Hosting Provided by https://nentra.net/ Quality, inexpensive hosting for all your needs.
IP: n1.nentra.net:25612
Immerse yourself within an in depth, constantly evolving server. The experience will be like nothing you have seen before, we’re bringing a unique take on an old tired version of servers. Give us a shot, see for yourself if it’s what you’re looking for. We’ll be waiting.
A couple key features of the server are as follows.
-A constantly changing server, New locations on a weekly or bi-weekly basis.
-An evolving storyline that starts and begins with your input.
-Exploration is encouraged and heavily rewarded. Though it comes with its own risks...
-Custom lore, not built upon any pre-existing game. This leaves a lot of room to work.
-Intricately designed locations, crafted from the ground up.
-Hand picked plugins selected to make your experience that much more enjoyable.
-Quality staff that are there for you and ready to help at a moments notice.
All staff are quite learned in their jobs, and will strive to make your experience here that much better. If you’re interested in joining the staff team, just show yourself to be a decent person. We’ll come to you, you don’t come to us.
-Owner-
Blue (Bluestudioes)
-Admins-
Syvs (Syvs/Cthulhu_Jesus)
Bunni (BunniWabbit/BunniRabbit)
Tkashi (Tkashi/Luft_Waffle)
-Moderators-
Maria (Tifa_Lockheart)
Every server has rules, this is obvious and used to keep order within. Refer to both the OOC and IC rules to gain a clear grasp on what is expected of you. Breaking of a rule will warrant punishment, the severity of which will depend on the rules broken. Rules are subject to change at any time, check back from time to time to keep up to date.
OOC Rules
-Refrain from Powergaming
-Refrain from Metagaming
-Think logically about your actions, and use logic when performing something.
-Respect both your fellow players, and the staff members.
-Use of client side mods other than Optifine or Mini-maps is outlawed.
-Use the given resource pack.
- Don't craft diamond armor. It can only be found, not crafted.
- Once a character dies, It is required to make a new character application. Exceptions can be given out if a player has multiple deaths in a short span of time or other circumstances.
IC Rules
-Refrain from Powergaming
-Refrain from Metagaming
-Do not Kill on Sight or perform Random Death Matches.
-Put "Don't forget your old shipmates" somewhere within your application.
-Fights between characters are expected to be fought irp, not with pvp. The exception to this is when both parties agree, or in very large scale conflicts.
-Do not enchant armor or weapons. It’s just far too overpowered most of the time. Enchanted items given out by staff will have certain properties that distinguish them.
-RP death will happen at some point. When deciding if it’s a proper death or not use common sense. A shot to the head will kill you, you can’t ‘dodge’ out of the way. Try to refrain from killing other people’s character unless it’s fully necessary though.
-Being evil for the sake of being evil is not a valid character motive, don’t even try it.
-Trying to use a 'fake' gun in RP will result in confiscation and rollback of the RP. ( Tools are not guns )
- Radio Chat and using /msg as an IC radio can only be done if both parties have a proper radio.
- No ERP. Nothing past second base. For everyone's sake just fade to black.
-Stealing from other characters can only be done when they are online.
Follow the server lore when possible, and use it when figuring out your character’s back story. Out of place characters and actions will be reprimanded. Lore is a first person account from the ship’s previous captain, what is written here can be known In Character. Current date of the server is 2080.
Well then… Let’s go ahead and get this started, shall we? Right off the bat, my name is Bartholomew Harrison. I’ve been captain of the USS Defiance for the past 40 years. I am 70 years old at this point… and I doubt I have much more time left in me. So I feel it would be proper to spend the last of my life making a proper account of our history.
Like any good story, we’ll start this one at the beginning. My ship, the Defiance, was a “Gerald Ford” class Air-craft Carrier. Forth of her class, she was launched in December of 2018. A proper gem of the United States Naval forces. She served mostly in a peacekeeping role within the Middle-East and parts of Asia. Defiance’s battle group was made up of two destroyers, a missile cruiser and an attack submarine. I’m getting off topic though… This is less than important for my goal. Let’s skip ahead a bit shall we?
We’ll get to the juicy bits now. Let’s see… In 2020 things started to destabilize globally. Tensions within the Middle-East had reached their apex and started to boil over into more of Asia, Africa and parts of Europe. During this time, the United States navy more or less gave up on the location and recalled most of their ships home. Defiance was among those recalled, she spend roughly a year in dry dock getting re-fitted with more advanced hardware. ( It was also during this time that the previous captain stepped down and I was promoted to the post )
Destabilization on a global level continued as the Defiance was in dry dock. Rogue nukes, bombing of civilian sectors, whole towns lit up like a bonfire… That sort of thing was even more common than before in the Middle East. And well… What happened next I still don’t know what caused it. Some sort of Cataclysm, an act of God perhaps? Whatever it was, it came without warning. The Oceans quickly started to rise. I don’t mean the tides came in, I mean the oceans just… the coastal cities were quickly flooded and washed away. Millions died and soon even more would fall. With no delegated course of action, Defiance was quickly launched from drydock with a skeleton crew on board.
Without official orders, we set about working as a rescue ship. Picking up those we could from the cataclysmic flooding… We couldn’t save everyone though… Many were left behind but we did what we could. The boat was full of people at this point, civilians… Most of them had no clue what was going on. Few had any more possessions than the clothes on their backs. Everyone watched as the land was slowly swallowed up, vanishing from view beneath the waves.
Shock, depression and sickness was rampant in those early days. A metal tub in the ocean isn’t the most hospitable place to spend the apocalypse after all. We waited near what used to be New-York, waiting for orders from… someone, anyone. But they never came and so we departed. Where to? We didn’t really know at that time. We just had to find somewhere, and keep these people safe.
We sailed through the sea, looking for anything that might assist us. We didn’t see much in those early days, a lot of ruined cities beneath the waves… even more bodies. Bloated and floating on the surface. It took over a year before we received a clear, proper signal, from Greenland of all places. This raised moral greatly and we quickly altered our course and headed there with all haste.
Upon arrival, we were almost out of supplies and fuel. We limped into port on fumes… It was worth it though. Greenland was rather “together” at this point. Or as much as you can be after the apocalypse. It seems they’d survived rather intact, I guess their higher elevation protected them from the worst of the flooding? Who knows, and honestly I didn’t care at the time nor do I now. The important part was they were alive and had survived. Many people left the ship that day, not able to stand it anymore. We received quite a few volunteers though, eager hands to assists on the ship.
A deal was made with what remained of the Greenlandic Government. We’d sail the seas, looking for survivors and directing them… home. In return we’d be granted fuel, supplies and manpower for the ship. It was a fantastic deal, and honestly our only option at that point. We spent our time at port, then set out to fulfill our end of the deal. We sailed around locating other survivor colonies as we did so, always spreading the news of Greenland to those that would listen.
Not everyone we met was as… hospitable as those in Greenland. Seems many people lost their civility and humanity, I can’t blame them though… Raiders and thugs were a problem, a major problem. They’d roam around in smaller boats and attack travelers, they’d even attack us at times. We were strong enough to repulse them more often than not though.
I’m getting off track though, let’s speak of the colonies we visited. The Major ones are as follows…
United Greenland. Greenland stands alone as a beacon of hope within the new world. It’s a center for trade and commerce between those that remain. It’s got a proper military force and even a banking union… Surprisingly it remains standing. We served under it, in various capacities.
PerChile. An alliance between the remains of Peru and Chile, nestled in the Andes mountains. Decent people and often receptive of visitors and traders. Real quality people, good surprise in this sort of age.
China… China always has a plan it seems. They've survived mostly in the area around the Himalayan mountains. Their society is rather totalitarian at this point. I can understand the reason behind it. They’re slightly xenophobic though and only trade with outsiders when they must.
United Union. Remains of Canadian and United States people. They’re hunkered out in the rocky mountains. It’s sad to see how far we’ve fallen… They’re in a sort of caste society now. It’s a mockery of what we once were. We still trade with them, and deliver messages though. You can’t be choosy at this point.
Ethiopian Republic. Surprisingly, Ethiopia was in rather good shape. Guess their highland location paid off in the end. Not much is known about the current situation within there though. The whole colony is closed to outsiders aside from the docks. They’re extremely intolerant and suspicious of people. To even be able to dock requires a permit.
South African Warlords. Ethiopia’s neighbors to the south. South Africa is mostly divided up among various warlords who all control a small sliver of the area… And yet they still continue on like before the apocalypse. Diamonds are still mined up using slave labor. It’s a surprisingly large trade still, I guess people will always want luxury.
Middle East Conglomerate. Portions of the middle east survived, and they still continue to pump out oil from their deep wells. This loose collection of states charges top dollar for some of the last oil left, but who knows how long it’ll last.
These are the major players we’ve met in our travels. Of course a few small villages and societies exist upon slivers of land and even floating barges. We perform trade with everyone, and will take on anyone with a decent skill set. It doesn't pay to judge, not anymore…
Our role has slowly evolved over the years, and with it the ship as a whole. We’re everything from a courier and a transport ship, to a defence ship or a rescue floater. Our flag is synonymous with society and freedom, people know it when they see it. The ship too hasn’t stayed the same either, we’re now a floating city. Buildings, Farms and Windmills adorn the flight deck rather than planes. Small towns crop up in the lower decks and the hangar… People build a home wherever possible. If I had to estimate… I think we’ve got at least ten-thousand people on board at any time. Sometimes even more….
Those are the major hitting points though, I think I’ve covered it nicely and left a good record for future generations. I know I’ll be gone soon… I hope my son can continue to lead our people into the future and keep them safe. Captain Bartholomew Harrison
Admission of an application is mandatory to getting on the server. You will not be let on without having an application accepted by members of the staff.
OOC:
In game name:
Timezone:
Age:
What role-playing experience do you have?:
Why did you choose us?:
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat):
IC:
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Ethnicity:
Place of Birth:
Defining characteristics and physical appearance:
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind:
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
We’ll have a bunch of screenshots for your viewing pleasure here soon. We also hope to have a map tracking the boat’s progress throughout the new world. Stay tuned for more!
Feel free to message any of the staff member with any questions. We do have a Skype Chat, so do feel free to put your username in the area that asks of it.
I'd like to thank the over-reactive moderators for removing messages... for no reason.
