-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example? Yes. Predominantly the Kingdom of Aeonis MC server along with a few others such as: Fallout: Sins of Our Fathers, Fallout: Ashes of Our Fathers, and Akavir, and a small bit of D&D.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Power-gaming is having an obvious advantage over other players or events, mostly in combat. For example, a player causing another player’s character to die or become wounded instantly not allowing for a reaction from the other player.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Meta-gaming is using knowledge obtained out of character, and using it in character to gain an advantage. An example would be: having a friend on Skype tell you where something is happening, and traveling there on purpose.
----IC Info---- -Character name: Gareth Rose
-Character race: Human
-Character age: 22
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!): Aspiring sell ”sword” / Barkamsted military
-Character description (At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.): Gareth is a young human man, with a build a fair bit above average, standing at 6'4". Given his height and muscular definition, he does not possess a lean but rather a more athletic frame. He has straight, dark brown hair that falls flat above his gunmetal blue eyes. Gareth is frequently training his body so he may face the wilds outside of Barkamsted. He wears simple clothes, a light brown tunic and leather pants, due to his lack of work and motivation for possessions that will not aid his goal.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.): Gareth is a confident young man, with big aspirations. He wishes to bring the humans back to their former glory, which can lead members of differing races to see him as partially bigoted. Despite being large and possessing a commanding voice, Gareth tends to keep to himself as he is too entwined in his own personal aspirations to divide his time to others. Due to his time in the forests Gareth has acquired a knack for reacting to surprises. Due to his self-isolation on personal matters he remains without any close friends and a lack of group cooperation and coordination.
-Character biography(At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
Gareth was born in and grew up in the village of Barkamsted, not too far from the center of town. He’s fairly educated and came from a good family, although he’s had a taste for getting himself in over his head as a child. His Uncle Varis, a soldier who helped others flee from the invading onslaught of the pact, told him stories of the fallback and the once mighty empire that the humans had held. These stories made the Gareth curious about seeing such a world for himself. Gareth saw himself seeking fame and fortune outside the safety of the town’s walls. He hoped to recreate the glory that his uncle described in his tales.
Once he was ten years old, Gareth's uncle went missing after travelling out into the wilds. His mother became depressed and tried the best she could to dissuade Gareth from following in his uncle’s tracks. Instead of heading his mother’s wishes Gareth began working his body, watching the training routines of the guards, and pushing himself past their standards. He eventually found a way to make money as he grew older, completing requests. As time passed Gareth realized that he loved the thrill of travelling outside of the town, the rush of adrenaline that hit him whenever danger crept up on him. The main issue with this was his lack of protection outside of his own body. Gareth did not possess the wealth to come by much in the way of armor and for a weapon all he had was a short metal bar.
Now into adulthood, Gareth is wholeheartedly dedicated to gathering enough coin to acquire a blade that he can depend on as he travels outside the town. One that he could clash swords with the orcs his uncle’s stories had detailed. However, he seemed to have a problem of misappropriating his coin. He spent almost as much as he brought in completing various tasks as he did preparing for them. Gareth has sworn his life to travelling outside of Barkamsted and defeating the Pact, but there may now be more pressing matters.
-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.
After walking through the markets for a few minutes Gareth reaches his destination. He stands in awe gawking at the smith’s stall as he admires the fine blades the man has crafted. Realizing that his purse was being lifted Gareth let out a commanding "Hey!" as he scanned his immediate surrounding to spot the child dashing away. Gareth runs in the direction of the child, yelling for him to stop. As the child weaves through the crowds Gareth’s large body is contrastingly bashing into others as he apologizes while attempting to keep sight on the child. He begins to slow down to a halt, realizing that his pursuit is pointless and with the loss of his purse Gareth begins his walk back to the smith’s stall. Defeated, he gives the blades a final glance before heading home.
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.
His ears perking up at the sound of whining in the distance. Gareth carefully makes his way through the brush of the forest to spot a wolf snared in the trap he had set earlier that week. This was the sort of work Gareth did when he needed money. A local farmer had said that his livestock was being threatened by the abundance of nearby wolves. He carefully approaches the wolf family. Noting that the mother seemed to be fully immobilized he began to move closer, a heavy rock in hand. Slowly creeping his way to wolf, he raised the rock up above his head with both hands wrapped around it to give the impending impact added force. Ignoring the snarls from the wolf, Gareth is now within striking distance when he notices the three smaller lumps of fur. He pauses for a moment, mentally apologizes for his actions, and swings his arms down over the mother’s head. The farmer wanted proof of the job’s completion so he released the trap’s mechanism and slung the fallen mother over his shoulder. He has no sympathy to give to the pups and decides that if they had the will to survive they could do so. Gareth began his trek to the farmstead that tasked him with the disposal. Hopefully the pay will be enough to finally purchase a blade he could call his own.
This is a semi-modified re-posting of my previous application in order to meet the small changes requested of me.
OOC:
IGN: Xersues
Age: 16
Time you can dedicate: Whatever time I have left after schoolwork and other activities
Why us?: I was recommended by a friend.
Define Role-Playing in your words: Role-playing is when you change your behavior to take the role of an imagined persona and to act out as that persona would.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Meta-gaming is using information gained OOC and using it to further your Character's gain IC.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-gaming is forcing your character's actions upon someone else's characters without giving them a chance to respond or making your character's power/abilities unreasonable.
Define God-modding in your words: God-modding is when someone’s character has the ability to do most anything without limits or boundaries. An example is when they simply cannot be harmed by any and all means other role players try.
Did you join our website? Yes, I did. I got the outline from it.
IC:
Name: Gareth
Nickname: (N/A)
Age:20
Gender: Male
Appearance: Gareth’s body resembles that of a young farmhand being tanned from spending his days outside wandering and searching for somewhere to call home. His eyes were large, a gateway into his hopeful soul and glistened a beautiful green, sparkling in the sunlight; He has golden brown hair that swayed from his fringe although the length of his hair did not keep the same on the sides of his head. His eyebrows were thicker than most other's would be, but not to an extreme point, which brought attention to his eyes. He kept his chin up as he wandered around on his own, but if he saw somebody else, he intended to keep his head down in an attempt to stay out of trouble.Gareth is reasonably toned although this muscle would not overpower strong men but does at least give him the strength he needs to get around the city. He wears a dark brown overcoat with small silver buttons trailing down one side of the coat; he accompanies this with a dirty white undershirt that looked as if it had not been washed in a long while. Gareth sports black leather boots tied tightly to the top these reach just up to his shin and also seem like they should be cleaned more often he accompanies these with a pair of brown cloth pants that look in surprisingly good condition in comparison to the other pieces of clothing he wears.
Personality:Gareth is a rather introverted, yet kind, and modest person. His mother had raised him to be a respectable person before he left. He is rather private about what has happened in his life and tends to shy away from making acquaintances or speaking to new people. Due to him being very quiet about his past he is not quick to trust others, often preventing him from being used. He is driven in his pursuit for belonging, after he parted ways with the Khans, he has not found another place he could truly call home. Due to this, he is cautious of nearly everyone he comes into contact with.
In-game RP example:A light flickered on, slowly the darkness in the room began to fade away, and a young male was situated on a battered cot near the entrance to the room. There was a small table stationed near the end of the cot. The table had black inky circles from the many times an ink well had been placed upon it. He slowly dipped his quill into the well and waited as the excess ink dripped off the tip. He idly scrolled his quill upon a blank parchment, taking care to make no mistakes while writing. He checked over the letter reading the letter to himself.
“Dear family,
I know I said that I would stay this time, but I can’t manage to find anyone that shares my interest in this place. Actually, to be honest, I have rarely spoken to anyone. I’m sorry that I must burden you with my intolerance to open up to others, but I just don’t believe I’m ready to be on my own. Next year though, that’s when I’ll do it.
Love,
Your son”
He folded the letter in half, and then creased it on the fold. His hand dropped to reach underneath the cot, an envelope met his fingertips, and he lifted the envelope out and laid it out on the desk. He slid the letter into the envelope, folded the top of the envelope over and hopped off the cot. He went to a dresser on the opposite side of the room and pulled the handle of the top drawer. Inside the drawer was a box of matches, a candle, a crimson ball of wax, and a stamp. He pulled the candle and matches out first; he struck one of the matches against the side of the box, and then proceeded to light the candle. He left the candle on the top of the drawer while he pulled out the ball and the stamp. He carried the three items to the desk, dropped the stamp down next to the envelope, and then held the ball over the envelope. He directed the candle’s flame to the underside of the ball, watching the wax drip down over the envelope. Once there was a blob the size of a quarter, he planted the candle onto the desk and rolled the warm ball in his hand until it was its shape was once again round. He slid the wax ball onto the desk and watched as it rolled until it shortly came to a stop. The wax on the envelope was beginning to harden; he took the stamp into his hand and pressed it into the wax, sealing it closed with an elaborate design.
