Name: Noth Farlen Gender: Male Weapons: a dagger made of the cheapest metal ever discovered by man Allegiance: Nobody Weapons: A Dagger Made Of The Cheapest Metal Ever Discovered By Man Skills: running, jumping, farming Personality: Tired, weary of life, Constantly terrified of the world and people around him Bio: He grewed up in the city and made lots of friends but they all died and his family and he was alone in a world that god had abandoned. He lost a lot of blood defending hisself and decided just to try to survive rather than pick a side and just let everything resolve itsself because he is an ignorant and powerless man who wouldnt be able to do much anyways other than die. he is currently aged at 19 and knows that he probably doesn't have much longer to live due to the leaders constant war for control of a city he that had crushed his hopes and dreams and life and the plague and the fact that he is at about half his lifespan if not even shorter. Other: he is afraid is this good? or should i make it better
Name- Joe Bonham Age- 21 Skills-morse code Gender-male Appearance-no arms or legs no visual on the face, bottom half of the torso attached to a large machine. upper torso has a hospital patient shirt on Inventory- nothing Weaknesses-everything besides thinking and morse code Likes-wants to show people the terror of war Dislikes- life Personality-sad, very very very very very very very very sad Bio- Though his father was never in a war he believed that any man would give up his only begotten son for democracy, and raised Joe to be in the military when he grew old enough. Unfortunately Joe was caught alone his squad pinned down by opposing forces, he tried to help them and even was able to kill a few of the opposition, but this moment of heroism was ended by a RPG that was shot and landed next to Joe. Joe wakes up days later in a hospital bed unaware of what has happened to him but seeing nothing but darkness. other dead
Some people came to see him as he awoke lying in a bed as far as he could tell in his critically frail state. He could not tell who they were or what they were saying but tired to answer with shakes of the head. Once they had left the lights were turned off for the night. There he lies in the dark room alone as always, no strength, no freedom, frozen beneath the ice but still breathing feeling the chills and pain of it all. Why did they continue to condemn him to this life he never wanted. He fell asleep quickly always being tired, to weary of life and the suffering within himself. He thought that his dreams were the only place he could hide from it all.
He had been woken the morning by a creature shambling towards him. It had a slight resemblance to a human but could not have been anything living. Its left arm seemed to have been peeled off and the abdominal seemed ripped open showing a small section of the spine. One eye in the socket one eye out. Its flesh seemed to be deteriorated immensely.
At first he was in absolute terror as it approached him, but he soon embraced it as there was nothing he could do anyways, what was the worse that could happen he thought. Soon the creature was next to him and collapsed on top of him biting him his neck. He began choking gasping he could see his own blood spewing from him the pain was unbearable but he knew it would all be over soon and this is what he deserved. The world darkened and faded to black he would be at peace in his first life but now he would be living in a new hell.
Age(Between 15 & 45)- 16
Gender(Male/Female/Both)- male
Ethnicity(Caucasian/African-American/Asian/Etc.)- caucasian
Physical Appearance(Body Type and Facial/Picture or Description)-
dangerously underweight, short, black hair messy and eyes looking through into nothingness Clothing- Green Hospital clothing i suppose Personality(Characteristics)- A timid person that just wants to survive in the infernal abyss that was once home. Biography- New blood joins this earth and quickly hes subdued by the very two who have brought him into existence. They lashed him with their drunken petty and child like behavior of pointless and short lived grudges and hatred for him as a person. Being young he took their constant hatred to heart and each day became a day as horrific as the last. He did not understand their love only their hate but rather than becoming the pain that festered in him he hid from it becoming almost catatonic at a point. No friends only everlasting days of mental and slightly physical pain. He would claw at the walls sobbing in misery behind his parents backs his warp mind could not show weakness in their presence besides the nervous peeling at the flesh on his legs to the point of bleeding, which has brought him to the hospital a myriad of times to the point where his parents became concerned about him. Though he could not find this love and care through the shifting anger, it became nothing more than requirements to prevent their imprisonment in his eyes. At 16 he began to cut his arms to relieve the pain of his mind that was in a flux of constant emotional insanity consisting of anger sadness and despair. He found no love in the world ceded to duress and torment, his thoughts and feelings and physical being began to decline to the point of catastrophe. One day he decided he could not go on, the stress overbearing suffocating, imprisoning, no more would he feel the toxic bitterness of the world and of himself he would be not lost but rather free from his suffering in oblivion. He smashed a window with a chair, found the final bit of strength in himself from a lifetime of torment to finally reach the finale, the end. For a moment the universe became still the air around him in his eyes turned into a thick strangling mist, his eyes looked through the window, at his locked door and his feet, though a shard of glass lodged in his abdominal obstructed his view. The pain was devastating but fleeting as he began to take steps moving no faster than a few millimeters per step he attempted to pick up the chair to sit on it as the blood began to steep from his self inflicted wound but instead fell over. He woke up in a hospital still not alive, still lingering on as the husk of a human that never was.