Accepted! On the basis that you understand evil acts for no proper reason will not be tolerated. We don't need multiple 'Hannibal Lecters' running around the ship for no good reason. As for the owned property, the house is alright... We'll have to debate over the drug den though. You'll hear more through pms.
What role-playing experience do you have?: (shudder) LotC, your last server.
Why did you choose us?: Because I've RPed with you guys before, and you're smart enough to make it work. I have faith in you guys.
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): You know my Skype.
IC:
Name: Jan Kjellfrid
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Scandinavian, 1/4 Scottish
Place of Birth: Glittertind
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Pale, red-brown hair, brown eyes. Wiry, but not emaciated. Generally of good humor, and a humanitarian at heart.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Strengths:
Fluent in two languages (The amalgamated language of the Scandinavian survivors, and English)
Medical Knowledge
Intermediate Psychological Knowledge
Intelligent
Quick
Relatively Likable
Weaknesses:
Too sympathetic "Maybe these raiders just want their freedom! Let's talk to them!"
Not Hugely Strong "Can I have the lighter crate instead?"
Not a big fan of 'Merica "You assholes are the reason we're in this mess!"
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: He owns a room on the ship, and a small office where he offers therapy.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
Jan's grandfather was a Scottish professor who moved to Sweden to live with his wife. They were one of the many refugees that ran to Glittertind and the Scandes to escape the rising tide.
In a remarkable show of foresight and preparedness, the Scandinavian governments ushered the citizens into pre-built bunkers and safehouses int he Scandes Mountains. One bunker eventually became the settlement of Glittertind, and was a center-point of the Scandinavian remnants.
Jan trained to become a doctor, and eventually learned the trade. He also read lots of philosophy and psychology books, working as a psychologist for Glittertind's inhabitants.
When the Defiant came into port at Glittertind, Jan (along with many other Scandinavians) joined the crew in an effort to see the world and help out the dying remnants of humanity. He's served on board the Defiant for maybe a year at this point.
RP Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
Jan: But why do we have to attack them?
Alan: Jan, they're savages. They've taken our crewmen hostage.
Jan: Damn it Alan, have you considered why? They're scared of us, and they're getting insurance so we don't attack them!
Alan: Jan...... you can't save everyone.
Jan: I can damn well try.
Alan: Just...... don't do anything stupid, okay?
Jan: *noncommittal grumble*
- 1 hour later -
Jan: Give me a scotch, Penn.
Penn: Coming right up.
Jan scoots into a stool by the bar, accidentally knocking over a drink in the process.
Drunkard: (drunkenly slurred) Whysa**** you do zthat fur?!
Jan: Sorry, it was an accident.
Drunkard: Axe-dent my ash, you fakkin knocked my shdrink over! I'll fukkan kill you, bishtch!
Drunkard lunges forward, and Jan ducks the blow.
Jan: Have you ever considered that your rampant alcoholism has to do with the guilt you face when you turn and face your past head on?"
Drunkard: Shzut the fukk up, f-fag!
Drunkard lunges forward and hits Jan square in the face. Jan shouts in pain and reels backward. A guard tackles the Drunkard and arrests him.
Jan: Sorry it had to be this way. If you ever want to talk things out, ask for Jan.
(He's a bit White-Knighty, but I think he has at least a few downsides to him.)
In game name:CreepyCreeper148 (Hey Syvs, don't forget your old ship mates.Haha, what edit?)
Timezone:CST (Canada).
Age:Thirteen.
What role-playing experience do you have?:Fallout: Wild Wasteland, Fallout: Echoes of Mankind, Fallout: Desolate Roads, FallCraft (The first and second versions), The Wayward Ones, Lord of the Craft, and Echoes of the Ancients.
Why did you choose us?:Yes.
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat):Already in the group.
IC:
Name:Adam Malik
Age:31
Gender:Male.
Ethnicity: Caucasian.
Place of Birth:Greenland.
Defining characteristics and physical appearance:
Adam is a tall and frail man, standing at a fine 6'3", but has little physical strength. He is very pale, as he usually resides in the lower parts of the deck, hardly visiting the surface for leisure or recreation. He considers himself intelligent and confident, though makes sure to not cross the line into being cocky. When it comes to a fight, Adam will often use anything he can to his advantage to prevail. He is protective of his sister alone, and cares little for anyone else.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Adam considers himself an intelligent and charismatic person. Of course, this is only his own opinion. While he has a fair amount of knowledge on subjects like mathematics and history, he is on the weaker side when it comes to raw physical strength. He's also rather lazy, and refuses to put his maximum effort into anything, unless he might consider it to be absolutely essential. He has next to no knowledge on operating firearms, or using any any melee weapon more advanced than a knife. He is often unproductive and attempts to get others to do work for him, but this may change over time.
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind:
Adam owns a small room on the lower decks of the ship, near his sister. He has a replica shotgun (Obviously unable to be fixed or altered to work), as well as a flimsy concealable switchblade.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
Adam grew up in a manor in Greenland, living with his two parents and his sister, Jennifer. He craved for lots of things as a child, some examples including the fortune of his two powerful parents who were players in the banking union. Above all else, he desired power and knowledge, as any normal person might. Anyways, Adam learned a fair amount from his school. Mostly about history and other parts of the world, and some basics in mathematics. Unlike his sister though, Adam didn't really know what he wanted to study, and ultimately decided on learning as much as he could on the world's history. He primarily worked on studying about the world's culture and history. But over the course of time, Adam has forgotten about much of this, focusing on other things.
Eventually, Adam's studies on the world led to him starting to feel nomadic. Unfortunately, he had no information on any sort of job offering a chance to explore the world, and as such, eventually dwindled in the country for many years, until the funds his parents had supplied him with had ultimately been spent. At this point in time, he was getting desperate to explore the world. So when he learned that his sister was offered a place on the ship, he was ecstatic. Of course, without an invitation of his own, Adam would simply be devastated if the ship departed again without him. Even though it'd likely eventually come back, he'd likely have run out of money by then, and be reduced to sleeping in the streets, or dead. He desperately asked around, approaching all his colleagues and friends, which he had little of. Eventually, word of Adam and his plot to join the ship spread around, and he was approached one day by a man, who worked on board the ship. He was offered a position, and that was that. Adam grabbed what little he had, and set off.
Unlike his sister, Adam found the ship much more comforting. His small room in the lower decks was quite cozy, and he really did enjoy the view of the waters. So far, Adam has remained quiet, rarely leaving his quarters, and even having minimal contact with his sister. Adam hopefully looks forward to soon start finding work and friends in the ship. Currently, he's quite content, finally happy to at least be beginning to travel what was left of the world. Who knows what's in store ahead? Adventure, knowledge, and probably a large amount of failure and death. Good times in store!
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
Adamwould be sitting on a stool in a dingy, cramped bar in the lowest decks. Because he's poor, a small glass of cheap beer would be on the counter in front of him. Sitting on the stool to his left would be an inebriated, dirty looking man, laughing to himself. He appears to be quite tipsy.
The Filthy Vagrantstands, and almost immediately stumbles into Adam, immediately causing the two to stumble over in a pathetic little pile, the stool following in pursuit, and instantly falling and hitting poor Adam in the face. Additionally, Adam's cheap beer would have been spilled, making a mess on the floor.
Adamangrily attempts to shove the man off, and stands himself up. He begins to yell at the man about how he's quite bothered that the man spilled his drink and how he's now got to walk around with a bruise on his face. The man in his intoxicated state, only processes incoherent shouting.
The Filthy Vagrant, confused by the man shouting at him, instinctively goes to hit the man in the face. Caught off guard, Adam is caught by the man's right hand swing, and collapses to the ground, holding his bruised face delicately.
The Bartender, only just noticing the commotion, as he's not a particularly perceptive man, begins to yell at the two, and unravels a metal baseball bat from beneath the the counter.
Adamsheepishly mutters to himself incoherently about how he'll never return to such a dingy place, and how it was a huge waste of money and time, despite being a cheap ******* and only spending very little for a cheap beer that he wasn't even drinking, really. Defeated, Adam trudges off to return to his quarters.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
This is where my wittiest or most philosophical quote would go.
Denied! As you said, he's a bit of a white-knight it seems. Also read the rules again, you missed something. Aside from that, the backstory is also a little lackluster. Increase the size and details then apply again.
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
1/20/2014
Posts:
42
Member Details
OOC:
In game name: Quatral
Timezone: Pacific Standard Time
Age: 16
What role-playing experience do you have?: Echoes of Mankind, Fallout: Wild Wastelands, Romecraft: Legacy, Romecraft: Incursio Britannia, Romecraft: Imperivm Romanvm, Echoes of the Ancients, Telcore Tradewinds.
Why did you choose us?: 'Cause y'all have nice abs
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): You got me
IC:
Name: Patrick Vaght
Age: 43
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Aryan
Place of Birth: New Rotterdam
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: A thin but well defined man, Patrick stands at six foot exactly. With a bald spot taking ground from his tactically retreating hairline, he sports a meager head of greying blonde hair. Such a set of follicles is swept to the right in a neatly done comb over. Below a slightly wrinkled and sun tarnished forehead lays a pair of pushy and well-kept eyebrows. Further down, one would visually bump into his two blue eyes, both of which sit slightly back in the gaunt facial feature of Mister Vaght. To the right and left and slightly back lay his two sharp and thin ears, proportioned in the manner of a first class Aryan male. But, of course, away from the profile and back to the portrait. His mouth sits as a thin line between a well-proportioned Germanic nose, and a definably boney chin. Patrick Vaght's high cheek bones stretch the worn white skin over his aforementioned gaunt features. Down his decently sized neck, his sternum resides atop a stern and defined rib structure, sporting little amount of discernible muscle tone. The various intricacies of his torso are fairly unimportant, as is the rest of Mister Vaght's Nordic bone structure.
