventually, she had to eat. She was so hungry, starving. She felt like her stomach would implode if she didn’t. She sank her teeth into the juicy red meat, revelling in its satisfaction. But amidst the meat was something hard and cold, too cold to be bone.
It was a ring. A wedding ring. Her mothers.
She kept eating.
Her ghoulishness impressed the kitchen. She was allowed to leave the storage room to go to the freezer, and the place they cut the meat. With each passing day, she spent more time outside. Sometimes the butcher would allow her to watch the killing process. “You bleed them dry first. Alive.” The butcher would say. Time and time again she would watch these men kill the inhabitants of the vault, she watch as they were dissected, the good parts kept, the bad parts thrown away.
And one day it changed again. Heroes from the wasteland, the deserters of the vault and those joining the cause, stormed the vault, freeing inhabitants and ending perpetrators. They killed the butcher and the men in the kitchen and took Leslie away. Away from the vault and the storage room she called home. They took her away but she didn’t want to go. When they left the vault she ran from them. Because
All Leslie had ever known, was the vault. Its creaks and groans from wear and tear, its long, echoey hallways, the comforts of its enclosing walls. It was always home.
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?: (this is all under the pretense that my radio is not two-way)
Leslie ran over to the injured guard, fumbling for her own pistol as she did.
“Look, I’m just gonna help you, okay? But no sudden movements!” she screamed.
She then dropped her gun and reached for the First Aid Kit, trying desperately to patch the man as he faded in and out of consciousness. She had just enough gauze to cover most of the woudn, and she took off her outer shirt and tied it around the man’s leg, hoping to stop some of the bleeding.
She surveyed her surroundings. She couldn’t believe that the raiders wouldn’t take the bodies for food. She was only just beginning to understand just how deep a crime cannibalism was to everyone outside the vault. Not even the criminals ate people.
The man she was attempting to tend to collapsed completely. She had done what she could to stop the bleeding, but knew that the men needed desperate medical attention. A doctor’s bag would have what she needed to clean and cover the wound. She moved to the caravan, half hoping to find something to help the man, half hoping to find supplies for herself.. She scavenged for all the items she could, then looked at the body of the other guard. Blood was still fresh. Wounds needed to be cleaned, but still…
After a bit more scavenging, and resolving that the merchant was also very dead, she woke up the first guard by injecting a stimpak into his thigh. The resulting speed in blood pressure snapped him back into a groggy consciousness. Leslie helped the man to his leg and began to hobble away from the caravan with him.
“…cara…caravan…” he mumbled.
“Don’t worry,” she said as she patted her now blood-soaked bag. “We won’t forget their sacrifice.”
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Name: broken_sky
Age: 22
Applying for: GFX Artist
Experience(*): Well, I'm the lead Media Designer for my previous school, which includes Graphic Design, T-Shirt Design, Web Design, and Marketing Design. I also do web and graphic design for 3 other small businesses. I will gladly give links to all of these if you are interested but I can't post them here for liability's sake. (aka, don't want them to see me using their companies to land a job that revolves around a video game past time.)
Personality: Well, people tell me I'm sarcastic. So that's a thing. I love humor, but I hate comedy, if that tells you anything about me. I assume I'm pretty chill to work with, but then again, I'm a little biased here, aren't I? I'm 22, paid decently, taking classes, and I still play video games, so that says a lot about my maturity I guess.
Skype address: grz_art
Images of Past Work or a link to a Portfolio: (1GB Attachment limit is killing me)
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Love the look of this project! Unfortunately, I am neither an experienced builder nor good with plugins (anymore, the internets develop too fast for me to keep up.) But love what you're doing and hope to be a part of it! I can offer services as a graphic designer, skin / texture artist, or lore writer if you have need for any of those. But all in all, totally support this!
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“It has been speculated that if you went far enough out, or created enough energy, you could reach a place where one plus one equaled three. Everything would change. All energy, all matter, all the underlying math of the universe would be unrecognizable to us. It may be that our laws of physics only occur in a finite area – a bubble, if you will, in an ocean of other possibilities.”