City/Location- brooklyn, new york
Inventory(11 Items or Less)- nothing
so for this build contest i made this
the head was made slightly bigger, this is based off a character called hunter GunBlade.
but not a single vote from anyone on the server even a small sandstone pyramid had more votes than this
so i was wondering what did i do wrong? how would you improve it? what should i do next?
i was thinking a minecrafted version of this
with just the guy with the gun (witchslayer) in that pose with a plastic pumpkin candy holder near the end of his gun
what do you all think?
In a world of the impossible but easily imaginable, where caps paved the roads and buildings were whole and even had a fresh coat of paint. As Slen searched around in astonishment of this world he found himself staring in awe at his birthplace a ship that stood in one whole piece. It was almost enough to bring him to tears, just when he was about to enter through the silver encrusted bridge to this astonishing new Rivet City his mother appeared before him. He began to cry, in anguish and was rudely awaken from his slumber by screams. "Must be the first Monday of the month" he muttered to himself. "I'd better check on 'my old man' just in case" he continued still in a drowsy state. He rose from his decayed mattress lying in the middle of his room, the most interesting thing in his room was the walls encrusted with rust and layered in a great many cobwebs though there is a light switch with a bulb couldn't illuminate a tin can making the room almost black. Being the son of the prophet he had to share everything with the other members. The mattress is littered with open cavities that had been eaten through by numerous insects and a Gary on the brink of death, with even more sewed areas on this patchwork monstrosity. Slen still could not fathom how he slept at night when he would always wake excessively itchy and his back in knots. "oooooo" He moaned in pain "'you'll get used to it' my ass" He pushed his hips and back forward letting out a myriad of audible pops and cracks from his spine as his face tensed up and relaxed in a minor amount of relief. Slen took a large breath in and released still groggy and once again was interrupted by another scream. Slen slightly irritated rubbed the rheum out of his eyes and proceeded drearily out of his room and took an unsteady left down the hall. The hall was poorly lit by bulbs similar to the one in his room by a generator far beyond its expiration. The walls and floor were littered with rust and were to seem to be sloppily cleaned from the past decay, the floor was still filthy and unsanitary with many shoe prints with dirt and cobwebs even some dried blood was encrusted in the corners and papers left behind by the former residents of the vault were scattered. Many damaged machine spread across the different sections of the church. No one ever bothered with them as far as Slen knew but some seemed to be functional no doubt due to the prophet’s efforts with the original four disciples. Usually the shapes of them were rectangular pressed against the walls on their widths side. Slen continued down the hall passing by a few doors into the other members’ rooms with a large window rectangular and on its lengths side to see inside their each of their rooms. As he passed by the first room he began to notice an unusually humming but disregarded the sound as he glared at his fellow members still sleeping soundly. He realized that he was still weary having been awoken far to soon, and thought to himself that he would check on the prophet and hit the sack again. As Slen approached the door to the origin of the screams, the prophets work place, and it became very apparent that the humming was the soft sounds of music coming from the room. Slen could make out the voice of a man, the voice sounded old and tired almost drunken, somber. The man’s voice was accompanied by the sound of a instrument he could not identify. The sound was almost the sound he made when he plucked a taut piece of thin metal wire hanging around Rivet city with his finger. It was a symphony of taut wires, delicately upbeat yet in rhythm with the sobbing singing. “…She told me that you was too young. I wished da the lord that I never seen your face, I’m sorry yu evor was born….” It created a euphoric emotion in Slen despite the dismal mood of the song. He stood by the door listening, with the prophet preoccupied with his holy duties to bear notice to Slen. The voice of the man seemed to be bellowing, his voice seemed as though his voice echoed throughout the world of his torment holding the I’s so long it seemed almost saddening. Towards the end of the songs section it seems to lighten up in mood. Slen savors every moment of the sweet music even feeling a bit less jaded to see the prophet. “…Irene goodnight, Irene goodnight, goodnight Irene, goodnight Irene I giss you in my dreams….”