Patrick has amongst his possessions a pair of reading glasses which he regularly wears when he is indulging in the occasional flip through of Mein Kampf. Upon his previously mentioned nondescript abdomen, he wears a white button up shirt which has been worn and faded to a light creamy brown. On top of such a shirt piece, is Mister Vaght's prize brown tweed jacket which he removed from the corpse of an endearing political opponent. Upon his legs, he wears brown corduroy pants with a black leather belt, the buckle of which was long ago replaced by a clothe piece. The feet upon which his legs sit, bear two fairly well put together dress socks of a black color. Across the toes of these socks is a thin yellow thread stripe, which stand starkly against the deep shade of the rest of his socks. The shoes he wears are brown leather, soled with a thick leather strip and well cobbled at its seams. Mister Vaght's undergarments consist of a thin white cotton shirt which he wears under the button up shirt. Beneath his corduroy pants, rest a pair of finely tailored satin underwear. Sitting upon his supple hips, these textile wonders are patterned in a minimalistic black and red. The checkerboard style speaks to the ideological goals of his person.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Patrick is a proud man, of a very righteous path of action. His stubborn and willful nature is his strength and limitation. Willing to die for the sake of his beliefs, he will not yield in face of mortal danger. Yet this double edged sword blocks him from being able to make distasteful yet useful allies. Coming from his childhood, he holds a fear to the superstitious belief in the lower holds of any waterborne vessel. Whilst his more mental restraints are meager, his mere lack of physical strength is what sets him back amongst others. Being a rather intellectual man, this is counterbalanced by a sharp mind with a likewise keen intellect.
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: None
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
Born to a middle aged couple in the year 2037, Patrick was one amongst various children born aboard New Rotterdam. The city they dwelt upon was a mesh of small craft and barges. This floating city was where Patrick Vaght was born, his aforementioned parents were, Helena and Edmond Vaght. Both of them were survivors of the initial flooding in the Dutch lowlands. Being caught off guard, the Netherlander government was unable to properly prepare their people for the overflow of the dikes. Although names after Rotterdam, the barge city itself was made up of survivors from all across north coastal Europe. When the Vaght's were hit by the flooding in their home in metropolitan Amsterdam, the death toll was massive. Only the lucky few like them were able to steal aboard the small amount of civilian craft left loosely moored in the harbor. Originally being a meager fleet of fishing craft overladen with survivors, debris and other craft were cobbled together to support for survivors. The christening of this floating city occurred on June 23rd, 2024. And so, the scene is set for Patrick's birth aboard this material conglomerate of scrap and vessels.
Whilst growing up, the young Patrick would be happy to find various other youths who were born to the large amounts of families springing up across New Rotterdam. The years following the cities preliminary organization were a decent time. A smattering of miniscule islands where Scandinavia once was served as a port of call for the wayward barge city. So, the Vaght's lived a pleasant life, at least as pleasant as one can be on an almost entirely flooded planet. Raising their child, while trying to teach him to cope with the situation of his birth, the youthful period of Patrick's life could only be described as blissful. Yet this time would not remain so. In the year 2045, food supplies began to dwindle, and the former Swedish villages could no longer support themselves as well as New Rotterdam. Although mainly unaffected, eight year old Patrick was excited to hear that they would be heading further out to sea in search of natural food sources on the open ocean. As they hit rougher seas, Patrick's enthusiasm dwindled. His young playmates would take the same stance as their situation worsened. It was one occasion, on the 12th of December, 2046, that Patrick's worn out optimism would be put down entirely. Whilst gallivanting on the lower levels of one of the large fishing vessels that served as a generator sector, as well as housing for the engines, Patrick and his friends found trouble. The chugging thud of engine almost drowned out a scream from one of the children. The youths were horrified to find one of their friends mangled in an electric vermin trap. The boy's foot was bloodied and the leg was purple from the instantaneous high voltage shock. Looking up at them in sheer terror, he died there and then on the floor, mangled in that trap. The youth's childhood bliss was broken, and Patrick would adopt a lifelong cynicism regarding living at sea.
While New Rotterdam half drifted, half navigated its way westward, Patrick’s adolescence progressed in the same dreary manner. By the time Patrick was reaching his later teen years, the city had reached the frozen coast of United Greenland. A welcome reprieve to the increasingly depressing voyage of New Rotterdam, Patrick and a motley gang of youths went ashore with the appointed emissary to retrieve supplies. Intimidated by the comparable orderliness of the dockside, their party would make contact with the local government of the port. Scratching together anything they could trade, Patrick and the crew young men replenished New Rotterdam’s dwindling stock of food and medicine. While in port, Patrick’s heightened morale was somewhat broken when a band of Danish lads decided that Greenland was the last remnant of their home, and they wished to be there. The days in which New Rotterdam remained off the coast of the Greenlandic port were spent in hopeful but pessimistic celebration by the residents of New Rotterdam, this including Patrick. Such a departure by his slowly decreasing pool of compatriots did little to assist the deep set depression aboard New Rotterdam. Eventually, after a few days, New Rotterdam left as it had arrived, broken and adrift in an apocalyptic sea.
Patrick resigned to his cramped and claustrophobic quarters for a majority of the time after leaving Greenland. A perilous drifting venture southward yielded little discovery as New Rotterdam fell low to bandit attacks. It was in the year 2058, a month or so after Patrick had turned twenty one years of age. The worst of the attacks persisted, small craft would harass New Rotterdam until leaving into the horizon. Such events left Patrick to wonder where the craft had gone, what was their port of call? These worries brought Patrick before the New Rotterdam Council, to plead his case. Demanding that New Rotterdam equip one of the old fishing vessels with supplies to search for the bandit’s home, Patrick declared that the fate of City rested in the hands of immediate action. Deciding that putting so much effort into such a tentative decision, the Council denied Patrick’s request. This act sent Patrick back into a state of resignation and hopelessness. On the 50th day of the bandit attacks, the stock and population of New Rotterdam was at an all-time low.
On this same day, instead of firing off weapons and circling around New Rotterdam, the craft went straight for the city’s roughly crafted docks. The Council saw fit to enact a law that formed an emergency militia. Among these nervous men was Patrick, eager to at least finally confront their persistent aggressor. Armed with old side arms and nightsticks gathered from deep within storage, they waited in the dock office for the first of the ships to come alongside. This instant never came, instead, out in the mist of the Atlantic rose a behemoth. A rusted plate covered mammoth of a vessel, a Maersk Triple E ship outfitted with armaments and crawling with pirates and other dregs of apocalyptic society. This relic of the past encroached on the city, stopping only hundreds of meters from New Rotterdam. Patrick was somewhat reassured that the pirates had a human origin, and wasn’t the source of something more, sinister. Yet the worry remained amongst the men at the dock. As a vessel stormed forwards from the cluster of small craft towards New Rotterdam, they waited eagerly. Hooking to the side of New Rotterdam’s dockside with all manner of cobbled together grappling hooks and harpoons, the men descended. The bandits ignored the stunned men in the dock office, leaving to scout out the barge city. Coming to their senses, the small band if militiamen sprung out from their hiding, firing off their petty weapons at the rear of the pirate’s cluster. Taken off guard, they engaged in heavy firefighting. The casualties on both sides slowly grew as the bandits were able to reassert their dominance in firepower and numbers. A retreat was sounded amongst the militiamen. By now, like crows, the rest of the pirate small craft descended on New Rotterdam. Coming on all sides of the city, a general alarm was sounded in the city.
Being among the few to make it to the lower levels, Patrick assembled their small numbers in the holds of the city. The ever-present fear and memory of his friend’s horrifying end long ago still engaged Patrick’s memory. While the pirates rampaged across the decks of New Rotterdam, the cluster of men and women huddled around Patrick. Trying his best not to act as scared as everyone else, his pitiful attempts to be authoritative failed. It would be this night they slept in that bare and swamped hold. In the morning, they came out to find the blackened soot of a faulty grenade stained across the door. Emerging to the deck would reveal that city was largely intact. Patrick would search for others, finding few had been killed at all. More learning of the events of last night would reveal that the Council had traded off most of their supplies and children for the survival of the city. This decision would anger Patrick, once more severely disappointed by the actions of New Rotterdam’s government. Their journey across the South Atlantic would be largely devoid of pirates, despite Patrick’s suspicions of black spots on the fringe of their foggy line of sight. Either way, New Rotterdam progressed unmolested westwards, limping on pitifully supplied engines.
It was on the 4th of August, 2064, that New Rotterdam would encounter civilization once more. Whilst watching the sea at the front of the City’s movement, land was sighted. At first the memories of a beleaguered New Rotterdam approaching Greenland sprung to his mind, the memory of that hulking vessel charging forth from the mist like a hound of hell. Such elicited thoughts made Patrick worry, then he saw what seemed to be a settlement on the yellowed brown coast ahead. At the same time he saw this, over the jury rigged intercom a loud mechanical voice was heard, announcing the siting of land what seemed to be a populated settlement. This affirmation replaced Patrick’s fear with sheer excitement. As New Rotterdam came closer, a small zodiac craft was seen approaching the city barge. A small flag fluttered in the wind at the tail end of the fast moving boat. As it came closer, a small delegation of the Council waited at the dock, awaiting the craft. Docking, it was realized that they were off the coast of Africa. Patrick watched as the men discussed their situation. White Afrikaners that has lived at the southern tip of wild African territory, fighting warlords and bandits for years after the rising of the oceans. In awe of these well-kept gentlemen, Patrick watched as they went to be fully welcomed by the New Rotterdam Council.
New Rotterdam was highly encouraged to come to stay near port. The Afrikaner settlement was made up of mostly white militants and guerrillas living out of barracks and shacks. Patrick more often preferred to stay amongst the Afrikaners on land. Despite reaching a new port, most of the inhabitants of New Rotterdam were wary of the Afrikaners. As New Rotterdam took on supplies, Patrick remained in the camp of the militants, engaging with people. Something like this hadn’t been attempted since the depressing departure from Greenland. Also the first time since the pirate raids that he had had to use fire arms, he reacquainted himself with the practice. New Rotterdam had arrived in what the Afrikaners called “Drakensberg” on the 4th of August, 2064. Since then, the city prospered in its own way, trading somewhat with the militarized inhabitants of Drakensberg. Patrick lived and ate on land with the militants, becoming familiarized with the culture that the Afrikaners retained since the apocalyptic flooding. In such, the racial views of the Afrikaners fascinated him, being able to classify and group other peoples was an entirely new concept to his small yet expanding view of the world. After three months of staying off the coast of Drakensberg, New Rotterdam began considering leaving and searching even further westward for supplies. A portion of the New Rotterdam supported leaving for even better prospects abroad. Yet another contingent opposed leaving what they considered to be a veritable paradise, and source of protection. Patrick was amongst the latter party, and felt he had found a new home in Drakensberg. It was on the 18th of May that he was approached by one of Drakenberg’s commanders. A physically inclined man with a heavy Afrikaans accent, his name was Karl van de Merwe. Karl had known that the arrival of New Rotterdam had created possibilities for the militants in Drakensberg, and saw the decent disposition of Patrick as a way of achieving his goals. An offer to take New Rotterdam in a coup of the Drakensberg fighters perturbed Patrick at first. Yet as they spoke, he realized that it was the best way to achieve his own personal wishes. As he exited the commander’s barracks, he had decided to assist in the militant expulsion of democracy in New Rotterdam, and replace it with an Afrikaner government.