-- EDI
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The year is 3156 CE. Nearly a millennia ago, The Reapers, an ancient synthetic race, began their attempted destruction of all space-faring life in the galaxy. Their efforts were stopped by the combined forces of life, and the Crucible, a weapon of mass destruction nearly as ancient as the Reapers themselves. According to the story, Lieutenant Commander Shepard of the Systems Alliance rallied together support from all space-faring worlds, amassing the largest army in all recorded history to complete the construction of the Crucible and end the Reaper threat. The Citadel holds that the team of scientists working on the crucible collectively fired the weapon and destroyed all Reaper units. The units were studied, discarded to far reaches of the system, and the Reapers were no more. But, that may not be the whole truth…
Some say that the Citadel actually paid high price to destroy the Reapers, and works hard to conceal the evidence. The Conspiracy Accountability League has made efforts for years to uncover some kind of plot. Then there is Shephard’s Flock, a neo-religious movement that holds that Commander Shephard fired the Crucible not to destroy the Reapers, but control them. He helped the galaxy begin to rebuild after the war, gave them the Reaper data, and then mobilized the units to protect us from some far off, unseen enemy. Whatever the case may be, one thing is certain: the Reapers may have been defeated, but the galaxy is far from free of threats.
With the genophage cured, the Krogran are beginning to become a problem once again. Though their government was reformed, due to females demanding their rightful place before having children, their numbers are increasing dramatically, and they have already taken several worlds to call their own by force. The Yahg have also entered the galactic scene, become space-faring and wreaking havoc on the non-citadel worlds, seeking dominance. Yahg ships are beginning to enter and harass Citadel space. And the threat of the Leviathan also looms overhead. Though they haven’t been heard from in centuries, some fear that their knowledge of indoctrination will be the downfall of all sentient life.
But amidst it all, the Citadel still teems with life. People of all races, alliances, and organizations move back and forth going about their daily lives, duties, and exploits. One such organization, the ExoGeni corporation, is reeling these people in by providing jobs. ExoGeni specializes in planetary exploration and colonization, and therefore requires employees of all kinds and trades. Bodyguards and Mercs, scientists, business entrepreneurs, reporters, anyone and everyone is welcome to apply. ExoGeni hopes to use this new civilian team to begin exploration and colonization of the Sentry Omega system, thanks to new Citadel funding. Of course, funding was only procured when ExoGeni assured that the Citadel would not be held reliable. You’ve heard about the ExoGeni corporation, and how even though some of their business is shady, they pay their employees extremely well on relatively high-risk exploration ventures. It wouldn’t be bad idea to apply…
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And this is where our RP will begin. You are an individual of any race, background, and talent, and you are applying to help the ExoGeni corp’s endeavor. Of course, we will have other backstories for members who wish to apply later. So, without further ado, the details.
This RP will take place in the universe of the Mass Effect* games by Bioware*. Therefore, we greatly encourage having played at least one of the Mass Effect trilogy games before Roleplaying here, but it is not required. However, if you have not played the games, I recommend reading through the Codex articles on the Mass Effect wiki. http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Codex
And since the RP also takes place some millenia after the events of Mass Effect 3, certain things have changed:
Recent Events:
Playable races:
Human - Humans, from the planet Earth, are the newest sentient species of notable size to enter the galactic stage and are the most rapidly expanding and developing. They independently discovered a Prothean data cache on Mars in 2148, and the mass relay networks shortly thereafter.
http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Human
Asari - A mono-gender race, the asari are distinctly feminine in appearance and possess maternal instincts. Their unique physiology, expressed in a millennia-long lifespan and the ability to reproduce with a partner of any gender or species, gives them a conservative yet convivial attitude toward other races. Favoring compromise and cooperation over conflict, the asari were instrumental in proposing and founding the Citadel Council and have been at the heart of galactic society ever since.
http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Asari
Salarian - Salarians possess a hyperactive metabolism; they think fast, talk fast, and move fast. To salarians, other species seem sluggish and dull-witted, especially the elcor. Unfortunately, their metabolic speed leaves them with a relatively short lifespan; salarians over the age of 40 are a rarity. Salarians are known for their observational capability and non-linear thinking. This manifests as an aptitude for research and espionage.
