We here a Vault-Tec most recently received your work application(s). And would like to inform you wether or not you made it in to our simulation test A.K.A.: Virtual Reality. We worked for a good time pondering wether or not you were a worthy addition to our test! And we have come up with a list of the following people who will be thrown into the exciting world of Virtual Reality! Do not fret if you weren't accepted, you have TWO tries to enter this EXCLUSIVE program.
IGN:iiimrdmsiii
Age:14
Role-Play Exp.:I play allot of, Fallout, Oblivion, Minecraft RP servers and many other Role Playing games
Why Us:Because I love this style of games and servers
Time You Can Dedicate:2-4 hours weekdays 2-5 weekends
IC
Name:nik
Gender:male
Age:27
Appearance:a man that has been with many caravans, seen many things. His eyes look stressed, but also cold and bitter. He has, Dark hair, very strong.
Fears:Fears are the creatures at the night and raiders
Personality:Cold, wants to make a cause, join some faction just to be known for somthing. He is gonna do somthing though.
Occupation:Mercanary/scavenger/ anything I can do
Skills:Likes to battle and mine, riches are a big part to me, so I aim on getting them, Caravaning
Nickname (Optional):none
RP Example (Add Dialogue):I entered the old casino. I was looking for somebody. I was in my old duster holding my laser rifle. I walked to the man at the front desk. "Wheres, Rusty Higraw?" I asked. The chairman pointed at one of the gamblers. I knodded and handed him a cap. I walked over there to Rusty, and shouted accross the crowded casino, "Rusty you ready to die, you son of a *****?" he had his back to me but I gave him time to draw for his, 44 Mag. He shot one shot, missed but was very close, he shot again, and again. He missed the first but knicked my shoulder on the third. I had been walking towards him during this, so I could get a good shot. And I got to where I wanted, pulled the trigger on the rifle, turning Rusty to dust I went over grabbed his key and his caps, and walked out of the casino. "Rusty you just made me 5000 caps!" I said to myself, while walking out of the sherrifs office.
Backstory (1-2 LONG paragraphs):I came from Southern Utah, I had been born and raised to a strict addoptive father, who farmed and herded, Brahmin. He was a big outfit, but very strict and harsh. Uncle Steve (dads late wifes brother) always told me about New Vegas. He was a body guard to the Crimson Caravan, he told storys of amazing buildings, and life full of riches and pleasure. I always wanted to go, but dad wanted me to stay on the farm. When I was thirteen or fourteen, he got sick and died. I went to New Vegas with a bunch of settlers from the area who, had no purpose here. When we got there I saw the most beautiful tall structures I could imagine. While in Vegas, I searched for Steve at the Crimson's post in New Vegas. He was gone they all said. His Caravan was raided and everyone was killed. They trained me the art of caravans and I became a guard till I was 25. I now am a bounty killer. Its a good job that satifies. I have been in some tight spots in the past but always pulled through.
We here a Vault-Tec most recently received your work application(s). And would like to inform you wether or not you made it in to our simulation test A.K.A.: Virtual Reality. We worked for a good time pondering wether or not you were a worthy addition to our test! And we have come up with a list of the following people who will be thrown into the exciting world of Virtual Reality! Do not fret if you weren't accepted, you have TWO tries to enter this EXCLUSIVE program.
Accepted Applications: No one, what a shame.
Denied Applications: iiimrdmsiii
We here a Vault-Tec most recently received your work application(s). And would like to inform you wether or not you made it in to our simulation test A.K.A.: Virtual Reality. We worked for a good time pondering wether or not you were a worthy addition to our test! And we have come up with a list of the following people who will be thrown into the exciting world of Virtual Reality! Do not fret if you weren't accepted, you have TWO tries to enter this EXCLUSIVE program.
Accepted Applications: No one, what a shame.
Denied Applications: iiimrdmsiii
There I was. Standing in between the line; the one that displayed Legion from the Wasteland. It made me think a bit, did the Legion and other factions distinguish themselves from others because they think of themselves as pure souls? If we all have a different definition for a pure soul, then what would be the right one? Their definition, they would say. But it took no longer to process that then when the first bullet hit the sand, penetrating into the sand like a metal worm.