The next day, Patrick left with a loose platoon of the fighters on three of the small boats. Pulling up to the docks, the dreary residents of New Rotterdam were astonished to find that the men and women bore arms. Swiftly moving through the silent and surprised populace, they were able to make their way to the Council building. As Patrick entered the structure with his fellows, he took in the rusted and clammy nature of its old welded walls. This was decidedly a sign of need for change in the style of leadership present at New Rotterdam. Swiftly taking prisoner of and shooting the dissident politicians within the structure, by noon of that day they had claimed full takeover of New Rotterdam. Patrick was able to view another swarm of small craft sweeping towards the barge city laden with men and supplies. Commander van de Merwe had planned to relocate his beleaguered men to New Rotterdam, as their mission to combat the warlords in what remained of South Africa fell out of light. The move onto New Rotterdam lasted a few hours as Patrick assisted in the taking on of military supplies. The food and medicine taken aboard was welcome by many residents, but few liked the presence of the Afrikaners, and the violent death of their beloved council members. It was on the 23rd of May, that year, Patrick was happily on watch; the City leaving on newly acquired fuel from the militant’s depot’s pushing them onwards and westwards.
The city would go on with little dissent against the militant rule of Commander van de Merwe. It was in the months that followed their departure that Patrick would become more acquainted with the racial dissemination of Afrikaner philosophy. The racial ties of the original Dutch and Northern Germanic population of New Rotterdam created a connection of sorts between them and the Afrikaner combatants. Taking this to his advantage, van de Merwe began the process of extolling the virtues of the white Afrikaner people. The wary people of New Rotterdam started to embrace their status as Afrikaners, the slight language and racial barriers were all but broken. Patrick reveled in the authority brought from being associated with van de Merwe’s Afrikaners. Full racial designation and categorization began on the 30th of May, 2066. Van de Merwe’s was eager to employ this tactic on a domestic population, and was glad to have Patrick Vaght lead the vanguard. Having the only literate knowledge of Afrikaner Apartheid and the classifications used by their South African counterparts, Patrick welcomed the role with likewise enthusiasm. The process that followed was the tedious but enjoyable experience of registering each resident in New Rotterdam. Glad to contribute to what he considered a newly founded Afrikaner utopia aboard New Rotterdam, Patrick went to the work with a sense of what can only be described as patriotic zeal. Although an alien concept, thoughts of Dutch and Boer national pride flooded the young mind of Patrick Vaght. Although things went at a decent pace, he struck a point at which things troubled him. Despite knowing that various people of black African descent lived on New Rotterdam, he’d truly never had the time to engage one face to face. It was one of these very people he ran in to while running the Afrikaner census out of the old Council building. Albeit not a particular problem, he felt disgruntled when he registered the seemingly pleasant man as “Colored”. The registration went on for the rest of the week, the occasional colored registration being made. By the end of the registration period, Patrick felt a sense of pride in single handedly carrying out a racial census of New Rotterdam.
When van de Merwe received word of the completed census, he called for a council of the Afrikaner militant lieutenants. Priding himself in being counted among this elite few, Patrick attended the event. It was here that van de Merwe dictated their next steps in furthering Afrikaner progress in New Rotterdam. By registering the people of New Rotterdam, he felt they could create a "state of apartness" amongst the population. It was at this council that Patrick and his fellows agreed to border New Rotterdam off into districts, colloquially referred to as “homelands”. Thinking little of the colored men and women he’d marked down on the registry, he had whole heartedly supported the racial separation of their barge city. Leaving the council contentedly, Patrick Vaght felt secure in his position and views on the world. An unparalleled state of confidence ruled, the Afrikaner government aboard New Rotterdam was working very well for him. In this same span of time, roughly during the month of August, in the year 2067, the Afrikaners had created an effectively totalitarian civil government on New Rotterdam. Using their military supplies and the capable leadership of van de Merwe to raid warring settlements on the eastern coast of what remained of Africa. Through this tactic, they remained well supplied and fed, morale was high among the military and civilian population. New Rotterdam would remain in this decent shape until the year 2070, in the month of July.
At this time, New Rotterdam had sailed far from the coasts of Africa, visiting and trading with Oil Conglomerates in the middle east, exchanging small arms fire with Chinese patrol craft. It was almost as if the old view of poverty had shifted. What was once destitute was now considered well off, what was once considered moderate living was now seen as a plutocratic fantasy. The standard of living overall shifted downwards, but the elapsed time seemed to erase clear memories of their lives before. Only the elderly and near to dying remembered the world before flooding. It seemed that these things did not bother Patrick, as he continued with the monotony of his duties as head of van de Merwe’s “New Rotterdam Institute of Racial Progress”. A lengthy title for what was the main body that controlled the homelands and their inhabitants. Patrick Vaght ruled from his position with an indifferent view on the minorities under his grasp. Although the thought of that first colored man to be registered by him still haunted his day dreams, he gave no serious mind to the fate of those he condemned to racially based poverty. The desperate conditions of the Colored homelands in the lower spaces and decks of New Rotterdam were unseen and unheard of to most others. While he maintained the relatively small staff of his institute, they performed regular yearly censuses of the city’s population. Although not yielding drastic data, the constant and regular record keeping eased the minds of Patrick. In the late days of July, 2070, his grip on the situation began to break down. With Karl van de Merwe becoming more and sicklier in his age, and the conditions of constant sea living, his lieutenants were left to command New Rotterdam from their respective positions. It was Bram Verwoerd who turned the motley band of Afrikaner militants into a civil police force for New Rotterdam in 2069. Left to his devices, others such as Johannes Vorster, would create a generally organized economy for the ship city. Despite their isolated nature, those aboard New Rotterdam created a working economy out of their own private business. The nurturing of these businesses by Mister Vorster would allow the city to operate independently with a contented white population. The breakdown of control began on the 29th of July, when Mister Verwoerd led a squad of his men into a colored homeland block to harass and attack supposed “dissenters”. This outbreak of attacks led to retaliation against white civil protectors patrolling the homelands.
Ignoring the situation of the homelands, Patrick continued consolidating his basis of power as head of the Institute. Although using his position as leverage, Patrick stigmatized the colored dissidents, lending Afrikaner sympathies to the affronted civil defenders of Bram’s forces. The censuses after that July ceased to account for colored homelands, as the violence within them was becoming an uncontainable issue. The population growth within the respective homelands made it so civil protection could no longer subjugate them single handedly. This threat would erupt in 2070, on the 4th of August. The celebrated 6th anniversary of the meeting between the Drakensberg Afrikaners, and New Rotterdam served as the catalyst for all out conflict between Afrikaners and the colored homeland residents. Patrick ignored warning signs of rebellion amongst the colored population, while Bram pleaded to the other lieutenants of an ailing van de Merwe for aide in combating the issue. (Don't forget your old shipmates) On that very day, the 6th, colored residents who referred to themselves as “homelanders”, took to the decks. What started as an Afrikaner festival of union, descended into a racially divided riot. With Bram unable to control the situation, Patrick rallied his supporters and other Afrikaners by storming the armory for supplies. Equip with military weapons, they fought back the colored rioters, and effectively ended the short lived rebellion. With Patrick at the helm of what was essentially an armed mob, he brought forward Bram to the head of the crowd. Using the fervor of the moment, Patrick had Bram shot for treason in neglect to his duties as commander of civil protection. Not wishing to lose his precious limelight, it was at this same night, Patrick made a speech. This speech pledged that he would take the helm of New Rotterdam in place of the ill van de Merwe. Already a known protégé to the older Afrikaner, this was accepted with little dissent. It was at this same speech, that Patrick Vaght declared himself new commander of civil protection, naming their new officers and lieutenants. Having officially taken over New Rotterdam with a network of his subordinates and supporters, Patrick decided they would have to take a new course.
The early years of 2070 brought New Rotterdam back down along the coast of east Africa. This slow journey proved lucrative as they were able to once more raid the bickering tribes of warlord led Africans. The small victories only gained more support for Patrick Vaght in his position as “Chief Protector of Rotterdam and its people, Commander of the Afrikaner Guard”. This title became the basis for a personality cult, the successes found so far only proof that New Rotterdam had only good things in store with Patrick Vaght at its head. His Dutch background and loyalties to the Afrikaners created a cultural bond that generated widespread support from the populace. The eventual death of van de Merwe in 2071, on November 15th only cemented his place at the head of New Rotterdam. Using the death of van de Merwe as a martyr for the Afrikaner movement, they came full circle with a memorial stop at the old camp of Drakensberg. What they found was a surprisingly large encampment of African bandits. Deciding that he must further ground himself as the supreme leader of Rotterdam, it was Patrick himself who led the combatants out on small craft to assault the base. Being no stealthy vessel, the raiders were already alerted to the presence of New Rotterdam. Their attack at night made no difference, fixed machine guns shattering the line of zodiac craft. Those that made it ashore were cut down by the oddly disciplined bandits. It was Patrick who directed his own craft amongst a few others to turn back. Alerting the citizenship of their failure, Patrick returned to the capitol building to strategize. Deciding that the use of small craft would only be worthless against their guns, he wished to bring New Rotterdam closer to the shore. This decision was met with uneasiness amongst his surviving commanders, but they carried it out. Now bringing the city within hundreds of meters of the port, they came dangerously close to grounding. Now employing their own heavier weapons, they exchanged machine gun fire with the bandits for the remainder of the morning and well into the evening.