“There we go,” he said appreciating his letter, “time to put it in the mail slot.” He hopped over to his door and grabbed the brass door knob, swung the door open, then made a hard left turn. Without looking as he turned the corner, he bumped into something, dropping his letter. It was the girl from down the hall, embarrassed, he quickly gathered himself. After a quick “Sorry,” he walked past her, towards the mailbox at the end of the hall.
“Hey!” a female’s voice called out. “You dropped your letter.” Hearing this he quickly patted his pockets, realizing it was his letter he scrambled over to her.
“Uh- thank you.” he muttered as his hand clenched around the envelope and he quickly scurried back down the hallway. As he reached the mailbox he paused before putting the envelope inside. He thought of the girl who he’d just met. “Maybe I can wait a little longer before I send this home.” He folded the envelope in half, and then slid it into his coat pocket.
Background: Born to a Desert Ranger and an exiled Follower of the Apocalypse, he learned a lot about both old world knowledge and the brutal survivalist ways of the rangers. When the NCR tried to assimilate the Desert Rangers his father pushed against it, not willing to compromise an honourable history by becoming just another branch of this empirical new government. His points were listened to at first, but gradually the rangers decided it was for the best: they agreed to the treaty. Angered and disillusioned, the Ranger was sent into the NCR's land in order to learn about them, and his superior hoped that in time he would accept them too.
The worst happened when a drug addict wounded the Ranger's son. Not trusting the NCR's justice system, the Ranger immediately killed the man despite the attempted intervention of an NCR lawman. When the officer attempted to arrest the Ranger, he was shot and wounded. Furious at being prosecuted for defending his son and wife the Ranger left the NCR, taking his family out into the Mojave where he hoped they would not reach. In time the NCR established a presence in the desert though, and the Ranger was recognized by a member of the military. In the lawlessness of the Mojave, the lawman, now an NCR soldier, shot the Ranger in vengeance.
His wife, the exiled Follower, attempted to speak out against this injustice, but the soldier's commanding officer would not hear it - the NCR was justice here, what they did was the law. The Ranger's son took his coat and donned it that day, taking along with it his favored handgun, a weapon the Ranger had never named. Knowing that alone against the NCR he could do nothing, the Ranger's son joined the Great Khans for a time, and fell in love with a woman among them.
Unsure of his place in the world, he began to drift apart from the other Khans, disagreeing with some of their more violent and brutal ways, and he left. The woman followed him for a time, but eventually she returned to the Khans, knowing that her place remained with them, while his was elsewhere. The Ranger's son returned home only to find an empty house. Nothing was out of place; no struggle had occurred. His mother was gone, along with many of her things. On the table she had left a book, an old storybook she had read to him as a child, the book that she had taught him to read with. Taking it in hand, he returned to the wastes, now alone but for the mementos of his parents he bore - the coat and the book.
He took to wandering, thinking to travel, learn, and understand the world around him and where he could fit in. He followed Interstate 95 until the road met up with U.S. Route 80. This created a choice for him to make, but after a few minutes pondering which direction to take, he felt something calling to him from the western route. During his trek from the Mojave wasteland down the miles of deteriorated asphalt, Gareth came across many small settlements in his search for a place he could belong. None of the towns had anything that would keep him there longer than it would take to earn enough to eat and drink while he made his journey further towards a place he would at home in.
Nearly a year after he said goodbye to his mother, he arrived at the western coast of the United States, San Francisco. Gareth hoped that this would be the place for him..
They didn't skip you, they are looking over the applications of people that have applied even before you. It just seems like they have been trying to catch up on reviewing apps.
Time you can dedicate: Whatever time I have left after schoolwork and other activities
Why us?: I was recommended by a friend.
Define Role-Playing in your words: Role-playing is when you change your behavior to take the role of an imagined persona and to act out as that persona would.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Meta-gaming is using information gained OOC and using it to further your Character's gain IC.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-gaming is forcing your character's actions upon someone else's characters without giving them a chance to respond or making your character's power/abilities unreasonable.
Define God-modding in your words: God-modding is when someone’s character has the ability to do most anything without limits or boundaries. An example is when they simply cannot be harmed by any and all means other role players try.
Did you join our website? Yes, I did. I got the outline from it.
IC:
Name: Gareth
Nickname: (N/A)
Age:20
Gender: Male
Appearance: Gareth’s body resembles that of a young farmhand being tanned from spending his days outside wandering and searching for somewhere to call home. His eyes were large, a gateway into his hopeful soul and glistened a beautiful green, sparkling in the sunlight; He has golden brown hair that swayed from his fringe although the length of his hair did not keep the same on the sides of his head. His eyebrows were thicker than most other's would be, but not to an extreme point, which brought attention to his eyes. He kept his chin up as he wandered around on his own, but if he saw somebody else, he intended to keep his head down in an attempt to stay out of trouble.Gareth is reasonably toned although this muscle would not overpower strong men but does at least give him the strength he needs to get around the city. He wears a dark brown overcoat with small silver buttons trailing down one side of the coat; he accompanies this with a dirty white undershirt that looked as if it had not been washed in a long while. Gareth sports black leather boots tied tightly to the top these reach just up to his shin and also seem like they should be cleaned more often he accompanies these with a pair of brown cloth pants that look in surprisingly good condition in comparison to the other pieces of clothing he wears.
Personality:Gareth is a rather introverted, yet kind, and modest person. His mother had raised him to be a respectable person before he left. He is rather private about what has happened in his life and tends to shy away from making acquaintances or speaking to new people. Due to him being very quiet about his past he is not quick to trust others, often preventing him from being used.
In-game RP example:A light flickered on, slowly the darkness in the room began to fade away, and a young male was situated on a battered cot near the entrance to the room. There was a small table stationed near the end of the cot. The table had black inky circles from the many times an ink well had been placed upon it. He slowly dipped his quill into the well and waited as the excess ink dripped off the tip. He idly scrolled his quill upon a blank parchment, taking care to make no mistakes while writing. He checked over the letter reading the letter to himself.
“Dear family,
I know I said that I would stay this time, but I can’t manage to find anyone that shares my interest in this place. Actually, to be honest, I have rarely spoken to anyone. I’m sorry that I must burden you with my intolerance to open up to others, but I just don’t believe I’m ready to be on my own. Next year though, that’s when I’ll do it.
Love,
Your son”
He folded the letter in half, and then creased it on the fold. His hand dropped to reach underneath the cot, an envelope met his fingertips, and he lifted the envelope out and laid it out on the desk. He slid the letter into the envelope, folded the top of the envelope over and hopped off the cot. He went to a dresser on the opposite side of the room and pulled the handle of the top drawer. Inside the drawer was a box of matches, a candle, a crimson ball of wax, and a stamp. He pulled the candle and matches out first; he struck one of the matches against the side of the box, and then proceeded to light the candle. He left the candle on the top of the drawer while he pulled out the ball and the stamp. He carried the three items to the desk, dropped the stamp down next to the envelope, and then held the ball over the envelope. He directed the candle’s flame to the underside of the ball, watching the wax drip down over the envelope. Once there was a blob the size of a quarter, he planted the candle onto the desk and rolled the warm ball in his hand until it was its shape was once again round. He slid the wax ball onto the desk and watched as it rolled until it shortly came to a stop. The wax on the envelope was beginning to harden; he took the stamp into his hand and pressed it into the wax, sealing it closed with an elaborate design.
“There we go,” he said appreciating his letter, “time to put it in the mail slot.” He hopped over to his door and grabbed the brass door knob, swung the door open, then made a hard left turn. Without looking as he turned the corner, he bumped into something, dropping his letter. It was the girl from down the hall, embarrassed, he quickly gathered himself. After a quick “Sorry,” he walked past her, towards the mailbox at the end of the hall.
“Hey!” a female’s voice called out. “You dropped your letter.” Hearing this he quickly patted his pockets, realizing it was his letter he scrambled over to her.