http://masseffect.wi...m/wiki/Salarian
Turian - Originally from the planet Palaven, turians are best known for their military role, particularly their contributions of soldiers and starships to the Citadel Fleet. They are respected for their public service ethic—it was the turians who first proposed creating C-Sec—but are sometimes seen as imperialist or rigid by other races. There is some animosity between turians and humans, largely due to the turian role in the First Contact War. This bitterness is slowly beginning to heal—as shown by the cooperation of the two races on the construction of the SSV Normandy—but many turians still resent humans, and vice versa.
http://masseffect.wi...com/wiki/Turian
Volus - The volus are an associate race on the Citadel with their own embassy, but are also a client race of the turians. They hail from Irune, which possesses a high-pressure greenhouse atmosphere able to support an ammonia-based biochemistry. As a result, the volus must wear pressure suits and breathers when dealing with other species. Because they are not physically adept compared to most species, volus mostly make their influence felt through trade and commerce, and they have a long history on the Citadel.
http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Volus
Elcor - The elcor are a Citadel species native to the high-gravity world Dekuuna. They are massive creatures, standing on four muscular legs for increased stability. Elcor move slowly, an evolved response to an environment where a fall can be lethal. This has colored their psychology, making them deliberate and conservative.
http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Elcor
Hanar - The hanar are a species resembling Earth's jellyfish and are one of the few non-bipedal Citadel races. Hanar are known for their intense politeness when speaking, and their strong religious beliefs regarding the Protheans, whom they refer to as "the Enkindlers".
http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Hanar
Drell - The drell are a reptile-like race that were rescued from their dying homeworld by the hanar following first contact between the two. Since then, the drell have remained loyal to the hanar for their camaraderie and have fit comfortably into galactic civilization.
http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Drell
Krogan - The krogan are a species of large reptilian bipeds native to the planet Tuchanka, a world known for its harsh environments, scarce resources, and overabundance of vicious predators. The krogan managed to not only survive on their unforgiving homeworld, but actually thrived in the extreme conditions.
http://masseffect.wi...com/wiki/Krogan
Batarian - A race of four-eyed bipeds native to the world of Khar'shan, the batarians are a disreputable species that chose to isolate itself from the rest of the galaxy. The Terminus Systems are infested with batarian pirate gangs and slaving rings, fueling the stereotype of the batarian thug. It should be noted that these criminals do not represent average citizens, who are forbidden to leave batarian space by their ubiquitous and paranoid government.
http://masseffect.wi...m/wiki/Batarian
Quarian - The quarians are a species of humanoid aliens known for their skills with technology and synthetic intelligence. Since their homeworld Rannoch was retaken from the geth, the quarians have been rebuilding their society, learning to live on a planet's surface and regaining their culture from the ground up.
http://masseffect.wi...om/wiki/Quarian
Yahg - The yahg are a sentient race of towering humanoids native to the world of Parnack, known for their violent and aggressive nature. Consummate predators, the yahg possess unrivaled perceptiveness and mental adaptability. Discovered by the Citadel Council in 2125 CE, the yahg were unceremoniously barred from interaction with Citadel space after massacring the Council's delegation.
http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Yahg
Vorcha - Known for their unique biology and aggressive behavior, the vorcha of Heshtok are a primitive race that live among the galaxy's darker and more dangerous locations, such as Omega. Many vorcha are trained by the krogan Blood Pack as mercenaries due to their savage nature and adaptability to different environments. The rest of galactic civilization regards them as pests and scavengers, and their presence is generally seen as a blight.
http://masseffect.wi...com/wiki/Vorcha
Abilities:
The Mass Effect games has a nifty class specialization in place that I do not intend to change. This has nothing to do with your app or character, but will help those who are not fluent in Mass Effect to create a character. You can be skilled at combat, tech, or biotics (see http://masseffect.wi...om/wiki/Biotics). You cannot be skilled at all three, and being skilled in two means being less skilled in the on area someone else focuses on. Keep this in mind when creating your character, and do not limit yourself by the game’s classes, because that is not being creative. Some characters may have no need for skills in any of those areas.
RULES:
1. This will be geared for intermediate-experienced RPers. Our standards are our standards, please do not whine about them, simply find a RP that is geared more for your preference. Thank you.
2. The aforementioned standards will require a lot of in-depth writing on your part; so obviously, no one-liners. Be thorough and detailed with every post. I don’t like imposing length restrictions, but sometimes it is necessary, so a paragraph is the minimum for each post.