It was at 8 pm that evening they launched another attack under the cover of machine gun fire. Once more leading the charge, Patrick Vaght wished to redeem his earlier unpopular losses to the bandits. With this new found fire support, more men made it ashore to combat the bandits. In the fighting, Patrick fell low to gunshot wounds to the lower abdomen. Thus forcing him to be brought back to the boat, his men persisted the fight. The thud of the machine guns on New Rotterdam came to a halt at midnight, finally drying up their ammunition stores. The fighters on shore fought their way into the base, coming into lighter and lighter resistance as they progressed. The final recapture of Drakensberg was a heavy loss to the forces of Rotterdam, but Patrick refused to allow this to be portrayed so. From his hospital bed, Patrick Vaght wrote an address to be given by Johannes Vorster. This address outlined the symbolic reclamation of Drakensberg, and the declaration of a Voortrekken policy they must take with all hostile attempts to usurp what as rightfully theirs. This strong willed approach was well accepted amongst the indoctrinated citizen of New Rotterdam. It was several weeks after the fighting, during which a formal service was given for van de Merwe at Drakensberg, that Patrick made a full recovery from his wounds. Declaring they would set out, the supplies taken from the raiders there would be their last until another stop. Going northwards led New Rotterdam back into the foggy Atlantic Ocean. Memories of that bandit vessel penetrated the mind of Patrick Vaght, memories of the atrocities committed by his council were stark and clear. Yet no ship came, the bandit craft that haunted the edges of their line of sight never came close to the barge city of New Rotterdam. These years, during the middle 70’s, Patrick felt the same desperation of New Rotterdam of his youth set back in. Refusing to allow this to happen, he decided to strike back against the setting in depression.
In the months of March, on the 24, in the year 2074, Patrick Vaght led several social programs to turn around the situation. By reviving the censuses of the Institute, a patriotic sense of being an Afrikaner swept over New Rotterdam once more. The population of colored peoples in the homelands healthily rose back to their old levels. The decision to avoid attacks on the homelands was made when Patrick Vaght decreed a self-ruling act that essentially left the homelands to their own devices aboard the ship. Such a decision ensured his popularity not only among the white Afrikaners, but the colored population of the homelands. Yet the destitute conditions remained, and dissent in the homelands was not unheard of. Although these things did not bother Patrick as he ensured the supporting New Rotterdam citizens continued to favor him. By enacting more laws that would loosen the somewhat strict economic guidelines set by Vorster, the freedom of trade expanded. Disgruntled by this overstepping of authority, Johannes made little mind to the actuality of his decline of power.
It was in the year 2078, that Patrick Vaght led the city back towards Greenland. The approach to the harbor was greeted with the sight of what seemed to be the largest vessel any of them had ever seen. A comparably gargantuan Aircraft carrier sat in harbor at the Greenlandic port. Entering to trade, the barge city floated tentatively at the fringes of port traffic while a small craft maneuvered in. On board was Vorster and Vaght, along with a compliment of specialists and guards. This contingent entered to trade, extracting deals for more fuel and supplies, although failing to find those who would sell them the mass amount of ammunition they required. The deal was eventually struck with the Greenlandic port authorities, and the men went back to inform New Rotterdam. The supplies were sent off, and new cargo was taken on that day. The labor of trade was celebrated in the government building with newly acquired drinks and food. The entire city rested easy that night, the Afrikaner ideal snugly set in their minds. At midnight, Vaght was rudely awoken at gunpoint by a man dressed in seemingly dark clothes. The man herded the confused and tired Vaght down the corridors of the government sector. Reaching the deck, he looked about to find Vorster surrounded by a thuggish gang of unfamiliar faces. As it so happened, while Vaght expanded his power base, Vorster was consolidating his own. Taking on mercenaries from port as well as inducting his own cronies to the financial sector of their government. The confused Vaght along with what was recognizably, his lieutenants, were sent to one of the small craft in their finest clothes. The motley assortment of six men shuffled aboard in a confused manner. As they were winched down, Vaght spat swears up at the men, which elicited a thrown metal bar from one of the men above. Thus the men below were silenced, and the small craft made its way to port. Collected by port authorities in their suspicious boat in the middle of the night, they were sent to the port offices. Detained there for a time, their situation was finally cleared up by morning. The Port authorities sympathized with the man, and sent a boat out to New Rotterdam. Yet when the boat returned, they report New Rotterdam had left in the night, long before any of this had been discovered. Incensed, Patrick Vaght sat to contemplate his future in the office.
Eventually told it was best to leave and get things in order, he and his compatriots rose and left. Discussing their future, some felt they should try their luck here in Greenland. It was Patrick Vaght who wishes to find some way back onto the waters and a craft of some kind. Like the other men, he had lived on New Rotterdam for a majority of his life, yet he yearned not to find something new, but to relive the old ways of his seafaring city. The middle aged man concluded he would find some vessel that would take him, parting ways with his Afrikaner comrades for what they thought would be the last time. Drifting through the port, Patrick got word of the U.S.S. Defiance taking on citizens to live there. Remembering the massive carrier ship in harbor, he was excited at the thought, despite his situation. Making his way to the dock office, he inquired and found a man who could direct him to the Defiance. Making his way with the clothes on his back, Patrick went to the ship. Taking a craft aboard, he was taken onto the intimidating vessel. Whilst navigating the deck of the ship, Patrick spied all manner of races and ethnicities. Patrick sighed to this realization, he had much work to do.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
Patrick howled in pain as he fell low to the gunshot wound. Having struck him in the lower stomach, he writhed in pain and agony. Crying out he declared,
“For the love of god, somewhat, I’ve…”
His words were drowned out by gunfire and his own moans of pain. The assault had not gone as planned in his eyes, the bandits were somehow better organized. Dispelling the thought that any Negro could outclass his unparalleled Afrikaner Guard, Patrick was once more consumed by pain. Running to his side, a militant slides to crouch next to him,
“Heer, you are shot, we’ll get you help, no worries at all!”
Nodding in annoyance while cringing uncontrollably in pain, Patrick lapses into unconsciousness. The man in joined by another militant with a rifle slung across his back. The two nod to each other, taking Patrick Vaght by his elbows down the rocky beach to the shore. The shattering hail of gunfire on both sides makes it impossible for either to communicate. Loading Mister Vaght onto the small craft, they begin to roll it into the sea. Joined by another man, they climb aboard, starting the engine and taking it out back to New Rotterdam. Coughing away, spitting blood, Patrick looks at the sky in pain,
“What… we’ve won it yet? Van de Merwe would be so disappointed…”
Nodding hurriedly, one of the men responds with a reassuring smile,
“Yes Heer, we’re mopping up the Negroes in the camp, there’s nothing left to stop us.”
Discouraged by the still loud gunfire on the beach, Patrick remains silent. Deciding that these men are just trying to have good bedside manner, he plays along and nods slowly, the other man pressing a cloth to his chest,
“Very good, we’ll hold a service tomorrow most likely…”
The men all nod with cheery smiles on their faces. Sliding back into unconsciousness, Patrick remains comatose while they are winched aboard. Rushed to the hospital aboard New Rotterdam, they stand by his bed until shooed out by doctors. Treated by nurses and surgeons, the bullets are removed. The scars and injuries leave Patrick forever bent slightly at the torso.
What role-playing experience do you have?: Plenty. Akavir, LoTC, EoM, and forum format
Why did you choose us?: Because you shut EoM down
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): michaelandikealcandy (for those who can't connect the dots... like most everyone who expects me to use the same name on both accounts)
IC:
Name: Javier Jimenez (pronounced Havier Himenez)
Nickname (because I can): Javy (pronounced Ha-Vee)
Age: 53
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Latinamerican
Place of Birth: Caguas, Puerto Rico
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Black, straight hair halfway down the neck, shaggy with white streaks running through it. Tan skin, rather muscular, 5'11'', and occasionally slips into Spanish when speaking.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Doesn't get sea sick unless the seas are in hurricane conditions, Hates rats, has a large amount of stamina, won't eat anything but rice and beans or bread (consult his bio)
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: A small tarp held up by two sticks on the top deck with a small butane stove which he uses for cooking his own personal food and anyone else's if they like slightly mushy rice and beans.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs): Javier was born in Caguas in the mountains, only a few meters from the water's edge. His parents were both native Puerto Ricans, although they both had been born in Ponce but were forced to run to the mountains with most of the other people who were already far enough away from the coast to even have a warning. Javier's parents were one of a group of six families that lived on the island that had once been a part of the central mountain chain. Several of the families began building makeshift bridges out of planks nailed to mostly empty barrels that were tide together, thus making passages between valleys to other mountain chains that were then filled with water.
Javier was raised on rice, beans, and bread (I figure out how to make it work in game later) and so never had the guts to eat anything but those three items, except if you count coffee, of which there was plenty since no nukes had hit the island, mostly because of its lack of strategic value, and the mountain range where they were was at one time a coffee plantation.
After a while, Javier and his family decided it was time to move on. Most of the families were dying off because of adverse health conditions and overall distrust that had formed between the groups of families. One day, a miracle seemed to happen, an old cruise liner simply drifted on by, completely abandoned. Later, Javier discovered that the former occupants had disembarked and were waiting for it to be refueled, and were about to get back on when the flooding took over and killed all, if not most, of them, thus leaving the ship to drift away from port.
Javier and his family boarded after a fierce battle between families that all had built rafts to try and board the vessel. By this time he was already in his 30s, but was still going strong. He, along with his ailing father and depressed mother, began to sail in the direction of their choosing. The fuel ran out halfway through the journey, but because of the currents, they continued at a snails pace. During this time his father died of the sickness that had claimed most of the other islanders, and his mother jumped over the side of the boat with the body, leaving Javier alone and sobbing.
He drifted along the oceans, barely eating, barely living, until one day, his 52nd birthday, the vessel shook violently. Javier got out and saw a frozen land before him, without a clue where he even was. He packed some supplies and took a jaunt out into the open where he wondered for several months.
Finally, he reached a populace. He was drained, he had run out of his food several days before and had been living on snow. He was frail, and on the verge of collapse when a man found him and saved him. This man lived on a boat, or so he said, and because of Javier's gratitude to the man, he joined him on said boat.
The days drifted by slowly on one of the trips, and one morning, Javier woke up to find the man cold as stone, having died in the night. Javier resolved to continue on the ship on the same spot that man had, under the very tarp his friend Florence had died.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
*Javier Shakes the pan back and forth on the small stove, the food barely even sizzling.
Herkimer: Hey, Javy, how's them beans goin?
Javier: Their going, rather slow though.
Herkimer: Any chance I can have some?
Javier: Sure you can have some, but you'll have to wait a bit.