“Uh- thank you.” he muttered as his hand clenched around the envelope and he quickly scurried back down the hallway. As he reached the mailbox he paused before putting the envelope inside. He thought of the girl who he’d just met. “Maybe I can wait a little longer before I send this home.” He folded the envelope in half, and then slid it into his coat pocket.
Background: Born to a Desert Ranger and an exiled Follower of the Apocalypse, he learned a lot about both old world knowledge and the brutal survivalist ways of the rangers. When the NCR tried to assimilate the Desert Rangers his father pushed against it, not willing to compromise an honourable history by becoming just another branch of this empirical new government. His points were listened to at first, but gradually the rangers decided it was for the best: they agreed to the treaty. Angered and disillusioned, the Ranger was sent into the NCR's land in order to learn about them, and his superior hoped that in time he would accept them too.
The worst happened when a drug addict wounded the Ranger's son. Not trusting the NCR's justice system, the Ranger immediately killed the man despite the attempted intervention of an NCR lawman. When the officer attempted to arrest the Ranger, he was shot and wounded. Furious at being prosecuted for defending his son and wife the Ranger left the NCR, taking his family out into the Mojave where he hoped they would not reach. In time the NCR established a presence in the desert though, and the Ranger was recognized by a member of the military. In the lawlessness of the Mojave, the lawman, now an NCR soldier, shot the Ranger in vengeance.
His wife, the exiled Follower, attempted to speak out against this injustice, but the soldier's commanding officer would not hear it - the NCR was justice here, what they did was the law. The Ranger's son took his coat and donned it that day, taking along with it his favored handgun, a weapon the Ranger had never named. Knowing that alone against the NCR he could do nothing, the Ranger's son joined the Great Khans for a time, and fell in love with a woman among them.
Unsure of his place in the world, he began to drift apart from the other Khans, disagreeing with some of their more violent and brutal ways, and he left. The woman followed him for a time, but eventually she returned to the Khans, knowing that her place remained with them, while his was elsewhere. The Ranger's son returned home only to find an empty house. Nothing was out of place; no struggle had occurred. His mother was gone, along with many of her things. On the table she had left a book, an old storybook she had read to him as a child, the book that she had taught him to read with. Taking it in hand, he returned to the wastes, now alone but for the mementos of his parents he bore - the coat and the book.
He took to wandering, thinking to travel, learn, and understand the world around him and where he could fit in. He followed Interstate 95 until the road met up with U.S. Route 80. This created a choice for him to make, but after a few minutes pondering which direction to take, he felt something calling to him from the western route. During his trek from the Mojave wasteland down the miles of deteriorated asphalt, Gareth came across many small settlements in his search for a place he could belong. None of the towns had anything that would keep him there longer than it would take to earn enough to eat and drink while he made his journey further towards a place he would at home in.
Nearly a year after he said goodbye to his mother, he arrived at the western coast of the United States, San Francisco. Gareth hoped that this would be the place for him..
Yes, I still enjoy that they had Dale's guts ripped out.
(in character name):
Gideon O'Mallory
Age:
27
Story (atleast 3 sentences):
He lived in with his mother, father, and two brothers on a small patty field off of Dublin, from the age he could walk and talk he began to help his mother to support their living expenses. Though he was only a wee lad he could run a few errands, freeing time for his mother to focus on the important matters at hand, his parents had been saving money for tickets to America. They had planned to leave for America when Gideon was eight years old, though a twister had stuck their home when he was seven, they had to use their saved money to pay for repairs and the medical bills for one of Gideon's older brothers, who had gotten his leg torn apart as the roof caved in. His parents, not being able to afford the tickets for their entire family, sent Gideon and his eldest brother to America
His oldest brother was twenty at the time they arrived in America, he found a cheap apartment that they could rent out. His brother soon found work as an assistant to Dr. Bowing at Medi-Labs. Whenever his brother brought home documents from work, Gideon would sneak out of bed once he was certain his brother had fallen asleep, Gideon studied the information about medicine and diseases each night he was given the opportunity. After many more years, Gideon's hunger for the knowledge in medicine had brought HIM to Medi-Lab, though he did not have the qualifications to enroll as a doctor, he thought to become part of the security team. He joined the security staff, led by a vodka-guzzling Russian named Vladimir Kuznak. Gideon was assigned the night shifts, as he patrolled the facility,many times did his sticky fingers find their way onto many reportedly missing documents. He had a stash hidden in the apartment him and his brother had been living in, until his brother died while trying to help find a cure for a strange disease that the doctors had been examining.
He went to work early the day of the outbreak, Vladimir was still in the facility, Gideon was trying to find him so he could tell him that he would be taking time off of work due to his recent loss. He saw Vladimir run down one of the halls, followed by a few doctors.. Then he saw the zombies. Gideon panicked, he jumped over an operation table and crouched down. Hands trembling, he un-holstered his gun, issued to him for the security work at the facility. He checked to see if it was loaded, then he crept back out of the room, looked down both ends of the hallway, then begin running in the direction he last saw Vladimir..
Why do you want to be a part of this server? I love the whole steam punk idea, it's one of my favorite things to roleplay.
Have you read the rules? Yes
IC:
Name: Baron Von Carlton
Age: 34
RP example: A strange hooded man walks into Duren's shop, he wears a hood and a long jacket inspecting all the steam drills and mining equipment.
Duren: Ye' looking to buy something or ye' just gonna stare me down with yer' goggles, Lad?
Strange Man: Call me Carlton, And -picks up expensive drill- Would you recommend this as... a weapon?
Duren: Are ye' a cop? Or are ye' stupid these drills Ar' made fir' them minings and such.
Carlton: No I am not a cop, I am Baron Von Carlton and I am quite rich But I need a weapon.
Duren: Ye' looking to kill someone?
Carlton: Maybe so, Sir, I ask again is this a good weapon?
Duren: Come with me Lad, -presses hidden button and a secret hatch opens up-
Carlton: Whats this?
Duren Ye' tell anyone Yer dead, Lad.
-they both walk into a room lined with new types of steamguns and coal powered weapons-
Duren: Prices are expensive pick something pay and leave.
Carlton: Wow, No wonder you keep a tight shift up top. -picks up a pistol that runs on steam.
Duren Nice choice, It's 300 pay me and leave.
-The man pays and leaves, Duren closes up the hatch and seals it back up-
Bio: Little von Carlton was born into a life of leisure and luxury, all due to his father's great success on the black market. Carlton had everything a nine year old boy could have ever dreamed of, toys, games, and model airships. While little Carlton was running around in his father's mansion, pretending his small model airship was real, his father was speeding through the air as the law enforcement tailed him. Aboard his ship was the largest shipment he's ever carried, he couldn't lose it to the feds. Little Carlton ran up to his father's office to ask him if he wanted to play, the door was shut, and a note taped on. The note told Carlton that his father may not come home and he would need Carlton to stay inside no matter what, if the cops knocked on the door, he was to go into the office and go under the desk, where a button was located. Carlton was very confused, he opened the door to his father's office and saw papers scattered all around the floor and desk. Carlton dropped his toy and began to crawl towards the desk, but something caught his attention. His father's ship zipped past his office window and sirens began to grow louder, then three police ships flew past the window in pursuit of his father. Carlton screamed for his father, then Carlton heard the doorbell and a few knocks on the door.
"Police, open up!" A cop shouted through the door. Carlton immediately dropped to the ground and crawled under the desk. He couldn't find the button, he flailed his arms around, hoping he might hit it. As Carlton panicked to find the button, he could hear the pounding of a police battering ram against the door. Every time he heard the pounding his heart stopped, his hands began shaking, he needed to clear his mind, there wasn't enough room under the desk, he tried to crawl out from under, but his shirt got caught on the drawer. As the drawer slid open he could see a glowing red light underneath the desk. He popped his back under the desk, there it was, he slammed the back of hand into the button, the floor slide out from under him, he fall into a safe room below.
"God damn it, I hope Carlton made it to the safe house in my office" His father thought to himself as he looked at a picture of Carlton on his dashboard. The police were right behind him, there was no shaking them, he knew he wouldn't ever be able to see his son again. He pulled straight of, the police followed, then.. His ship stalled and he began to fall to the earth. As he was falling he held the picture of his son close, as he wished he could tell Carlton how sorry he was for bringing him into this life. When Carlton hit the ground of the safe room, the hatch above him shut and sealed tight, dim lights turned on, the room was full of guns, money, piles of important looking documents, and a good amount of non-spoiling foods. A folded paper fell from the ceiling and landed in front of Carlton. He unfolded the note, it read: "Carlton my son, if I've told you, that you needed to come to this safe room, then I will most likely never be coming back. I leave to you my entire business, it is up to you what you want to do with it, I'm sorry and I hope you know that I love you dearly, your father." Carlton's eyes began to tear up, he didn't understand why his father wouldn't come back, he stood up and walked over to the papers, he looked at the one on top. It was a list of clients that Carlton's father supplied, first on the list was man named Duren Steambeard..