"It's time, Phillips," General Everest said, "we have them so outnumbered they'll crap their pants before they see the first bullet hit them."
I chuckled. Everest always exaggerated, and when he wasn't doing that he was making speeches and shooting Soviets and Enclave and Independence, but now he would shoot Legion. And I would, too. So we were alike some way, I guess.
"Their bullets can pierce our armor, our skin," Everest continued, "But they cannot pierce our soul!"
I felt a burst of morale, and like a choir we all sang a similar song I called Say Huzzah A Bunch of Times. We charged. I ran and dodge, we all fired like mad. The whisper of each bullet passing my ear or under my legs had me trembling, but I had to fight it. The fear and me being afraid to die. I ran with Parsons and a Soviet soldier into the oval-shaped arena. Nothing in sight. I heard a scream. A scream for life, which that person was about to lose. I knew they were close.
I knew they were left of me. I ran. I sprinted across the sandy surface to the rough brick. It was extremely textured, as if someone cared an engraving into it. But there they were. Legate and Decanus and Caesar. All in plain sight, cowering behind textured brick as well. We fired, they did so, too. They fell to the ground, begging for mercy, but we could not give it. Or could we?
I couldn't and wouldn't bother to ask General Everest, so I shot. I shot their heads, their legs, their torso, their arms, their everything. I didn't feel mercy, which I could tell they telepathically asked for. That thought of mercy went back and forth in my brain, as if I cared. But I didn't.
We took the survivors, the Legate and Caesar. We drowned the Legate to death, but it was an accident. The valve didn't close fast enough, so he died. Caesar, well...What happened to him was almost unbearable. We burned him in his stadium, then brought him back, and I don't know what happened next. Him and Everest had a "talk" and Caesar ended up with three teeth gone and screaming his lungs out. That day taught me a lot. Like how the most unlikely of odds turn up, and how sometimes they don't.
Rest In Peace, Legion.
This was a true story told from Private Phillips perspective at the Battle of Aragoth Arena.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
You look like you cast dark magic and eviscerate babies.
There I was. Standing in between the line; the one that displayed Legion from the Wasteland. It made me think a bit, did the Legion and other factions distinguish themselves from others because they think of themselves as pure souls? If we all have a different definition for a pure soul, then what would be the right one? Their definition, they would say. But it took no longer to process that then when the first bullet hit the sand, penetrating into the sand like a metal worm.
"It's time, Phillips," General Everest said, "we have them so outnumbered they'll crap their pants before they see the first bullet hit them."
I chuckled. Everest always exaggerated, and when he wasn't doing that he was making speeches and shooting Soviets and Enclave and Independence, but now he would shoot Legion. And I would, too. So we were alike some way, I guess.
"Their bullets can pierce our armor, our skin," Everest continued, "But they cannot pierce our soul!"
I felt a burst of morale, and like a choir we all sang a similar song I called Say Huzzah A Bunch of Times. We charged. I ran and dodge, we all fired like mad. The whisper of each bullet passing my ear or under my legs had me trembling, but I had to fight it. The fear and me being afraid to die. I ran with Parsons and a Soviet soldier into the oval-shaped arena. Nothing in sight. I heard a scream. A scream for life, which that person was about to lose. I knew they were close.
I knew they were left of me. I ran. I sprinted across the sandy surface to the rough brick. It was extremely textured, as if someone cared an engraving into it. But there they were. Legate and Decanus and Caesar. All in plain sight, cowering behind textured brick as well. We fired, they did so, too. They fell to the ground, begging for mercy, but we could not give it. Or could we?
I couldn't and wouldn't bother to ask General Everest, so I shot. I shot their heads, their legs, their torso, their arms, their everything. I didn't feel mercy, which I could tell they telepathically asked for. That thought of mercy went back and forth in my brain, as if I cared. But I didn't.
We took the survivors, the Legate and Caesar. We drowned the Legate to death, but it was an accident. The valve didn't close fast enough, so he died. Caesar, well...What happened to him was almost unbearable. We burned him in his stadium, then brought him back, and I don't know what happened next. Him and Everest had a "talk" and Caesar ended up with three teeth gone and screaming his lungs out. That day taught me a lot. Like how the most unlikely of odds turn up, and how sometimes they don't.