*Herkimer sits down in front of the stove waiting for it to cook.
(What? Do you expect something epic? Javier isn't really the epic type, but he never forgets his old shipmates)
What role-playing experience do you have?: I have a lot of Roleplay experience, I’ve LARP’d, I’ve been on many Roleplay servers, and now even a co-DM for the Roleplay club I started at my school, so I have a good 3 or 4 years under my belt.
Why did you choose us?: I was browsing the Roleplay servers and this one looked promising, I never went onto a post-apocalyptic sort of server before, so I think this will be an interesting new experience, I also liked how the lore was presented, it made it more interesting (then again, that WAS probably the most interesting lore I’ve ever read.)
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): spencer.cossey2
IC:
Name: Walter
Age: 23 (born in 2057)
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Caucasian, Welsh/Canadian
Place of Birth: United union
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Walter is a generally an average looking man; Average height, average build, and average weight. Although, Something that isn’t so average is the way he dresses, his favorite outfit is a black suit, with black slacks, a blue undershirt, a tie, and of course his favorite hat. Everything aside from his hat, shirt and tie are black, well, at least they WERE black, and many years of being worn greyed the once bold black a bit. As well, the clothes are a bit torn, and need some patchwork. Aside from that, his hair is black, his eyes are brown, and his skin colour is just slightly tanned. He also has a mustache. Because they’re cool.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Walter is a rather outgoing man, with quite a sense of pride, and even a bit hotheaded if you were to challenge said pride, that being said, he quite the actor and performer. He gets cocky often, and usually gets in fights... and loses them, but he’s able to step back up and ******** his way out of the situation. Walter isn’t exactly the smartest person all of the time (in both book smarts and street smarts) and his educational up bringing was sub-par.
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: He owns a small apartment of the ship, in the towns on the flight deck.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
I was born in United Union, around where the denser cities are. My upbringing was a rather average one, with my family being as close to middle class as you got in the ‘new world’ or so I’ve been told. My school was not the greatest; being only about thirty years since the seas rose the place was still recovering. Most of the text books were wrecked, or written in so much to the point they were unreadable, the teachers didn’t do very good jobs either, not to mention food was absolutely terrible! But looking back, I suppose I was the one writing in the books and goofing off… but anyways. Throughout my school ‘career’ I found myself loving the history classes, more so the small section of the year focusing on the early 1900, around WW2, I found myself fascinated, and I seemed to have quite a liking to this time period. The architecture, the movies I’ve read about, the culture, and most importantly the fashion! I loved the fashion in this era, so I tried to replicate it, which is why I love my suit so much.
*mrhrm* anyways, by the time I finished schooling, I was well into an acting career, doing shows here and there, which were all tones of fun and I found I really quite enjoyed acting, even in school I would always sell my speeches during a class even if I had no idea what I was talking about! A bit later in life I found myself interested in seeing the world (a bit cliché I know) and I remembered seeing the grand Ship -The Defiance-, and I imagined it how great it would have been to travel across the sea, looking at other cultures and so on. Luckily, my family was able to save up enough money to send on the ship, since they wanted me to see the world as much I wanted to, that, or they wanted to get rid of me. When I boarded the ship, it wasn’t quite like I imagined it, which is feeling a bit lonesome, perhaps because it was someplace I’ve never been before, but anyways… I was able to secure a small home on the flight deck with the funds my parents gave me, so I’ll have to deal with that eventually, but for now the ship is off to Greenland, as my first time away from home. When I arrived there, taking in the new sights, one of the sailors turned to me “when you leave the ship for good, don’t forget yer old shipmates” he said, and I looked him in the eye and nodded “I won’t”.
RP scenario:
Walter walked down the road, seeming especially pleased with himself today, when all of a sudden he bumps into another man who wasn’t looking where he was going.
Walter: “oh dear, my boy, do watch where you’re going, you wouldn’t want to hurt someone now would you?” Walter brushed off his sleeves.
Man: “hey, what do you mean watch where I’m going? You were the one who wasn’t watching himself.” The man makes himself bigger by puffing his chest.
Walter: “clearly you need to learn some manners, roughian” Walter pulled his sleeves down and put his fists in front of him, ready to fight. The man simply slugs him the gut and he falls to the ground, clutching his stomach “yes, do move along now.. (ugh), I’ll just be on the ground here”
Man: “Next time watch where you’re going” the man shows Walter his fists.
Walter: “Will do!” Walter says over his shoulder at the now departing stranger.
What role-playing experience do you have?: I've been roleplaying for two years now, and I have had roleplayed on a good few servers for example: Crafthammer, Lord Of The Craft, Erecia, Echoes of the Ancients, and Echoes of Mankind. Most of my time was spent on Lord Of The Craft roleplaying as a orchish blacksmith/merchant, I spent my time on Crafthammer as a orcish shaman, on Echoes of The Ancients I spent time playing as a Nordic hunter, on Erecia I was a Undead miner, and on Echoes of Mankind I had roleplayed as a Super Mutant.
Why did you choose us?: I haven't roleplayed in quite a while and this is a unique idea so I'm willing try out a different form of roleplay. Second of all I want a chance to roleplay with you people again.
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): spawnfan55
IC:
Name: Nathan Carter
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Place of Birth: U.S.S Defiance
Defining characteristics and physical appearance:
Nathan Carter is moderately sized man standing at 5'11 weighing in around 190 pounds along with a wiry frame. He is a trained third generation U.S Navy diver with a little bit of knowledge of the area. Nathan has somewhat of a gruff attitude having somewhat of a tendency to ignore others and lashing out at anyone that mocks him. He lacks confidence in his abilities despite the fact he's one of the last U.S. Navy divers left onboard the ship alongside his brother. He retains the no-******** attitude of the U.S. Navy Divers he descends from, and because of that he's not afraid to call out on other's ********. He isn't as skilled as the original U.S. Navy divers in terms of operations and combat but he knows how to deal with ordnance and equipment at a somewhat decent level.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Nathan Carter has some knowledge of the world, ships, equipment, ordnance, and other junk left over from the flood, along with some knowledge of the Old World. He's trained in the use of diving equipment, underwater ordnance, and underwater operations as well. He has a lack of confidence in his abilities because he knows he will never be as good as the first generation U.S Navy divers. Nathan is nervous and on edge due to his experience with Search and Rescue missions and the like. He also deeply cares for his younger brother Joshua due to the amount of time they have spent alongside each other on missions
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind:
He shares a small cabin decorated with U.S. memorabilia and junk gathered up from ruins at the bottom of the ocean in the upper deck of the ship with his brother. His ordinary diving suit, diving equipment, personal weapons, and rebreather sit at the top of his closet alongside his brother's equipment. He owns a old M48 Talon survival spear alongside a Smith&Wesson CKSUR2 fixed blade search and rescue survival knife as well as a harpoon gun
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
Nathan Carter was born down in the medical bay of the ship to a Nuclear engineer named Margaret Johnson and a second generation U.S. Navy diver named Matthew Carter. His father was among the several dozen second generation trained U.S. Navy divers left on the aircraft carrier who aided in underwater missions and the like. He was a descendant of the original workforce of U.S. Navy divers that survived amongst the U.S.S. Defiance as the great flood encompassed most of the world’s land. They dedicated themselves to preserving the human race by performing many underwater operations and salvaging goods from the ruins of the old world left under the surface of the flooded world. Their numbers dwindled as the ship’s main personnel started to get overwhelmed by the many people who flocked upon the ship for shelter, turning the remaining U.S. Navy personnel into the minority as many civilians became the majority.
The U.S. Navy divers managed to retain most of their patriotic demeanor throughout the time after the flood, and this reinforced their resolve as they continued to help out the remainders of the human race. Nathan Carter was brought up in a patriotic environment that practically worshipped the dead U.S., where he was taught about the Old World’s history along with all the pre-disaster equipment that the U.S. Navy divers tend to salvage from the ruins of the Old World. Nathan Carter received limited training that taught him about some aspects of combat, diving, survival, and how to manage pre-disaster equipment and ordnance. He spent many years diving and performing missions alongside his father and the remaining U.S. Navy divers salvaging equipment and learning about the Old World, especially the U.S. as he grew up serving the remaining bits of command left on the ship. His view of the world constantly shifted as the ship was constantly on the move and dealing with trouble of some sort, from pirates to problems with food, to overpopulation, or problems with the internal systems of the ship.
His parents died when he was 21 during a mission that involved disarming pre-disaster mines causing a good amount of the U.S. Navy divers to die that he was not capable of going on due to a injury he had received in a brutal sparring match with a rival U.S. Navy diver. Nathan Carter grieved for several weeks till he was capable of moving on, acknowledging the fact that his parents were dead and he had to continue caring for the ship, it’s crew, and his brother. Several years past as he and his brother performed many underwater missions that felt rather empty without the familiar faces that they were used to diving with. He grew weary of the fact that the knowledge his parents contained about the Old World had gone with them, and he and his brother were stuck in a world where they had to learn on their own with very few people that could teach him the old ways, with little to remember their old shipmates by.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like):
Nathan Carter stands amongst the side of the deck alongside his brother as a crane lifts a small motorized raft for him to get in, whilst the crane raises the raft he goes to initiate a check on their diving equipment.
Joshua yawns slightly as his brother Nathan checks over the equipment. Joshua asks a simple question "What exactly are we diving for today?"
Nathan slightly snarls as he replies "The Navigator has ordered for us to dive for bits of scrap metal and to look for any sunken ships like usual."
Joshua sighs as they finish checking over the equipment and step into the raft as it rises to the top.
Nathan sits down and grunts casually stating "Rumor has it a woman is growing opium in her quarters, I don't know exactly how you can farm plants on a aircraft carrier, but I'll note if she is farming opium she is breaking several ship regulations but like anyone follows those anymore"
Joshua chuckles as they hit the water and look around, they go to turn on the motor and move out towards a certain spot in the ocean dotted with bits of buoyant floating bottles. He and his brother put on their diving suits and equipment and jump in the water.
Nathan looks around them as they slowly dive deeper down into a desolate abandoned city filled with large buildings. He brings a small crate with him down to the bottom as the two start gathering pieces of scrap metal, plastic, and many other random bits of scrap.
Joshua nods towards the crate as he moves over to secure it from Nathan.