3. Proper grammar and spelling is a must. Obviously, everyone makes mistakes, but if your grammar is troubled (by either English not being your first or best language, education, or simply you), you may be asked to leave the Roleplay. And we will probably kill your character. Gorily.
4. Metagaming and Powergaming are never tolerated, and can result in removal from the RP. Again, in gory IC death fashion. If you are unaware of the meaning of these terms, this may not be the Roleplay for you. Be mindful that RP is not about winning, but storytelling.
5. In addition to Metagaming and Powergaming, be careful that your character is realistic (for Mass Effect, anyway.) Not everyone is an indestructible powerhouse like John Shephard. You must have weaknesses as well as strengths.
6. This is the OOC thread. Post OOC comments here, and please refrain as much as possible from posting OOC on the IC thread. If you absolutely must post in OOC on the IC thread, please use denotation such as “(( ))”, “[[ ]]”, or “OOC: “
7. This RP takes place in the universe of the Mass Effect game series. As such, be sure to include the word Bioware in the "other" section of your application. This is that fun little gimmick to make sure you’ve at least glanced at the rules.
8. If you have yet to be accepted, please do not post in the IC thread. That would be considered a disruption of our RP.
9. Excessive language, flaming, trolling, or hate speech of any kind in OOC will not be tolerated. If it is IC, be mindful of other players. We do, however, encourage a more mature audience, since Mass Effect is a game restricted to players above the age of 17 anyway.
10. If you would like to a moderator of this RP, please PM me.
11. Creativity is a must.
12. Having fun is also a must.
And finally, the
Character Sheet
Name: (Be sure this fits your race. See below for more info)
Age: (Also be sure this fits your race)
Gender: (Any. Gender preference not necessary to denote)
Race: (Choose only from the list above)
Appearance: (Includes physical description and clothing/armor. Pictures will not suffice. Be as detailed as possible. For more information on armor, see http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Armor.
Weapons/Equipment: (Includes all carried weapons for soldier type characters and all equipment for civilians, including cameras, medical, technical, etc. Keep in mind that every character must have an omni-tool. For more information, see these articles on weapons : http://masseffect.wi...om/wiki/Weapons and technology: http://masseffect.wi...odex/Technology)
Background: (This is your character’s history up until this point. Be as detailed as possible, two paragraphs is preferred. Be sure to include how you got to the Citadel (unless you were born there) and how you heard about and applied for ExoGeni corp.)
Other: (Please include any further information you would like to add about your character, or any comments/suggestions for me or staff.)
Naming your character:
To be sure your character’s name fits his background, you could go to the respective race page on the Mass Effect wiki, look up other character’s name, and get creative or steal a name from an existing character or planet in their system. Or, you can use my nifty little tool, using someone else’s nifty little tool. Copy the text inside the spoiler of your race, and paste it in the big box at the following url: http://www.risusmonk...etta-stone.html (be sure to delete the existing text!). Then, simply type your name or a significant word into the little box, and PRESTO! You have just generated a name that sounds just like the race’s language. This is NOT necessary or required. Just fun.