Additional info: Zimmeme recommended me to this server.
I believe I was unfairly banned by a moderator/admin. I was walking in the mojave then some guy said I'm sorry I have to do this, just cause I was legion. He didn't tell me why or what I did. Nor did he show me any proof.
Role-Play Exp.: A fair amount of Rp has been done by me
Why Us: I was recommended by Zimmeme
Time You Can Dedicate: 2+ hours a day (5 days a week)
IC
Name: Vincentius Arulius
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Appearance: He is usually wearing his legionary outfit, including the helmet
Fears: I was trained to fear nothing, but I do fear death.
Personality: Hardened, Vindictive, Loyal,
Occupation: Caesar's Legion Recruit
Skills: Strong, battle-hardened, knows how to capture slaves, some-what intelligent.
Nickname (Optional): NONE
RP Example (Add Dialogue): Three Recruits and I were sent to enslave a caravan. We are hiding behind some dunes waiting for the right time to strike. ME: *whispers* Alright guys, on three... One... Recruit 1: But what if they are anticipating us!? ME: Man up, you weren't trained to cower, you were trained to fight and serve the legion. Alright, now that, that is all clear.. ONE.. TWO... THREE!! *war shouts* CARAVANERS: What the hell is that!? Oh ****, it's the legion, we gotta get the **** out of here! ME: Don't let them get away! The second recruit hurled his javalin through one of the bodyguard's back. ME: Surrender your weapons and render unto Caesar or feel or prepare to feel our steel. *all the caravan people threw their weapons to the side of the path* *the second recruit and third went and gathered them up* *BANG* One of the caravan bodyguards had a 10mm in his hand, which was smoking. I ran up to him and cut that bastards arm off, then I checked to see who he shot, the first recruit was still on the ground.. Coward got what he deserved, in my opinion.
Backstory (1-2 LONG paragraphs): Born and raised as a legionnaire I was trained to never back down, it didn't matter if I ended up dead or alive, as long as the day was won. The training was hard, but nothing I couldn't handle. For those who did not comply or disobeyed the laws of the legion were whipped or crucified, left for the others to see, so we would learn from their mistakes and become better soldiers of war. We struck great fear into all of the Mojave, wherever we went. One day when I was sent off on a mission with Decanus Claudius and some other recruits, we were ambushed by NCR. there were three of them for every one of us, we held our grand, I saw Claudius tearing through them with his war machete. Many good legion soldiers died, I thought I too, was dead.. Until some man woke me up when he was trying to scavenge me. He brought me to a town, Nipton, I saw a giant dinosaur with a secretive looking man with a sniper, cautiously watching as the man brought me to the motel. After several days I was ready to set off on my own, I didn't believe I would be able to show my face to the legion again, so I wandered the Mojave. Many weeks.. maybe months passed, I was starting to get used to the life out in the desert. Sometimes traveling caravans would spare me some food, I told them I was not a charity cause, then I proceeded to slice them into finely chopped pieces and took all their cargo. I slept on a makeshift mat, made of brahmin leather. I woke to the sound of guns firing and metal clanging. I peered over a rock, it was my old friend and leader, Decanus Claudius, he was wearing a wonderful set of armor, it almost looked like legate armor, I thought to myself. He saw me and told me to come out and leave all my possessions behind the rock. I don't believe he recognized me, but after he chained me up, I started to explain what happened, he quickly told the guards to unchain me, as he welcomed me back into the legion.
-*Have you read, understood, and agreed to the rules? What about the lore?
Yes, I have read it all and fully understand.
-If you could change any of the Server rules, which ones would you change?
None, they all seem completely realistic and following them shouldn't be hard.
-*Do you believe that you are trustworthy?
Yes, I believe I am completely trustworthy
-*What will you contribute to the server?
I can build really good walls houses and roads.
-*How old are you?
14 (turning 15 in September)
-About how often are you on minecraft during the week?
Almost every day.
-How long have you played minecraft?
I have been playing since early Alpha.
-What do you know about roleplaying? How long have you been doing it? What kind?
I have been RPing for about 2 years and have done RPing in WoW and in other MC servers also on some ForumsRP
-What do you expect this server will be like?
Awesome!:tongue.gif:
-*Character Name
Synestrio
-*What is your Race?
Elf
-*Biography
Synestrio was a young boy when his Father left to go on Templar crusades. His Father told him that he needs to be the man now and protect his Mother and to be a good boy while he is gone. His Mother was struggling to support the two of them. Synestrio thought if he could find a few seeds out in the woods he could bring them back so he could grow some wheat to help his mother. While he was out looking for seeds he saw a bird in an oak tree singing a beautiful tune. He got caught in the bird's melody and became oblivious to his surroundings. It must have been only a few minutes, he thought to himself as he snapped out of the bird's hypnotic song. He had to get back home, the sun was setting and he realized he had been gone many hours past the time he was to be home. He heard a man shouting as he neared his house, he peered through the window to see his uncle with a mug full of mead stomping around and pushing his mother. She was yelling at him to stop as he started to get closer to her. Little Synestrio climbed up a stack of crates and jumped through the window. His Uncle did not hear him jump into the house. Synestrio crawled underneath the table and reached on top to find the knife they used to cut the pork chops. He held it close to his chest and started to pray that his uncle would stay away from his mother and the knife would not have to be used. Synestrio's hopes were gone once he saw his uncle pick up a bowl from the table and smashed it across his mother's face. She fell to the ground like a rag doll and shattered bits of the clay bowl shot all around the room. He knew if he didn't do something his drunk uncle would really hurt his mother. Synestrio jumped up from under the table and stabbed the knife into his uncle's right collarbone. He heard the bone shatter underneath his uncle's skin. His uncles let out a wail of agony as he reached for the sword on his back. Synestrio but his uncle's hand and took the sword before his uncles had a chance to recover from the deep bloody mess on his hand from the bite. His uncle soon realized that his sword was gone, he backed up into the corner and started to beg the lord for forgiveness. Synestrio did not have the heart to harm his uncle any further. He offered the sword back to his uncle and told him he had to leave. As he was walking out towards the door, he turned around and told Synestrio to take his sword, he wanted him to learn how to use it so he could protect his Mother from monsters like him. Years passed, Synestrio was about twenty in human years and many years back, his Father's armor was sent back, not on his father though, in a container that came along-side a coffin. The armor sat display in the middle of the house, it was so they would always remember his Father for the brave man they knew he was. A friend of his father came one day, to pay respects. As he was leaving, he told Synestrio to get out of town, he heard that the bandits were in the area and they were looking for fresh blood and loot. Synestrio knew he had to leave to protect his Mother, but she wouldn't listen to him. She was born in that house and she said if she were to die, she would want it to be in that house, with the soul of his father. They conversed for the whole night, Synestrio was growing tired, yet his Mother seemed relentless. She was telling him that he needed to leave and she would stay in that house and try to protect herself. As he was going to sleep, he heard something in the living room, where his Father's armor was kept on display. It was a seductive whisper coming from all sides of the house. They were telling him to take the armor and leave. He couldn't just walk out on his Mother, could he? He walked to his room, took his sword from the chest he kept by his bed, you could hear his Mother crying from a mile away, she knew he would have left, his blood was restless, just as his Father's was. He was out for blood and it didn't matter who's it was.
-Can your character read or write?
As reading came naturally to him he learned to write just as well.
-Can your character mine?
He has the strength to mine, but prefers to explore the caves, rather than mine his own tunnels.
-Are you a capable builder?
Synestrio has spent countless hours studying the books and journals of master architects, giving him a great sense of construction.
-Can you wield a sword?
Synestrio owns a Broadsword which he had gotten from his uncle while he was leaving after assaulting Synestrio's Mother.
He is proficient with it but strives to learn more.
-Do they enjoy Farming?
He is not fond of the time wasted on it, yet he has some skill in it.
-Does your character have any special skills?
He taught himself how to build and design like the great architects did, he adds his own flare to everything he does. He is also a good sneak and could take someone out while they are still unprepared.