Nathan's eyes fill with shock as he catches sight of a sunken fishing boat lodged in a alleyway between two buildings. He violently waves his hands at Joshua and points towards the ship.
Joshua shares Nathan's surprise as he notices the mediocre boat. He goes to strap the crate into a safe position as Nathan begins moving towards it.
Nathan swims closer towards the boat but notices something out of the ordinary when he's a large hole that appears to have bitten into the side. He slightly hesistates as a large hammerhead shark appears
hey, I'm thinking of doing an application and would like to ask something, you said 'we don't need too many Hannibal lectures running around the ship' but too many doesn't mean at least one surely?? - my point is I have been role playing on LOTC for a few years now and have a character with so much back story and him-ness that I really don't want to just give him up, the only problem he is sorta a cannibal ... Sooooo I was woundering if I could bring him over, editing the backstory in little ways to make it fit of course but still keep his main points?? And I know you say no pointless killings but if you do let me on, I won't kill that often and when I do I will make sure it is an RP masterpiece (heh, I'm not that good, will try my best though to make it fun for all) ... So please please please, could you allow my cannibal killer onto your server, after I have done an app OFC ... Just wanna know for my lore.
thanks, mini
Your maximum amount of allowed question mark use was exceeded, please egress the thread immediately.
While not put quite how I'd put it... I do agree with Quat here. No, you can't bring that character over to this server. If you'd like to apply with something different feel free to.
Look, The character is plain bad sounding. A character that exists like that is just asking for terrible roleplay. We don't need character that are 'chaotic evil'... It's just bad and promotes awful situations. If you really have to be a cannibal, that's fine. I've seen people do it decently well in the past, but they are calm and collected ones. Not violent psychopaths that attack everyone they see. Now to be honest, I don't think that's something you can pull off. Your grammar and spelling structure leave much to be desired.
Due to this, your have one(1) option if you still wish to apply. Scrap the character and start from new. He won't work here.
Progress continues rather well. We've done a lot of work on the current texture pack, with a nice bit of help from Dunder.
We hope to have it finished by the end of the week and posted in the OP. Once that's done, we can look into hiring some more builders to finish up the work still needed.
Hosting Provided by https://nentra.net/ Quality, inexpensive hosting for all your needs.
Immerse yourself within an in depth, constantly evolving server. The experience will be like nothing you have seen before, we’re bringing a unique take on an old tired version of servers. Give us a shot, see for yourself if it’s what you’re looking for. We’ll be waiting.
A couple key features of the server are as follows.
-A constantly changing server, New locations on a weekly or bi-weekly basis.
-An evolving storyline that starts and begins with your input.
-Exploration is encouraged and heavily rewarded. Though it comes with its own risks...
-Custom lore, not built upon any pre-existing game. This leaves a lot of room to work.
-Intricately designed locations, crafted from the ground up.
-Hand picked plugins selected to make your experience that much more enjoyable.
-Quality staff that are there for you and ready to help at a moments notice.
All staff are quite learned in their jobs, and will strive to make your experience here that much better. If you’re interested in joining the staff team, just show yourself to be a decent person. We’ll come to you, you don’t come to us.
Every server has rules, this is obvious and used to keep order within. Refer to both the OOC and IC rules to gain a clear grasp on what is expected of you. Breaking of a rule will warrant punishment, the severity of which will depend on the rules broken. Rules are subject to change at any time, check back from time to time to keep up to date.
OOC Rules
-Refrain from Powergaming
-Refrain from Metagaming
-Think logically about your actions, and use logic when performing something.
-Respect both your fellow players, and the staff members.
-Use of client side mods other than Optifine or Mini-maps is outlawed.
-Use the given resource pack.
- Don't craft diamond armor. It can only be found, not crafted.
- Once a character dies, It is required to make a new character application. Exceptions can be given out if a player has multiple deaths in a short span of time or other circumstances.
IC Rules
-Refrain from Powergaming
-Refrain from Metagaming
-Do not Kill on Sight or perform Random Death Matches.
-Put "Don't forget your old shipmates" somewhere within your application.
-Fights between characters are expected to be fought irp, not with pvp. The exception to this is when both parties agree, or in very large scale conflicts.
-Do not enchant armor or weapons. It’s just far too overpowered most of the time. Enchanted items given out by staff will have certain properties that distinguish them.
-RP death will happen at some point. When deciding if it’s a proper death or not use common sense. A shot to the head will kill you, you can’t ‘dodge’ out of the way. Try to refrain from killing other people’s character unless it’s fully necessary though.
-Being evil for the sake of being evil is not a valid character motive, don’t even try it.
-Trying to use a 'fake' gun in RP will result in confiscation and rollback of the RP. ( Tools are not guns )
- Radio Chat and using /msg as an IC radio can only be done if both parties have a proper radio.
- No ERP. Nothing past second base. For everyone's sake just fade to black.
-Stealing from other characters can only be done when they are online.
Follow the server lore when possible, and use it when figuring out your character’s back story. Out of place characters and actions will be reprimanded. Lore is a first person account from the ship’s previous captain, what is written here can be known In Character. Current date of the server is 2080.
Like any good story, we’ll start this one at the beginning. My ship, the Defiance, was a “Gerald Ford” class Air-craft Carrier. Forth of her class, she was launched in December of 2018. A proper gem of the United States Naval forces. She served mostly in a peacekeeping role within the Middle-East and parts of Asia. Defiance’s battle group was made up of two destroyers, a missile cruiser and an attack submarine. I’m getting off topic though… This is less than important for my goal. Let’s skip ahead a bit shall we?
We’ll get to the juicy bits now. Let’s see… In 2020 things started to destabilize globally. Tensions within the Middle-East had reached their apex and started to boil over into more of Asia, Africa and parts of Europe. During this time, the United States navy more or less gave up on the location and recalled most of their ships home. Defiance was among those recalled, she spend roughly a year in dry dock getting re-fitted with more advanced hardware. ( It was also during this time that the previous captain stepped down and I was promoted to the post )
Destabilization on a global level continued as the Defiance was in dry dock. Rogue nukes, bombing of civilian sectors, whole towns lit up like a bonfire… That sort of thing was even more common than before in the Middle East. And well… What happened next I still don’t know what caused it. Some sort of Cataclysm, an act of God perhaps? Whatever it was, it came without warning. The Oceans quickly started to rise. I don’t mean the tides came in, I mean the oceans just… the coastal cities were quickly flooded and washed away. Millions died and soon even more would fall. With no delegated course of action, Defiance was quickly launched from drydock with a skeleton crew on board.
Without official orders, we set about working as a rescue ship. Picking up those we could from the cataclysmic flooding… We couldn’t save everyone though… Many were left behind but we did what we could. The boat was full of people at this point, civilians… Most of them had no clue what was going on. Few had any more possessions than the clothes on their backs. Everyone watched as the land was slowly swallowed up, vanishing from view beneath the waves.
Shock, depression and sickness was rampant in those early days. A metal tub in the ocean isn’t the most hospitable place to spend the apocalypse after all. We waited near what used to be New-York, waiting for orders from… someone, anyone. But they never came and so we departed. Where to? We didn’t really know at that time. We just had to find somewhere, and keep these people safe.
We sailed through the sea, looking for anything that might assist us. We didn’t see much in those early days, a lot of ruined cities beneath the waves… even more bodies. Bloated and floating on the surface. It took over a year before we received a clear, proper signal, from Greenland of all places. This raised moral greatly and we quickly altered our course and headed there with all haste.
Upon arrival, we were almost out of supplies and fuel. We limped into port on fumes… It was worth it though. Greenland was rather “together” at this point. Or as much as you can be after the apocalypse. It seems they’d survived rather intact, I guess their higher elevation protected them from the worst of the flooding? Who knows, and honestly I didn’t care at the time nor do I now. The important part was they were alive and had survived. Many people left the ship that day, not able to stand it anymore. We received quite a few volunteers though, eager hands to assists on the ship.
A deal was made with what remained of the Greenlandic Government. We’d sail the seas, looking for survivors and directing them… home. In return we’d be granted fuel, supplies and manpower for the ship. It was a fantastic deal, and honestly our only option at that point. We spent our time at port, then set out to fulfill our end of the deal. We sailed around locating other survivor colonies as we did so, always spreading the news of Greenland to those that would listen.
Not everyone we met was as… hospitable as those in Greenland. Seems many people lost their civility and humanity, I can’t blame them though… Raiders and thugs were a problem, a major problem. They’d roam around in smaller boats and attack travelers, they’d even attack us at times. We were strong enough to repulse them more often than not though.
I’m getting off track though, let’s speak of the colonies we visited. The Major ones are as follows…
United Greenland. Greenland stands alone as a beacon of hope within the new world. It’s a center for trade and commerce between those that remain. It’s got a proper military force and even a banking union… Surprisingly it remains standing. We served under it, in various capacities.
PerChile. An alliance between the remains of Peru and Chile, nestled in the Andes mountains. Decent people and often receptive of visitors and traders. Real quality people, good surprise in this sort of age.
China… China always has a plan it seems. They've survived mostly in the area around the Himalayan mountains. Their society is rather totalitarian at this point. I can understand the reason behind it. They’re slightly xenophobic though and only trade with outsiders when they must.
United Union. Remains of Canadian and United States people. They’re hunkered out in the rocky mountains. It’s sad to see how far we’ve fallen… They’re in a sort of caste society now. It’s a mockery of what we once were. We still trade with them, and deliver messages though. You can’t be choosy at this point.
Ethiopian Republic. Surprisingly, Ethiopia was in rather good shape. Guess their highland location paid off in the end. Not much is known about the current situation within there though. The whole colony is closed to outsiders aside from the docks. They’re extremely intolerant and suspicious of people. To even be able to dock requires a permit.
South African Warlords. Ethiopia’s neighbors to the south. South Africa is mostly divided up among various warlords who all control a small sliver of the area… And yet they still continue on like before the apocalypse. Diamonds are still mined up using slave labor. It’s a surprisingly large trade still, I guess people will always want luxury.
These are the major players we’ve met in our travels. Of course a few small villages and societies exist upon slivers of land and even floating barges. We perform trade with everyone, and will take on anyone with a decent skill set. It doesn't pay to judge, not anymore…Middle East Conglomerate. Portions of the middle east survived, and they still continue to pump out oil from their deep wells. This loose collection of states charges top dollar for some of the last oil left, but who knows how long it’ll last.