Asari
siari ardat yakshi Aethyta Aleena Alestia Iallis Aria T'Loak Batha Benezia Dilinaga Liara T'Soni Lidanya Liselle Mallene Calis Morinth Nyxeris Nassana Dantius Nelyna Rana Thanoptis Samara Saphyria Seryna Sha'ira Shiala Tela Vasir Thessia Agessia Asteria Cyone Hyetiana Illium Kurinth Lesuss Lusia Lymetis Nevos Niacal Phoros Sanves Trategos Zesmeni Polos Lerama Nos Astra Marya Monoi Irira Astella Aurolis Etheai Pyrena Parnitha Athame Piares Tevura
Salarian
Anoleis Chorban Ish Jaroth Kirrahe Ledra Maelon Heplorn Linron Mordin Solus Morlan Palon Rentola Saleon Schells Solik Vass Tazzik Salarian Sur'Kesh Dagnes Erinle Gorot Halegeuse Jaëto Mannovai Nasurn Olor Aegohr Rannadril Anoleis Senoquol Ghan Swa Fulsoom Karaten Narr Eadi Bel Heranon Mal Dinest Got Inoste pranas Aifa Talat Dragel Paeto Saradril
Turian
Palaven Aephus Altakiril Baetika Bostra Carthaan Chatti Digeris Edessan Epyrus Galatana Gellix Gothis Invictus Pheiros Macedyn Magna Nimines Parthia Oma Ker Quadim Rocam Syglar Taetrus Thracia Tridend Triginta Petra Xerceo hastatim Tonn Actus Saren Arterius Desolas Chellick Corinthus Sparatus Quentius Nyreen Kandros Nihlus Kryik Kuril Lilihierax Mehrkuri Illo Nazario Septimus Oraka Orinia Pallin Lorik Qui'in Lantar Sidonis Joram Talid Garrus Vakarian Vyrnnus Adrien Victus Tarquin Cipritine Estivus Erax Apparitus Anapondus Shastinasio Sarlik Licitron Trebia Aventen Caelax Datriux Essenus Impera Menae Temerarus Erros
Volus
Barla Von Din Korlack Doran Han Olar Jahleed Pitne For Irune Boro Daleon Maskawa Patavig Talis Fia Zada Ban volus vol Lenos Yila Sahime Usra Dao Dolo Aru Cherk Sab Doldit Jak Ser Locil
Elcor
Calyn Harrot Petozi Xeltan Elcor Dekuuna Ekuna Oltan Sangel Thunawanuro phontes Telluune Lenuamund Nurhemathun Sereuun Malvuon Durawunafon
Hanar
Delanynder Opold Zymandis Hanar Kahje Belan Blasto
Drell
Feron Irikah Kolyat Krios Thane Amonkira Arashu Kalahira siha Rakhana Kepral sihaya tannor nuara Quolye
Batarian
Balak Charn Edan Had'dah Eluam Ran'perah Groto Ib-ba Jath'Amon Jella Forvan Solem Dal'serah Tarak Khar'shan Adek Anhur Aratoht Erszbat Camala Logasiri Lorek Vana Verush Essul Ectah Ujon Jalnor Harsa Dezda Ilem Spekilas
Quarian
Daro Xen Feda Gazu Golo Han Gerrel Hilo Jaa Kal Reegar Kar Danna Kenn Lemm Shal Lia Vael Prazza Rael Zorah Seeto Hodda Shala Raan Tali Veetor Nara Ysin Mal Zaal Koris Rannoch Adas Haestrom Kaddi Ket'osh Uriyah Alarei Idenna Cyniad Honorata Moreh Neema Defrahnz Iktomi Rayya Tonbay Usela Yaska Bavea nedas tasi vas nar keelah se'lai bosh'tet geth Khelish Tikkun Haza
Vorcha
Gryll Kreete Shisk Heshtok Flett Namakli Parasc Volturno Wrill Kyzil Naskral Lihrat Rustaka Hatash
*Mass Effect, the Mass Effect logo, and any and all Mass Effect related images and items are copyrights or trademarks of Bioware, or their respective copyright or trademark holders. "Enough Energy RP" is not affiliated with or endorsed by Bioware, or any of the respective copyright or trademark holders mentioned above. “Enough Energy RP” is a non-profit roleplay experience intended for entertainment purposes only.
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I regret to inform the followers of this topic that Fallout: Old World Blues will not be returning to the internet scheme. I still have 1, possibly 2, more year(s) of college to attend, and I simply will not have the time while there or during the summer to pick up this project. Much about Minecraft has changed in my absence, and many of our plugins are now defunct, leaving this project more of an effort to keep alive than scrap.
However, there exists a glimmer of hope in these dark times. F:OWB was simply too amazing. I loved running the server, its easily one of the fondest memories I've ever had. So I don't think I'm done running RP servers. In the year(s) to come, I will in fact be starting up another Roleplay server. Will it be as large in scale? Will staff start again with me? Will it be as in-depth? These questions cannot be answered at the current time. However, I can answer that it will not be Fallout themed, unfortunately.
The bad news is, of course, this will be a long while from now. Many of you may lose interest in this or in MC altogether. But if you stick around, you will indeed see this come back. I've got nothing but positive reviews of my server from all of you (save literally 2 people that ever thought I was doing a bad job) and I know that if I attempt this again, taking more time to plan and correct the errors of OWB, I'll be onto something pretty freaking sweet. It is my sincerest hope that you all join me in this endeavor. (the easiest way would be to add me on Skype, since I will likely be keeping up any information there.)