-A screenshot of your skin
I don't have one at the moment but, he has a cross on his front and back since he took his father's armor. His ears are Elf-like and he seems to be happy (probably the elf in him)
-Other Information
I've included everything I think you need to know for my Application.
-Why do you want to join this server?:It seems like a lot of fun. I also am a big fan of the Total War series and want to make strong cities
-What previous servers have you been on? Kingdom of Aeonis
-Are you still part of them? If not, why? Yes, it's a good rp pvp server, with many friends and enemies. I have learned how to be better at Rping from them.
-Why we should whitelist you?: I think I would be able to help people and build great structures or empires.
-Have you ever been banned?Yes
-If so, why?As a misunderstanding when a moderator abusing his powers as soon as he got them, he started kicking and banning people left and right.
-Have you read/agree to the rules?: Yes
-Do you think you may donate at one point?If I can persuade my mom or dad to let me.
-How much time could you be on the server weekly?:I would usually be on 2-3 hours a day.
-How long have you played minecraft?:Since Alpha came out
-[b]Photograph or deep description of skin. (If we find you with an irrevelant skin, you will be told. If you argue, you will be kicked.):I have a elven skin. I have a cross on my front and back because I am a Templar on another server.
$@$
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----OOC Info----
-Minecraft IGN: Xersues
-Skype name (Optional, for server OOC chat): N/A
-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example? Yes. Predominantly the Kingdom of Aeonis MC server along with a few others such as: Fallout: Sins of Our Fathers, Fallout: Ashes of Our Fathers, and Akavir, and a small bit of D&D.
-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Power-gaming is having an obvious advantage over other players or events, mostly in combat. For example, a player causing another player’s character to die or become wounded instantly not allowing for a reaction from the other player.
-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Meta-gaming is using knowledge obtained out of character, and using it in character to gain an advantage. An example would be: having a friend on Skype tell you where something is happening, and traveling there on purpose.
----IC Info----
-Character name: Gareth Rose
-Character race: Human
-Character age: 22
-Character Occupation (optional, note you still must talk to the lord about loaning or purchasing any stall/shop for your character if he/she would have one. Also be sure to give previous applications a glance before deciding your job, we don't need 5 bartenders!): Aspiring sell ”sword” / Barkamsted military
-Character description (At least one to two paragraphs describing your character’s visual appearance.): Gareth is a young human man, with a build a fair bit above average, standing at 6'4". Given his height and muscular definition, he does not possess a lean but rather a more athletic frame. He has straight, dark brown hair that falls flat above his gunmetal blue eyes. Gareth is frequently training his body so he may face the wilds outside of Barkamsted. He wears simple clothes, a light brown tunic and leather pants, due to his lack of work and motivation for possessions that will not aid his goal.
-Character personality and traits (At least one to two paragraphs describing their personality traits and/or quirks.): Gareth is a confident young man, with big aspirations. He wishes to bring the humans back to their former glory, which can lead members of differing races to see him as partially bigoted. Despite being large and possessing a commanding voice, Gareth tends to keep to himself as he is too entwined in his own personal aspirations to divide his time to others. Due to his time in the forests Gareth has acquired a knack for reacting to surprises. Due to his self-isolation on personal matters he remains without any close friends and a lack of group cooperation and coordination.
-Character biography(At least three paragraphs describing your character's history and experiences):
Gareth was born in and grew up in the village of Barkamsted, not too far from the center of town. He’s fairly educated and came from a good family, although he’s had a taste for getting himself in over his head as a child. His Uncle Varis, a soldier who helped others flee from the invading onslaught of the pact, told him stories of the fallback and the once mighty empire that the humans had held. These stories made the Gareth curious about seeing such a world for himself. Gareth saw himself seeking fame and fortune outside the safety of the town’s walls. He hoped to recreate the glory that his uncle described in his tales.
Once he was ten years old, Gareth's uncle went missing after travelling out into the wilds. His mother became depressed and tried the best she could to dissuade Gareth from following in his uncle’s tracks. Instead of heading his mother’s wishes Gareth began working his body, watching the training routines of the guards, and pushing himself past their standards. He eventually found a way to make money as he grew older, completing requests. As time passed Gareth realized that he loved the thrill of travelling outside of the town, the rush of adrenaline that hit him whenever danger crept up on him. The main issue with this was his lack of protection outside of his own body. Gareth did not possess the wealth to come by much in the way of armor and for a weapon all he had was a short metal bar.
Now into adulthood, Gareth is wholeheartedly dedicated to gathering enough coin to acquire a blade that he can depend on as he travels outside the town. One that he could clash swords with the orcs his uncle’s stories had detailed. However, he seemed to have a problem of misappropriating his coin. He spent almost as much as he brought in completing various tasks as he did preparing for them. Gareth has sworn his life to travelling outside of Barkamsted and defeating the Pact, but there may now be more pressing matters.
-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.
After walking through the markets for a few minutes Gareth reaches his destination. He stands in awe gawking at the smith’s stall as he admires the fine blades the man has crafted. Realizing that his purse was being lifted Gareth let out a commanding "Hey!" as he scanned his immediate surrounding to spot the child dashing away. Gareth runs in the direction of the child, yelling for him to stop. As the child weaves through the crowds Gareth’s large body is contrastingly bashing into others as he apologizes while attempting to keep sight on the child. He begins to slow down to a halt, realizing that his pursuit is pointless and with the loss of his purse Gareth begins his walk back to the smith’s stall. Defeated, he gives the blades a final glance before heading home.
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.
His ears perking up at the sound of whining in the distance. Gareth carefully makes his way through the brush of the forest to spot a wolf snared in the trap he had set earlier that week. This was the sort of work Gareth did when he needed money. A local farmer had said that his livestock was being threatened by the abundance of nearby wolves. He carefully approaches the wolf family. Noting that the mother seemed to be fully immobilized he began to move closer, a heavy rock in hand. Slowly creeping his way to wolf, he raised the rock up above his head with both hands wrapped around it to give the impending impact added force. Ignoring the snarls from the wolf, Gareth is now within striking distance when he notices the three smaller lumps of fur. He pauses for a moment, mentally apologizes for his actions, and swings his arms down over the mother’s head. The farmer wanted proof of the job’s completion so he released the trap’s mechanism and slung the fallen mother over his shoulder. He has no sympathy to give to the pups and decides that if they had the will to survive they could do so. Gareth began his trek to the farmstead that tasked him with the disposal. Hopefully the pay will be enough to finally purchase a blade he could call his own.
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OOC:
IGN: Xersues
Age: 16
Time you can dedicate: Whatever time I have left after schoolwork and other activities
Why us?: I was recommended by a friend.
Define Role-Playing in your words: Role-playing is when you change your behavior to take the role of an imagined persona and to act out as that persona would.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Meta-gaming is using information gained OOC and using it to further your Character's gain IC.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-gaming is forcing your character's actions upon someone else's characters without giving them a chance to respond or making your character's power/abilities unreasonable.
Define God-modding in your words: God-modding is when someone’s character has the ability to do most anything without limits or boundaries. An example is when they simply cannot be harmed by any and all means other role players try.
Did you join our website? Yes, I did. I got the outline from it.
IC:
Name: Gareth
Nickname: (N/A)
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Appearance: Gareth’s body resembles that of a young farmhand being tanned from spending his days outside wandering and searching for somewhere to call home. His eyes were large, a gateway into his hopeful soul and glistened a beautiful green, sparkling in the sunlight; He has golden brown hair that swayed from his fringe although the length of his hair did not keep the same on the sides of his head. His eyebrows were thicker than most other's would be, but not to an extreme point, which brought attention to his eyes. He kept his chin up as he wandered around on his own, but if he saw somebody else, he intended to keep his head down in an attempt to stay out of trouble.Gareth is reasonably toned although this muscle would not overpower strong men but does at least give him the strength he needs to get around the city. He wears a dark brown overcoat with small silver buttons trailing down one side of the coat; he accompanies this with a dirty white undershirt that looked as if it had not been washed in a long while. Gareth sports black leather boots tied tightly to the top these reach just up to his shin and also seem like they should be cleaned more often he accompanies these with a pair of brown cloth pants that look in surprisingly good condition in comparison to the other pieces of clothing he wears.
Personality:Gareth is a rather introverted, yet kind, and modest person. His mother had raised him to be a respectable person before he left. He is rather private about what has happened in his life and tends to shy away from making acquaintances or speaking to new people. Due to him being very quiet about his past he is not quick to trust others, often preventing him from being used. He is driven in his pursuit for belonging, after he parted ways with the Khans, he has not found another place he could truly call home. Due to this, he is cautious of nearly everyone he comes into contact with.