Rest In Peace, Legion.
This was a true story told from Private Phillips perspective at the Battle of Aragoth Arena.
on page 408 i have been accepted for white-list (says Retribution)
There I was. Standing in between the line; the one that displayed Legion from the Wasteland. It made me think a bit, did the Legion and other factions distinguish themselves from others because they think of themselves as pure souls? If we all have a different definition for a pure soul, then what would be the right one? Their definition, they would say. But it took no longer to process that then when the first bullet hit the sand, penetrating into the sand like a metal worm.
"It's time, Phillips," General Everest said, "we have them so outnumbered they'll crap their pants before they see the first bullet hit them."
I chuckled. Everest always exaggerated, and when he wasn't doing that he was making speeches and shooting Soviets and Enclave and Independence, but now he would shoot Legion. And I would, too. So we were alike some way, I guess.
"Their bullets can pierce our armor, our skin," Everest continued, "But they cannot pierce our soul!"
I felt a burst of morale, and like a choir we all sang a similar song I called Say Huzzah A Bunch of Times. We charged. I ran and dodge, we all fired like mad. The whisper of each bullet passing my ear or under my legs had me trembling, but I had to fight it. The fear and me being afraid to die. I ran with Parsons and a Soviet soldier into the oval-shaped arena. Nothing in sight. I heard a scream. A scream for life, which that person was about to lose. I knew they were close.
I knew they were left of me. I ran. I sprinted across the sandy surface to the rough brick. It was extremely textured, as if someone cared an engraving into it. But there they were. Legate and Decanus and Caesar. All in plain sight, cowering behind textured brick as well. We fired, they did so, too. They fell to the ground, begging for mercy, but we could not give it. Or could we?
I couldn't and wouldn't bother to ask General Everest, so I shot. I shot their heads, their legs, their torso, their arms, their everything. I didn't feel mercy, which I could tell they telepathically asked for. That thought of mercy went back and forth in my brain, as if I cared. But I didn't.
We took the survivors, the Legate and Caesar. We drowned the Legate to death, but it was an accident. The valve didn't close fast enough, so he died. Caesar, well...What happened to him was almost unbearable. We burned him in his stadium, then brought him back, and I don't know what happened next. Him and Everest had a "talk" and Caesar ended up with three teeth gone and screaming his lungs out. That day taught me a lot. Like how the most unlikely of odds turn up, and how sometimes they don't.
Rest In Peace, Legion.
This was a true story told from Private Phillips perspective at the Battle of Aragoth Arena.
Will you please let your whitelisters actually consider my APPs? He doesnt even know my MC account info, and if he ever does Find out ILL KILL HIM! please? Ill delete his video too its our youtube account.
Will you please let your whitelisters actually consider my APPs? He doesnt even know my MC account info, and if he ever does Find out ILL KILL HIM! please? Ill delete his video too its our youtube account.
I quit
I try to come back
Theta Quits
Chao Quits
Theta Comes Back
As We All Ran For Our Lives, Annoying Followed.
LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL.:l
Accepted Applications: [Names]
Denied Applications: [Names]
APP FORMAT You liek?
NO no no Noooo! Im not quiting! I never did quit! Im loyal to spartan and america!
Age:14
Role-Play Exp.:I play allot of, Fallout, Oblivion, Minecraft RP servers and many other Role Playing games
Why Us:Because I love this style of games and servers
Time You Can Dedicate:2-4 hours weekdays 2-5 weekends
IC
Name:nik
Gender:male
Age:27
Appearance:a man that has been with many caravans, seen many things. His eyes look stressed, but also cold and bitter. He has, Dark hair, very strong.
Fears:Fears are the creatures at the night and raiders
Personality:Cold, wants to make a cause, join some faction just to be known for somthing. He is gonna do somthing though.