It seemed the tone almost changed by deception to cheery but Slen could still guess that the song was still full of saddened emotion especially towards the end of the section of the song, he began to think what could have possibly made this man’s life so terrible? “Sometimes I live in the country, Sometimes I live in town, sometimes I have a great notion, to jump into the rivor and drown.”
0
Gender: Male
Weapons: a dagger made of the cheapest metal ever discovered by man
Allegiance: Nobody
Weapons: A Dagger Made Of The Cheapest Metal Ever Discovered By Man
Skills: running, jumping, farming
Personality: Tired, weary of life, Constantly terrified of the world and people around him
Bio: He grewed up in the city and made lots of friends but they all died and his family and he was alone in a world that god had abandoned. He lost a lot of blood defending hisself and decided just to try to survive rather than pick a side and just let everything resolve itsself because he is an ignorant and powerless man who wouldnt be able to do much anyways other than die. he is currently aged at 19 and knows that he probably doesn't have much longer to live due to the leaders constant war for control of a city he that had crushed his hopes and dreams and life and the plague and the fact that he is at about half his lifespan if not even shorter.
Other: he is afraid
is this good? or should i make it better
0
0
Age- 21
Skills-morse code
Gender-male
Appearance-no arms or legs no visual on the face, bottom half of the torso attached to a large machine. upper torso has a hospital patient shirt on
Inventory- nothing
Weaknesses-everything besides thinking and morse code
Likes-wants to show people the terror of war
Dislikes- life
Personality-sad, very very very very very very very very sad
Bio- Though his father was never in a war he believed that any man would give up his only begotten son for democracy, and raised Joe to be in the military when he grew old enough. Unfortunately Joe was caught alone his squad pinned down by opposing forces, he tried to help them and even was able to kill a few of the opposition, but this moment of heroism was ended by a RPG that was shot and landed next to Joe. Joe wakes up days later in a hospital bed unaware of what has happened to him but seeing nothing but darkness.
other dead
0
He had been woken the morning by a creature shambling towards him. It had a slight resemblance to a human but could not have been anything living. Its left arm seemed to have been peeled off and the abdominal seemed ripped open showing a small section of the spine. One eye in the socket one eye out. Its flesh seemed to be deteriorated immensely.
At first he was in absolute terror as it approached him, but he soon embraced it as there was nothing he could do anyways, what was the worse that could happen he thought. Soon the creature was next to him and collapsed on top of him biting him his neck. He began choking gasping he could see his own blood spewing from him the pain was unbearable but he knew it would all be over soon and this is what he deserved. The world darkened and faded to black he would be at peace in his first life but now he would be living in a new hell.
0
Gender(Male/Female/Both)- male
Ethnicity(Caucasian/African-American/Asian/Etc.)- caucasian
Physical Appearance(Body Type and Facial/Picture or Description)-
Clothing- Green Hospital clothing i suppose
Personality(Characteristics)- A timid person that just wants to survive in the infernal abyss that was once home.
Biography- New blood joins this earth and quickly hes subdued by the very two who have brought him into existence. They lashed him with their drunken petty and child like behavior of pointless and short lived grudges and hatred for him as a person. Being young he took their constant hatred to heart and each day became a day as horrific as the last. He did not understand their love only their hate but rather than becoming the pain that festered in him he hid from it becoming almost catatonic at a point. No friends only everlasting days of mental and slightly physical pain. He would claw at the walls sobbing in misery behind his parents backs his warp mind could not show weakness in their presence besides the nervous peeling at the flesh on his legs to the point of bleeding, which has brought him to the hospital a myriad of times to the point where his parents became concerned about him. Though he could not find this love and care through the shifting anger, it became nothing more than requirements to prevent their imprisonment in his eyes. At 16 he began to cut his arms to relieve the pain of his mind that was in a flux of constant emotional insanity consisting of anger sadness and despair. He found no love in the world ceded to duress and torment, his thoughts and feelings and physical being began to decline to the point of catastrophe. One day he decided he could not go on, the stress overbearing suffocating, imprisoning, no more would he feel the toxic bitterness of the world and of himself he would be not lost but rather free from his suffering in oblivion. He smashed a window with a chair, found the final bit of strength in himself from a lifetime of torment to finally reach the finale, the end. For a moment the universe became still the air around him in his eyes turned into a thick strangling mist, his eyes looked through the window, at his locked door and his feet, though a shard of glass lodged in his abdominal obstructed his view. The pain was devastating but fleeting as he began to take steps moving no faster than a few millimeters per step he attempted to pick up the chair to sit on it as the blood began to steep from his self inflicted wound but instead fell over. He woke up in a hospital still not alive, still lingering on as the husk of a human that never was.