In-game RP example: A light flickered on, slowly the darkness in the room began to fade away, and a young male was situated on a battered cot near the entrance to the room. There was a small table stationed near the end of the cot. The table had black inky circles from the many times an ink well had been placed upon it. He slowly dipped his quill into the well and waited as the excess ink dripped off the tip. He idly scrolled his quill upon a blank parchment, taking care to make no mistakes while writing. He checked over the letter reading the letter to himself.
“Dear family,
I know I said that I would stay this time, but I can’t manage to find anyone that shares my interest in this place. Actually, to be honest, I have rarely spoken to anyone. I’m sorry that I must burden you with my intolerance to open up to others, but I just don’t believe I’m ready to be on my own. Next year though, that’s when I’ll do it.
He folded the letter in half, and then creased it on the fold. His hand dropped to reach underneath the cot, an envelope met his fingertips, and he lifted the envelope out and laid it out on the desk. He slid the letter into the envelope, folded the top of the envelope over and hopped off the cot. He went to a dresser on the opposite side of the room and pulled the handle of the top drawer. Inside the drawer was a box of matches, a candle, a crimson ball of wax, and a stamp. He pulled the candle and matches out first; he struck one of the matches against the side of the box, and then proceeded to light the candle. He left the candle on the top of the drawer while he pulled out the ball and the stamp. He carried the three items to the desk, dropped the stamp down next to the envelope, and then held the ball over the envelope. He directed the candle’s flame to the underside of the ball, watching the wax drip down over the envelope. Once there was a blob the size of a quarter, he planted the candle onto the desk and rolled the warm ball in his hand until it was its shape was once again round. He slid the wax ball onto the desk and watched as it rolled until it shortly came to a stop. The wax on the envelope was beginning to harden; he took the stamp into his hand and pressed it into the wax, sealing it closed with an elaborate design.
“There we go,” he said appreciating his letter, “time to put it in the mail slot.” He hopped over to his door and grabbed the brass door knob, swung the door open, then made a hard left turn. Without looking as he turned the corner, he bumped into something, dropping his letter. It was the girl from down the hall, embarrassed, he quickly gathered himself. After a quick “Sorry,” he walked past her, towards the mailbox at the end of the hall.
“Hey!” a female’s voice called out. “You dropped your letter.” Hearing this he quickly patted his pockets, realizing it was his letter he scrambled over to her.
“Uh- thank you.” he muttered as his hand clenched around the envelope and he quickly scurried back down the hallway. As he reached the mailbox he paused before putting the envelope inside. He thought of the girl who he’d just met. “Maybe I can wait a little longer before I send this home.” He folded the envelope in half, and then slid it into his coat pocket.
Background: Born to a Desert Ranger and an exiled Follower of the Apocalypse, he learned a lot about both old world knowledge and the brutal survivalist ways of the rangers. When the NCR tried to assimilate the Desert Rangers his father pushed against it, not willing to compromise an honourable history by becoming just another branch of this empirical new government. His points were listened to at first, but gradually the rangers decided it was for the best: they agreed to the treaty. Angered and disillusioned, the Ranger was sent into the NCR's land in order to learn about them, and his superior hoped that in time he would accept them too.
The worst happened when a drug addict wounded the Ranger's son. Not trusting the NCR's justice system, the Ranger immediately killed the man despite the attempted intervention of an NCR lawman. When the officer attempted to arrest the Ranger, he was shot and wounded. Furious at being prosecuted for defending his son and wife the Ranger left the NCR, taking his family out into the Mojave where he hoped they would not reach. In time the NCR established a presence in the desert though, and the Ranger was recognized by a member of the military. In the lawlessness of the Mojave, the lawman, now an NCR soldier, shot the Ranger in vengeance.
His wife, the exiled Follower, attempted to speak out against this injustice, but the soldier's commanding officer would not hear it - the NCR was justice here, what they did was the law. The Ranger's son took his coat and donned it that day, taking along with it his favored handgun, a weapon the Ranger had never named. Knowing that alone against the NCR he could do nothing, the Ranger's son joined the Great Khans for a time, and fell in love with a woman among them.
Unsure of his place in the world, he began to drift apart from the other Khans, disagreeing with some of their more violent and brutal ways, and he left. The woman followed him for a time, but eventually she returned to the Khans, knowing that her place remained with them, while his was elsewhere. The Ranger's son returned home only to find an empty house. Nothing was out of place; no struggle had occurred. His mother was gone, along with many of her things. On the table she had left a book, an old storybook she had read to him as a child, the book that she had taught him to read with. Taking it in hand, he returned to the wastes, now alone but for the mementos of his parents he bore - the coat and the book.
He took to wandering, thinking to travel, learn, and understand the world around him and where he could fit in. He followed Interstate 95 until the road met up with U.S. Route 80. This created a choice for him to make, but after a few minutes pondering which direction to take, he felt something calling to him from the western route. During his trek from the Mojave wasteland down the miles of deteriorated asphalt, Gareth came across many small settlements in his search for a place he could belong. None of the towns had anything that would keep him there longer than it would take to earn enough to eat and drink while he made his journey further towards a place he would at home in.
Nearly a year after he said goodbye to his mother, he arrived at the western coast of the United States, San Francisco. Gareth hoped that this would be the place for him..
Powers up Vault-Boy 3000
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IGN: Xersues
Age: 16
Time you can dedicate: Whatever time I have left after schoolwork and other activities
Why us?: I was recommended by a friend.
Define Role-Playing in your words: Role-playing is when you change your behavior to take the role of an imagined persona and to act out as that persona would.
Define Meta-gaming in your words: Meta-gaming is using information gained OOC and using it to further your Character's gain IC.
Define Power-gaming in your words: Power-gaming is forcing your character's actions upon someone else's characters without giving them a chance to respond or making your character's power/abilities unreasonable.
Define God-modding in your words: God-modding is when someone’s character has the ability to do most anything without limits or boundaries. An example is when they simply cannot be harmed by any and all means other role players try.
Did you join our website? Yes, I did. I got the outline from it.
IC:
Name: Gareth
Nickname: (N/A)
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Appearance: Gareth’s body resembles that of a young farmhand being tanned from spending his days outside wandering and searching for somewhere to call home. His eyes were large, a gateway into his hopeful soul and glistened a beautiful green, sparkling in the sunlight; He has golden brown hair that swayed from his fringe although the length of his hair did not keep the same on the sides of his head. His eyebrows were thicker than most other's would be, but not to an extreme point, which brought attention to his eyes. He kept his chin up as he wandered around on his own, but if he saw somebody else, he intended to keep his head down in an attempt to stay out of trouble.Gareth is reasonably toned although this muscle would not overpower strong men but does at least give him the strength he needs to get around the city. He wears a dark brown overcoat with small silver buttons trailing down one side of the coat; he accompanies this with a dirty white undershirt that looked as if it had not been washed in a long while. Gareth sports black leather boots tied tightly to the top these reach just up to his shin and also seem like they should be cleaned more often he accompanies these with a pair of brown cloth pants that look in surprisingly good condition in comparison to the other pieces of clothing he wears.
Personality:Gareth is a rather introverted, yet kind, and modest person. His mother had raised him to be a respectable person before he left. He is rather private about what has happened in his life and tends to shy away from making acquaintances or speaking to new people. Due to him being very quiet about his past he is not quick to trust others, often preventing him from being used.
In-game RP example: A light flickered on, slowly the darkness in the room began to fade away, and a young male was situated on a battered cot near the entrance to the room. There was a small table stationed near the end of the cot. The table had black inky circles from the many times an ink well had been placed upon it. He slowly dipped his quill into the well and waited as the excess ink dripped off the tip. He idly scrolled his quill upon a blank parchment, taking care to make no mistakes while writing. He checked over the letter reading the letter to himself.
“Dear family,
I know I said that I would stay this time, but I can’t manage to find anyone that shares my interest in this place. Actually, to be honest, I have rarely spoken to anyone. I’m sorry that I must burden you with my intolerance to open up to others, but I just don’t believe I’m ready to be on my own. Next year though, that’s when I’ll do it.