So as of now, farewell. And by farewell, I mean find me on some other RP servers, or on the Forum Roleplay section where I'm planning on starting an RP, or talk to me on here, skype, or FB or something. The only real farewell is to the OWB server itself, which is inanimate, and therefore incapable of hearing my saddened pleas. But in all seriousness, thank you all for making this experience something incredible. I love each and every one of you, my children. My children who I bled and sweat and cried over, painstakingly attempting to provide the best Fallout RP experience possible. I hope that you, my children, Will support in this new RP endeavor. Which may or not contain a zombie outbreak. Thank you.
~C_M
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IGN: broken_sky
Age: 19
Why us?: I've been looking for a dedicated RP server that I could join for those late summer nights when I've nothing to do, but being a seasoned roleplayer, nothing quite stood up to my standards and expectations. Except you. ;D
Have you voted for us at Planet Minecraft?: Indeed
Define Role-Playing in your words: Roleplaying is an art form. It is collaborative storytelling at its best. It is stretching the English language to its limits in the realm of creativity, developing a persona and interacting with other personalities to produce a brilliantly entertaining work of fiction. And it's hella fun.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Metagaming is taking knowledge you received OOC and using it IC. So it's basically like looking up how to finish an LoZ dungeon online. Which is cheating. Which is illegal in 7 countries.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Powergaming is when a gamer basically performs an RP action that is far outside of the realm of realistic possibility. Like dodging everything and killing everyone.
IC:
Name: Fortis Virdeum
Nickname: (Optional) Fort
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Race: Imperial
Appearance: Fortis is rather short for an Imperial, with a young face to match. He keeps his hair and beard shaved short. He favors light clothing and armor, namely leather, and carries twin steel daggers.
Personality: Fort is a lover before he is a fighter. Of Nibenean blood, he has always had an affinity for culture. He has a way with words and is very studious and knowledgeable, yet still rather reserved around others; out of insecurity more than humility. He is naturally even-tempered, but has it what it takes to do what needs to be done, should the situation arise.
In-game RP Fight example: (Include dialog)
"Please, by The Nine! Just let me go!"
Fortis tried with all of his might to wriggle free of the bounty hunter's grasp, but to no avail. He was too small and too weak for the brute of a man who held him in headlock, ready to crush his windpipe at a moment's notice.
"Do you have any idea how many Septims are being paid for your head?" The cruel man let out a satisfied chuckle. "Just give up, lad. You'll see the Nine yourself in a bit, just make my job easier and hold still."
It was clear that the hunter was attempting to execute Fortis is some specified manner, but he would have none of it. He continued to put up a struggle, and pleaded with the bounty hunter,
"I don't want to hurt you, just let me go!"
The man laughed again, louder and harder this time, bellowing out in humor. "Oh, that's rich, lad. You can't even come up for air, how in Oblivion do you plan on doing anything at all?"
With a downcast face, Fortis stopped struggling, and whispered under his breath as light began to softly emanate from his right hand.
"...like this..."
As quick as lightning, Fortis threw his hand into the air, and cast a spell beside himself. Conjuration magic, which he had studied years ago, came to his aid in the form of a familiar, which pounced the bounty hunter and freed Fortis from his hold. Wasting no time at all, Fortis tapped into his magicka again, and both his hands began to glow.
The bounty hunter wrestled free of the spirit wolf and drew his war axe, deftly and skillfully hacking at the creature, sending it back to the Oblivion from whence it came. Enraged, he turned to his target, Fortis Virdeum...but suddenly felt him a target no more. In fact, his rage subsided as quickly as it came about. He knew that Fortis was his target but suddenly had no desire to fight him, sheathing his axe.
These were the effects of that spell, Pacify, which Fortis had just cast. With a look of pain upon his face, he withdrew his twin daggers from his side and walked up to the bounty hunter, staring him in the eyes.
"I'm sorry."
Were his words as he plunged the cold steel into the gaps of the hunter's armor, tearing the flesh and piercing the delicate innards inside. The hunter's rage returned, but too late; the cold hand of death was already stretching out over him.