Inventory(11 Items or Less)- nothing
0
0
the head was made slightly bigger, this is based off a character called hunter GunBlade.
but not a single vote from anyone on the server even a small sandstone pyramid had more votes than this
so i was wondering what did i do wrong? how would you improve it? what should i do next?
i was thinking a minecrafted version of this
with just the guy with the gun (witchslayer) in that pose with a plastic pumpkin candy holder near the end of his gun
what do you all think?
0
i might be blind or something but doesn't Khan (Benedict Cumberbatch) kinda look like John Preston (christian bale)?
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(that is christian bale isnt it talco?)
0
0
[x] The Johnny got his gun experience
0
can i be this guy
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"Must be the first Monday of the month" he muttered to himself. "I'd better check on 'my old man' just in case" he continued still in a drowsy state.
He rose from his decayed mattress lying in the middle of his room, the most interesting thing in his room was the walls encrusted with rust and layered in a great many cobwebs though there is a light switch with a bulb couldn't illuminate a tin can making the room almost black. Being the son of the prophet he had to share everything with the other members. The mattress is littered with open cavities that had been eaten through by numerous insects and a Gary on the brink of death, with even more sewed areas on this patchwork monstrosity. Slen still could not fathom how he slept at night when he would always wake excessively itchy and his back in knots.
"oooooo" He moaned in pain "'you'll get used to it' my ass"
He pushed his hips and back forward letting out a myriad of audible pops and cracks from his spine as his face tensed up and relaxed in a minor amount of relief. Slen took a large breath in and released still groggy and once again was interrupted by another scream. Slen slightly irritated rubbed the rheum out of his eyes and proceeded drearily out of his room and took an unsteady left down the hall. The hall was poorly lit by bulbs similar to the one in his room by a generator far beyond its expiration. The walls and floor were littered with rust and were to seem to be sloppily cleaned from the past decay, the floor was still filthy and unsanitary with many shoe prints with dirt and cobwebs even some dried blood was encrusted in the corners and papers left behind by the former residents of the vault were scattered. Many damaged machine spread across the different sections of the church. No one ever bothered with them as far as Slen knew but some seemed to be functional no doubt due to the prophet’s efforts with the original four disciples. Usually the shapes of them were rectangular pressed against the walls on their widths side. Slen continued down the hall passing by a few doors into the other members’ rooms with a large window rectangular and on its lengths side to see inside their each of their rooms. As he passed by the first room he began to notice an unusually humming but disregarded the sound as he glared at his fellow members still sleeping soundly. He realized that he was still weary having been awoken far to soon, and thought to himself that he would check on the prophet and hit the sack again.
As Slen approached the door to the origin of the screams, the prophets work place, and it became very apparent that the humming was the soft sounds of music coming from the room. Slen could make out the voice of a man, the voice sounded old and tired almost drunken, somber. The man’s voice was accompanied by the sound of a instrument he could not identify. The sound was almost the sound he made when he plucked a taut piece of thin metal wire hanging around Rivet city with his finger. It was a symphony of taut wires, delicately upbeat yet in rhythm with the sobbing singing.
“…She told me that you was too young. I wished da the lord that I never seen your face, I’m sorry yu evor was born….”
It created a euphoric emotion in Slen despite the dismal mood of the song. He stood by the door listening, with the prophet preoccupied with his holy duties to bear notice to Slen. The voice of the man seemed to be bellowing, his voice seemed as though his voice echoed throughout the world of his torment holding the I’s so long it seemed almost saddening. Towards the end of the songs section it seems to lighten up in mood. Slen savors every moment of the sweet music even feeling a bit less jaded to see the prophet.
“…Irene goodnight, Irene goodnight, goodnight Irene, goodnight Irene I giss you in my dreams….”
It seemed the tone almost changed by deception to cheery but Slen could still guess that the song was still full of saddened emotion especially towards the end of the section of the song, he began to think what could have possibly made this man’s life so terrible?
“Sometimes I live in the country, Sometimes I live in town, sometimes I have a great notion, to jump into the rivor and drown.”
still working on it but here is my first post
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didn't the bombs drop 200+ years ago?))