He folded the letter in half, and then creased it on the fold. His hand dropped to reach underneath the cot, an envelope met his fingertips, and he lifted the envelope out and laid it out on the desk. He slid the letter into the envelope, folded the top of the envelope over and hopped off the cot. He went to a dresser on the opposite side of the room and pulled the handle of the top drawer. Inside the drawer was a box of matches, a candle, a crimson ball of wax, and a stamp. He pulled the candle and matches out first; he struck one of the matches against the side of the box, and then proceeded to light the candle. He left the candle on the top of the drawer while he pulled out the ball and the stamp. He carried the three items to the desk, dropped the stamp down next to the envelope, and then held the ball over the envelope. He directed the candle’s flame to the underside of the ball, watching the wax drip down over the envelope. Once there was a blob the size of a quarter, he planted the candle onto the desk and rolled the warm ball in his hand until it was its shape was once again round. He slid the wax ball onto the desk and watched as it rolled until it shortly came to a stop. The wax on the envelope was beginning to harden; he took the stamp into his hand and pressed it into the wax, sealing it closed with an elaborate design.
“There we go,” he said appreciating his letter, “time to put it in the mail slot.” He hopped over to his door and grabbed the brass door knob, swung the door open, then made a hard left turn. Without looking as he turned the corner, he bumped into something, dropping his letter. It was the girl from down the hall, embarrassed, he quickly gathered himself. After a quick “Sorry,” he walked past her, towards the mailbox at the end of the hall.
“Hey!” a female’s voice called out. “You dropped your letter.” Hearing this he quickly patted his pockets, realizing it was his letter he scrambled over to her.
“Uh- thank you.” he muttered as his hand clenched around the envelope and he quickly scurried back down the hallway. As he reached the mailbox he paused before putting the envelope inside. He thought of the girl who he’d just met. “Maybe I can wait a little longer before I send this home.” He folded the envelope in half, and then slid it into his coat pocket.
Background: Born to a Desert Ranger and an exiled Follower of the Apocalypse, he learned a lot about both old world knowledge and the brutal survivalist ways of the rangers. When the NCR tried to assimilate the Desert Rangers his father pushed against it, not willing to compromise an honourable history by becoming just another branch of this empirical new government. His points were listened to at first, but gradually the rangers decided it was for the best: they agreed to the treaty. Angered and disillusioned, the Ranger was sent into the NCR's land in order to learn about them, and his superior hoped that in time he would accept them too.
The worst happened when a drug addict wounded the Ranger's son. Not trusting the NCR's justice system, the Ranger immediately killed the man despite the attempted intervention of an NCR lawman. When the officer attempted to arrest the Ranger, he was shot and wounded. Furious at being prosecuted for defending his son and wife the Ranger left the NCR, taking his family out into the Mojave where he hoped they would not reach. In time the NCR established a presence in the desert though, and the Ranger was recognized by a member of the military. In the lawlessness of the Mojave, the lawman, now an NCR soldier, shot the Ranger in vengeance.
His wife, the exiled Follower, attempted to speak out against this injustice, but the soldier's commanding officer would not hear it - the NCR was justice here, what they did was the law. The Ranger's son took his coat and donned it that day, taking along with it his favored handgun, a weapon the Ranger had never named. Knowing that alone against the NCR he could do nothing, the Ranger's son joined the Great Khans for a time, and fell in love with a woman among them.
Unsure of his place in the world, he began to drift apart from the other Khans, disagreeing with some of their more violent and brutal ways, and he left. The woman followed him for a time, but eventually she returned to the Khans, knowing that her place remained with them, while his was elsewhere. The Ranger's son returned home only to find an empty house. Nothing was out of place; no struggle had occurred. His mother was gone, along with many of her things. On the table she had left a book, an old storybook she had read to him as a child, the book that she had taught him to read with. Taking it in hand, he returned to the wastes, now alone but for the mementos of his parents he bore - the coat and the book.
He took to wandering, thinking to travel, learn, and understand the world around him and where he could fit in. He followed Interstate 95 until the road met up with U.S. Route 80. This created a choice for him to make, but after a few minutes pondering which direction to take, he felt something calling to him from the western route. During his trek from the Mojave wasteland down the miles of deteriorated asphalt, Gareth came across many small settlements in his search for a place he could belong. None of the towns had anything that would keep him there longer than it would take to earn enough to eat and drink while he made his journey further towards a place he would at home in.
Nearly a year after he said goodbye to his mother, he arrived at the western coast of the United States, San Francisco. Gareth hoped that this would be the place for him..
Powers up Vault-Boy 3000
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Age:
Do you watch the show?
Age:
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IGN: Xersues
Age: 14
Why do you want to be a part of this server? I love the whole steam punk idea, it's one of my favorite things to roleplay.
Have you read the rules? Yes
IC:
Name: Baron Von Carlton
Age: 34
RP example: A strange hooded man walks into Duren's shop, he wears a hood and a long jacket inspecting all the steam drills and mining equipment.
Duren: Ye' looking to buy something or ye' just gonna stare me down with yer' goggles, Lad?
Strange Man: Call me Carlton, And -picks up expensive drill- Would you recommend this as... a weapon?
Duren: Are ye' a cop? Or are ye' stupid these drills Ar' made fir' them minings and such.
Carlton: No I am not a cop, I am Baron Von Carlton and I am quite rich But I need a weapon.
Duren: Ye' looking to kill someone?
Carlton: Maybe so, Sir, I ask again is this a good weapon?
Duren: Come with me Lad, -presses hidden button and a secret hatch opens up-
Carlton: Whats this?
Duren Ye' tell anyone Yer dead, Lad.
-they both walk into a room lined with new types of steamguns and coal powered weapons-
Duren: Prices are expensive pick something pay and leave.
Carlton: Wow, No wonder you keep a tight shift up top. -picks up a pistol that runs on steam.
Duren Nice choice, It's 300 pay me and leave.
-The man pays and leaves, Duren closes up the hatch and seals it back up-
Bio: Little von Carlton was born into a life of leisure and luxury, all due to his father's great success on the black market. Carlton had everything a nine year old boy could have ever dreamed of, toys, games, and model airships. While little Carlton was running around in his father's mansion, pretending his small model airship was real, his father was speeding through the air as the law enforcement tailed him. Aboard his ship was the largest shipment he's ever carried, he couldn't lose it to the feds. Little Carlton ran up to his father's office to ask him if he wanted to play, the door was shut, and a note taped on. The note told Carlton that his father may not come home and he would need Carlton to stay inside no matter what, if the cops knocked on the door, he was to go into the office and go under the desk, where a button was located. Carlton was very confused, he opened the door to his father's office and saw papers scattered all around the floor and desk. Carlton dropped his toy and began to crawl towards the desk, but something caught his attention. His father's ship zipped past his office window and sirens began to grow louder, then three police ships flew past the window in pursuit of his father. Carlton screamed for his father, then Carlton heard the doorbell and a few knocks on the door.
"God damn it, I hope Carlton made it to the safe house in my office" His father thought to himself as he looked at a picture of Carlton on his dashboard. The police were right behind him, there was no shaking them, he knew he wouldn't ever be able to see his son again. He pulled straight of, the police followed, then.. His ship stalled and he began to fall to the earth. As he was falling he held the picture of his son close, as he wished he could tell Carlton how sorry he was for bringing him into this life. When Carlton hit the ground of the safe room, the hatch above him shut and sealed tight, dim lights turned on, the room was full of guns, money, piles of important looking documents, and a good amount of non-spoiling foods. A folded paper fell from the ceiling and landed in front of Carlton. He unfolded the note, it read: "Carlton my son, if I've told you, that you needed to come to this safe room, then I will most likely never be coming back. I leave to you my entire business, it is up to you what you want to do with it, I'm sorry and I hope you know that I love you dearly, your father." Carlton's eyes began to tear up, he didn't understand why his father wouldn't come back, he stood up and walked over to the papers, he looked at the one on top. It was a list of clients that Carlton's father supplied, first on the list was man named Duren Steambeard..
Additional info: Zimmeme recommended me to this server.
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IGN: Xersues
Age: 15
Role-Play Exp.: A fair amount of Rp has been done by me
Why Us: I was recommended by Zimmeme
Time You Can Dedicate: 2+ hours a day (5 days a week)
IC
Name: Vincentius Arulius
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Appearance: He is usually wearing his legionary outfit, including the helmet
Fears: I was trained to fear nothing, but I do fear death.
Personality: Hardened, Vindictive, Loyal,
Occupation: Caesar's Legion Recruit
Skills: Strong, battle-hardened, knows how to capture slaves, some-what intelligent.