"...no need...to be sorry...lad..." the brute sputtered between gasps for air and heaves of blood, "...you've...bested...me..."
"I wasn't talking to you," Fortis said, clenching his teeth. He pulled back his blades, releasing the floodgates of blood they held back, and the bounty hunter dropped to his knees in silence, awaiting Aetherius.
"I'm sorry, Dea."
Background (I know you said two paragraphs, I'm sorry.): Fortis was born in Cyrodil, in the town of Chorrol by the great forest. He was raised by a priest and priestess, and was religious from an early age, worshiping Stendarr in the town's chapel. Even when he was young, he had a desire and drive for culture, and applied himself to book study and art. Magic fascinated him, and he took to learning from the chapel's healer. This, however, was not enough for him, and into his teenage years he applied himself to learning other various forms of magic. His talents did not go unnoticed, and before long he was approached by the Vigilants of Stendarr, the Keepers of the Vigil and Stendarr's mercy. He was recruiting into their ranks, and left home behind. He was positioned as a field guide of sorts for other Vigilants. He was not very skilled in combat, so assisted with knowledge of mythology, lore, and magic, and provided healing and wards for the other Vigilants. They traveled Cyrodil seeking out witches, vampires, werewolves, and even men who held tightly to that which was Daedric. And while he learned to abhor these things as Stendarr did, his psyche was always all the more intrigued by this forbidden knowledge with each passing hunt. In secret he continued to study darker forms of magic, the magic of the Daedra that made such fell beasts and artifacts.
And then he met Dea. Dea Tarin was another Vigilant quickly ascending in the ranks, a Dunmer and a skilled combatant. She was assigned to his patrol, and she fell for his charm as he fell for her beauty. The two were in such vibrant love that the other Vigilants said nothing to the Keeper. But as they were allowed to grow close, Fortis' dark secret was revealed. Dea uncovered his study as she spent the night in his quarters, and was appalled at the detailed and enthralled notes he had written on the Daedra. Her love for him was strong, but she was heartbroken, and would see him no more until his sickening fascination was addressed. He was convicted and sought out the Keeper of the Vigil, who pulled him from the field. Which would change his life forever. It so happened that on the very next field assignment, the Vigilants would stand against a Daedra itself, and the team was all but massacred. In a heroic effort, Dea had given her life. Enraged and full of sorrow, Fortis burned his study, and vowed to stay as far away from magic as he could, in honor of his lost love.
And so he fled Cyrodil. He wanted, and needed, to get as far away from the place as possible. And what place could be farther than off of Tamriel itself. He fled to Akavir, to the Thanefall, where he could use his talents to continue to hunt the Daedric monsters that prowl the dark. Though they would not be his only foe. The Tarin household would hire mercenaries to track down the man they held responsible for her death, and Fortis would be forced to fight or die. If, perhaps, the Vigilants would see a need to start a chapter in Thanefall, he could prove his worth and clear his name. Perhaps he would seek to do that very thing..
SKOOMA KILLS!
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I've sent you the new file via skype.
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I'm terribly sorry then. Unfortunately, my hands are tied. The staff simply doesnt have the time. When we did, we didnt have adequate staff, so it was an all around sluggish progression. Hopefully this leisure time away from RP helps us focus on builds, plugins, and other features, so the next time RP is open it is an even better experience.
And yea, its up now. Though new apps prolly wont go through since it will be down soon, members can enjoy a few days of RP and complete intolerance against BS.
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This needs expansion.
I'll look over this when I can. Please bear with me.
It will take some time. Especially now following the announcement below.
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Yes, I still require help, friend. Please tlk to me on skype when you can.
Your application does not meet our criteria standards.
Followers! Yay!
I like this. Can't say I like your writing style, as its very interrupted, not entirely descriptive, and tends to lack proper use of emphasis...but I'm not here to grade your writing! lol. Its a darn good app, and I'd like to see your character with his unique and interesting history fit into our RP. HOWEVER:
Note: The Special plugin is not ready yet.
Note: http://fallout.wikia.com/wiki/Vault_56
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No.
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The server will be down for the next few days. Guns NEED to be updated to prevent further problems, and we'll be making some much needed changes to factions and other things.