Occupation:Mercanary/scavenger/ anything I can do
Skills:Likes to battle and mine, riches are a big part to me, so I aim on getting them, Caravaning
Nickname (Optional):none
RP Example (Add Dialogue):I entered the old casino. I was looking for somebody. I was in my old duster holding my laser rifle. I walked to the man at the front desk. "Wheres, Rusty Higraw?" I asked. The chairman pointed at one of the gamblers. I knodded and handed him a cap. I walked over there to Rusty, and shouted accross the crowded casino, "Rusty you ready to die, you son of a *****?" he had his back to me but I gave him time to draw for his, 44 Mag. He shot one shot, missed but was very close, he shot again, and again. He missed the first but knicked my shoulder on the third. I had been walking towards him during this, so I could get a good shot. And I got to where I wanted, pulled the trigger on the rifle, turning Rusty to dust I went over grabbed his key and his caps, and walked out of the casino. "Rusty you just made me 5000 caps!" I said to myself, while walking out of the sherrifs office.
Backstory (1-2 LONG paragraphs):I came from Southern Utah, I had been born and raised to a strict addoptive father, who farmed and herded, Brahmin. He was a big outfit, but very strict and harsh. Uncle Steve (dads late wifes brother) always told me about New Vegas. He was a body guard to the Crimson Caravan, he told storys of amazing buildings, and life full of riches and pleasure. I always wanted to go, but dad wanted me to stay on the farm. When I was thirteen or fourteen, he got sick and died. I went to New Vegas with a bunch of settlers from the area who, had no purpose here. When we got there I saw the most beautiful tall structures I could imagine. While in Vegas, I searched for Steve at the Crimson's post in New Vegas. He was gone they all said. His Caravan was raided and everyone was killed. They trained me the art of caravans and I became a guard till I was 25. I now am a bounty killer. Its a good job that satifies. I have been in some tight spots in the past but always pulled through.
Let the hate mail and all the "why me no connect/" begin!!!
Accepted Applications: No one, what a shame.
Denied Applications: iiimrdmsiii
If Beck dies, you'll see me again, I promise.
why?
"It's time, Phillips," General Everest said, "we have them so outnumbered they'll crap their pants before they see the first bullet hit them."
I chuckled. Everest always exaggerated, and when he wasn't doing that he was making speeches and shooting Soviets and Enclave and Independence, but now he would shoot Legion. And I would, too. So we were alike some way, I guess.
"Their bullets can pierce our armor, our skin," Everest continued, "But they cannot pierce our soul!"
I felt a burst of morale, and like a choir we all sang a similar song I called Say Huzzah A Bunch of Times. We charged. I ran and dodge, we all fired like mad. The whisper of each bullet passing my ear or under my legs had me trembling, but I had to fight it. The fear and me being afraid to die. I ran with Parsons and a Soviet soldier into the oval-shaped arena. Nothing in sight. I heard a scream. A scream for life, which that person was about to lose. I knew they were close.
I knew they were left of me. I ran. I sprinted across the sandy surface to the rough brick. It was extremely textured, as if someone cared an engraving into it. But there they were. Legate and Decanus and Caesar. All in plain sight, cowering behind textured brick as well. We fired, they did so, too. They fell to the ground, begging for mercy, but we could not give it. Or could we?
I couldn't and wouldn't bother to ask General Everest, so I shot. I shot their heads, their legs, their torso, their arms, their everything. I didn't feel mercy, which I could tell they telepathically asked for. That thought of mercy went back and forth in my brain, as if I cared. But I didn't.
We took the survivors, the Legate and Caesar. We drowned the Legate to death, but it was an accident. The valve didn't close fast enough, so he died. Caesar, well...What happened to him was almost unbearable. We burned him in his stadium, then brought him back, and I don't know what happened next. Him and Everest had a "talk" and Caesar ended up with three teeth gone and screaming his lungs out. That day taught me a lot. Like how the most unlikely of odds turn up, and how sometimes they don't.
Rest In Peace, Legion.
This was a true story told from Private Phillips perspective at the Battle of Aragoth Arena.
yeah your a ****tard! I told you I wanted in this server and you **** me up!
on page 408 i have been accepted for white-list (says Retribution)
Hahaha! Maybe you shouldnt leave your MC signed in? hahahahaha!
Will you please let your whitelisters actually consider my APPs? He doesnt even know my MC account info, and if he ever does Find out ILL KILL HIM! please? Ill delete his video too its our youtube account.
...Reasonable?
"You like cake, Beckers?"
"Yup." *runs away*
I tried to get them to let you in
Fail? Nice fake.