Nickname (Optional): NONE
RP Example (Add Dialogue): Three Recruits and I were sent to enslave a caravan. We are hiding behind some dunes waiting for the right time to strike. ME: *whispers* Alright guys, on three... One... Recruit 1: But what if they are anticipating us!? ME: Man up, you weren't trained to cower, you were trained to fight and serve the legion. Alright, now that, that is all clear.. ONE.. TWO... THREE!! *war shouts* CARAVANERS: What the hell is that!? Oh ****, it's the legion, we gotta get the **** out of here! ME: Don't let them get away! The second recruit hurled his javalin through one of the bodyguard's back. ME: Surrender your weapons and render unto Caesar or feel or prepare to feel our steel. *all the caravan people threw their weapons to the side of the path* *the second recruit and third went and gathered them up* *BANG* One of the caravan bodyguards had a 10mm in his hand, which was smoking. I ran up to him and cut that bastards arm off, then I checked to see who he shot, the first recruit was still on the ground.. Coward got what he deserved, in my opinion.
Backstory (1-2 LONG paragraphs): Born and raised as a legionnaire I was trained to never back down, it didn't matter if I ended up dead or alive, as long as the day was won. The training was hard, but nothing I couldn't handle. For those who did not comply or disobeyed the laws of the legion were whipped or crucified, left for the others to see, so we would learn from their mistakes and become better soldiers of war. We struck great fear into all of the Mojave, wherever we went. One day when I was sent off on a mission with Decanus Claudius and some other recruits, we were ambushed by NCR. there were three of them for every one of us, we held our grand, I saw Claudius tearing through them with his war machete. Many good legion soldiers died, I thought I too, was dead.. Until some man woke me up when he was trying to scavenge me. He brought me to a town, Nipton, I saw a giant dinosaur with a secretive looking man with a sniper, cautiously watching as the man brought me to the motel. After several days I was ready to set off on my own, I didn't believe I would be able to show my face to the legion again, so I wandered the Mojave. Many weeks.. maybe months passed, I was starting to get used to the life out in the desert. Sometimes traveling caravans would spare me some food, I told them I was not a charity cause, then I proceeded to slice them into finely chopped pieces and took all their cargo. I slept on a makeshift mat, made of brahmin leather. I woke to the sound of guns firing and metal clanging. I peered over a rock, it was my old friend and leader, Decanus Claudius, he was wearing a wonderful set of armor, it almost looked like legate armor, I thought to myself. He saw me and told me to come out and leave all my possessions behind the rock. I don't believe he recognized me, but after he chained me up, I started to explain what happened, he quickly told the guards to unchain me, as he welcomed me back into the legion.
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-*Forum Username:Xersuesn
-*Have you read, understood, and agreed to the rules? What about the lore?
Yes, I have read it all and fully understand.
-If you could change any of the Server rules, which ones would you change?
None, they all seem completely realistic and following them shouldn't be hard.
-*Do you believe that you are trustworthy?
Yes, I believe I am completely trustworthy
-*What will you contribute to the server?
I can build really good walls houses and roads.
-*How old are you?
14 (turning 15 in September)
-About how often are you on minecraft during the week?
Almost every day.
-How long have you played minecraft?
I have been playing since early Alpha.
-What do you know about roleplaying? How long have you been doing it? What kind?
I have been RPing for about 2 years and have done RPing in WoW and in other MC servers also on some ForumsRP
-What do you expect this server will be like?
Awesome!:tongue.gif:
-*Character Name
Synestrio
-*What is your Race?
Elf
-*Biography
Synestrio was a young boy when his Father left to go on Templar crusades. His Father told him that he needs to be the man now and protect his Mother and to be a good boy while he is gone. His Mother was struggling to support the two of them. Synestrio thought if he could find a few seeds out in the woods he could bring them back so he could grow some wheat to help his mother. While he was out looking for seeds he saw a bird in an oak tree singing a beautiful tune. He got caught in the bird's melody and became oblivious to his surroundings. It must have been only a few minutes, he thought to himself as he snapped out of the bird's hypnotic song. He had to get back home, the sun was setting and he realized he had been gone many hours past the time he was to be home. He heard a man shouting as he neared his house, he peered through the window to see his uncle with a mug full of mead stomping around and pushing his mother. She was yelling at him to stop as he started to get closer to her. Little Synestrio climbed up a stack of crates and jumped through the window. His Uncle did not hear him jump into the house. Synestrio crawled underneath the table and reached on top to find the knife they used to cut the pork chops. He held it close to his chest and started to pray that his uncle would stay away from his mother and the knife would not have to be used. Synestrio's hopes were gone once he saw his uncle pick up a bowl from the table and smashed it across his mother's face. She fell to the ground like a rag doll and shattered bits of the clay bowl shot all around the room. He knew if he didn't do something his drunk uncle would really hurt his mother. Synestrio jumped up from under the table and stabbed the knife into his uncle's right collarbone. He heard the bone shatter underneath his uncle's skin. His uncles let out a wail of agony as he reached for the sword on his back. Synestrio but his uncle's hand and took the sword before his uncles had a chance to recover from the deep bloody mess on his hand from the bite. His uncle soon realized that his sword was gone, he backed up into the corner and started to beg the lord for forgiveness. Synestrio did not have the heart to harm his uncle any further. He offered the sword back to his uncle and told him he had to leave. As he was walking out towards the door, he turned around and told Synestrio to take his sword, he wanted him to learn how to use it so he could protect his Mother from monsters like him. Years passed, Synestrio was about twenty in human years and many years back, his Father's armor was sent back, not on his father though, in a container that came along-side a coffin. The armor sat display in the middle of the house, it was so they would always remember his Father for the brave man they knew he was. A friend of his father came one day, to pay respects. As he was leaving, he told Synestrio to get out of town, he heard that the bandits were in the area and they were looking for fresh blood and loot. Synestrio knew he had to leave to protect his Mother, but she wouldn't listen to him. She was born in that house and she said if she were to die, she would want it to be in that house, with the soul of his father. They conversed for the whole night, Synestrio was growing tired, yet his Mother seemed relentless. She was telling him that he needed to leave and she would stay in that house and try to protect herself. As he was going to sleep, he heard something in the living room, where his Father's armor was kept on display. It was a seductive whisper coming from all sides of the house. They were telling him to take the armor and leave. He couldn't just walk out on his Mother, could he? He walked to his room, took his sword from the chest he kept by his bed, you could hear his Mother crying from a mile away, she knew he would have left, his blood was restless, just as his Father's was. He was out for blood and it didn't matter who's it was.
-Can your character read or write?
As reading came naturally to him he learned to write just as well.
-Can your character mine?
He has the strength to mine, but prefers to explore the caves, rather than mine his own tunnels.
-Are you a capable builder?
Synestrio has spent countless hours studying the books and journals of master architects, giving him a great sense of construction.
-Can you wield a sword?
Synestrio owns a Broadsword which he had gotten from his uncle while he was leaving after assaulting Synestrio's Mother.
He is proficient with it but strives to learn more.
-Do they enjoy Farming?
He is not fond of the time wasted on it, yet he has some skill in it.
-Does your character have any special skills?
He taught himself how to build and design like the great architects did, he adds his own flare to everything he does. He is also a good sneak and could take someone out while they are still unprepared.
-A screenshot of your skin
I don't have one at the moment but, he has a cross on his front and back since he took his father's armor. His ears are Elf-like and he seems to be happy (probably the elf in him)
-Other Information
I've included everything I think you need to know for my Application.
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-Age:14
-Timezone\Country of Residence:Illinois
-Do you use proper grammar and spelling?:Yes
-Why do you want to join this server?:It seems like a lot of fun. I also am a big fan of the Total War series and want to make strong cities
-What previous servers have you been on? Kingdom of Aeonis
-Are you still part of them? If not, why? Yes, it's a good rp pvp server, with many friends and enemies. I have learned how to be better at Rping from them.
-Why we should whitelist you?: I think I would be able to help people and build great structures or empires.
-Have you ever been banned?Yes
-If so, why?As a misunderstanding when a moderator abusing his powers as soon as he got them, he started kicking and banning people left and right.
-Have you read/agree to the rules?: Yes
-Do you think you may donate at one point?If I can persuade my mom or dad to let me.
-How much time could you be on the server weekly?:I would usually be on 2-3 hours a day.
-How long have you played minecraft?:Since Alpha came out
-[b]Photograph or deep description of skin. (If we find you with an irrevelant skin, you will be told. If you argue, you will be kicked.):I have a elven skin. I have a cross on my front and back because I am a Templar on another server.
$@$
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