Our role has slowly evolved over the years, and with it the ship as a whole. We’re everything from a courier and a transport ship, to a defence ship or a rescue floater. Our flag is synonymous with society and freedom, people know it when they see it. The ship too hasn’t stayed the same either, we’re now a floating city. Buildings, Farms and Windmills adorn the flight deck rather than planes. Small towns crop up in the lower decks and the hangar… People build a home wherever possible. If I had to estimate… I think we’ve got at least ten-thousand people on board at any time. Sometimes even more….
Those are the major hitting points though, I think I’ve covered it nicely and left a good record for future generations. I know I’ll be gone soon… I hope my son can continue to lead our people into the future and keep them safe. Captain Bartholomew Harrison
Admission of an application is mandatory to getting on the server. You will not be let on without having an application accepted by members of the staff.
OOC:
In game name:
Timezone:
Age:
What role-playing experience do you have?:
Why did you choose us?:
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat):
IC:
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Ethnicity:
Place of Birth:
Defining characteristics and physical appearance:
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind:
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
Builder's app! For the Builder's app please visit this thread. http://www.minecraftforum.net/forums/servers/looking-for/2280169-the-last-ark-looking-for-builders
We’ll have a bunch of screenshots for your viewing pleasure here soon. We also hope to have a map tracking the boat’s progress throughout the new world. Stay tuned for more!
We’ll have a whole slew of banners, show your allegiance to a specific faction or colony.
Hey! We did a thing and now have some screenshots, Enjoy!
We did /another/ thing! But we're too lazy to post all the images here, visit the Imgur link.
http://imgur.com/a/13x6J#33
We now have an enjin site: http://thelastark.enjin.com
ACCEPTED: Welcome, we will be sure to let you know when the server opens.
Accepted! On the basis that you understand evil acts for no proper reason will not be tolerated. We don't need multiple 'Hannibal Lecters' running around the ship for no good reason. As for the owned property, the house is alright... We'll have to debate over the drug den though. You'll hear more through pms.
In game name: Nemoy2001
Timezone: EST
Age: Nope
What role-playing experience do you have?: (shudder) LotC, your last server.
Why did you choose us?: Because I've RPed with you guys before, and you're smart enough to make it work. I have faith in you guys.
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): You know my Skype.
IC:
Name: Jan Kjellfrid
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Scandinavian, 1/4 Scottish
Place of Birth: Glittertind
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Pale, red-brown hair, brown eyes. Wiry, but not emaciated. Generally of good humor, and a humanitarian at heart.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Strengths:
Fluent in two languages (The amalgamated language of the Scandinavian survivors, and English)
Medical Knowledge
Intermediate Psychological Knowledge
Intelligent
Quick
Relatively Likable
Weaknesses:
Too sympathetic "Maybe these raiders just want their freedom! Let's talk to them!"
Not Hugely Strong "Can I have the lighter crate instead?"
Not a big fan of 'Merica "You assholes are the reason we're in this mess!"
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: He owns a room on the ship, and a small office where he offers therapy.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
Jan's grandfather was a Scottish professor who moved to Sweden to live with his wife. They were one of the many refugees that ran to Glittertind and the Scandes to escape the rising tide.
In a remarkable show of foresight and preparedness, the Scandinavian governments ushered the citizens into pre-built bunkers and safehouses int he Scandes Mountains. One bunker eventually became the settlement of Glittertind, and was a center-point of the Scandinavian remnants.
Jan trained to become a doctor, and eventually learned the trade. He also read lots of philosophy and psychology books, working as a psychologist for Glittertind's inhabitants.
When the Defiant came into port at Glittertind, Jan (along with many other Scandinavians) joined the crew in an effort to see the world and help out the dying remnants of humanity. He's served on board the Defiant for maybe a year at this point.
RP Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
Jan: But why do we have to attack them?
Alan: Jan, they're savages. They've taken our crewmen hostage.
Jan: Damn it Alan, have you considered why? They're scared of us, and they're getting insurance so we don't attack them!
Alan: Jan...... you can't save everyone.
Jan: I can damn well try.
Alan: Just...... don't do anything stupid, okay?
Jan: *noncommittal grumble*
- 1 hour later -
Jan: Give me a scotch, Penn.
Penn: Coming right up.
Jan scoots into a stool by the bar, accidentally knocking over a drink in the process.
Drunkard: (drunkenly slurred) Whysa**** you do zthat fur?!
Jan: Sorry, it was an accident.
Drunkard: Axe-dent my ash, you fakkin knocked my shdrink over! I'll fukkan kill you, bishtch!
Drunkard lunges forward, and Jan ducks the blow.
Jan: Have you ever considered that your rampant alcoholism has to do with the guilt you face when you turn and face your past head on?"
Drunkard: Shzut the fukk up, f-fag!
Drunkard lunges forward and hits Jan square in the face. Jan shouts in pain and reels backward. A guard tackles the Drunkard and arrests him.
Jan: Sorry it had to be this way. If you ever want to talk things out, ask for Jan.
(He's a bit White-Knighty, but I think he has at least a few downsides to him.)
In game name: CreepyCreeper148 (Hey Syvs, don't forget your old ship mates.Haha, what edit?)
Timezone: CST (Canada).
Age: Thirteen.
What role-playing experience do you have?: Fallout: Wild Wasteland, Fallout: Echoes of Mankind, Fallout: Desolate Roads, FallCraft (The first and second versions), The Wayward Ones, Lord of the Craft, and Echoes of the Ancients.
Why did you choose us?: Yes.
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): Already in the group.
IC:
Name: Adam Malik
Age: 31
Gender: Male.
Ethnicity: Caucasian.
Place of Birth: Greenland.
Defining characteristics and physical appearance:
Adam is a tall and frail man, standing at a fine 6'3", but has little physical strength. He is very pale, as he usually resides in the lower parts of the deck, hardly visiting the surface for leisure or recreation. He considers himself intelligent and confident, though makes sure to not cross the line into being cocky. When it comes to a fight, Adam will often use anything he can to his advantage to prevail. He is protective of his sister alone, and cares little for anyone else.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Adam considers himself an intelligent and charismatic person. Of course, this is only his own opinion. While he has a fair amount of knowledge on subjects like mathematics and history, he is on the weaker side when it comes to raw physical strength. He's also rather lazy, and refuses to put his maximum effort into anything, unless he might consider it to be absolutely essential. He has next to no knowledge on operating firearms, or using any any melee weapon more advanced than a knife. He is often unproductive and attempts to get others to do work for him, but this may change over time.
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind:
Adam owns a small room on the lower decks of the ship, near his sister. He has a replica shotgun (Obviously unable to be fixed or altered to work), as well as a flimsy concealable switchblade.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
Adam grew up in a manor in Greenland, living with his two parents and his sister, Jennifer. He craved for lots of things as a child, some examples including the fortune of his two powerful parents who were players in the banking union. Above all else, he desired power and knowledge, as any normal person might. Anyways, Adam learned a fair amount from his school. Mostly about history and other parts of the world, and some basics in mathematics. Unlike his sister though, Adam didn't really know what he wanted to study, and ultimately decided on learning as much as he could on the world's history. He primarily worked on studying about the world's culture and history. But over the course of time, Adam has forgotten about much of this, focusing on other things.
Eventually, Adam's studies on the world led to him starting to feel nomadic. Unfortunately, he had no information on any sort of job offering a chance to explore the world, and as such, eventually dwindled in the country for many years, until the funds his parents had supplied him with had ultimately been spent. At this point in time, he was getting desperate to explore the world. So when he learned that his sister was offered a place on the ship, he was ecstatic. Of course, without an invitation of his own, Adam would simply be devastated if the ship departed again without him. Even though it'd likely eventually come back, he'd likely have run out of money by then, and be reduced to sleeping in the streets, or dead. He desperately asked around, approaching all his colleagues and friends, which he had little of. Eventually, word of Adam and his plot to join the ship spread around, and he was approached one day by a man, who worked on board the ship. He was offered a position, and that was that. Adam grabbed what little he had, and set off.
Unlike his sister, Adam found the ship much more comforting. His small room in the lower decks was quite cozy, and he really did enjoy the view of the waters. So far, Adam has remained quiet, rarely leaving his quarters, and even having minimal contact with his sister. Adam hopefully looks forward to soon start finding work and friends in the ship. Currently, he's quite content, finally happy to at least be beginning to travel what was left of the world. Who knows what's in store ahead? Adventure, knowledge, and probably a large amount of failure and death. Good times in store!
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
Adam would be sitting on a stool in a dingy, cramped bar in the lowest decks. Because he's poor, a small glass of cheap beer would be on the counter in front of him. Sitting on the stool to his left would be an inebriated, dirty looking man, laughing to himself. He appears to be quite tipsy.
The Filthy Vagrant stands, and almost immediately stumbles into Adam, immediately causing the two to stumble over in a pathetic little pile, the stool following in pursuit, and instantly falling and hitting poor Adam in the face. Additionally, Adam's cheap beer would have been spilled, making a mess on the floor.
Adam angrily attempts to shove the man off, and stands himself up. He begins to yell at the man about how he's quite bothered that the man spilled his drink and how he's now got to walk around with a bruise on his face. The man in his intoxicated state, only processes incoherent shouting.
The Filthy Vagrant, confused by the man shouting at him, instinctively goes to hit the man in the face. Caught off guard, Adam is caught by the man's right hand swing, and collapses to the ground, holding his bruised face delicately.
The Bartender, only just noticing the commotion, as he's not a particularly perceptive man, begins to yell at the two, and unravels a metal baseball bat from beneath the the counter.
Adam sheepishly mutters to himself incoherently about how he'll never return to such a dingy place, and how it was a huge waste of money and time, despite being a cheap ******* and only spending very little for a cheap beer that he wasn't even drinking, really. Defeated, Adam trudges off to return to his quarters.
Denied! As you said, he's a bit of a white-knight it seems. Also read the rules again, you missed something. Aside from that, the backstory is also a little lackluster. Increase the size and details then apply again.
Accepted! Good enough. Try not to throw /too/ may people off the side of the boat, Kay?
In game name: Quatral
Timezone: Pacific Standard Time
Age: 16
What role-playing experience do you have?: Echoes of Mankind, Fallout: Wild Wastelands, Romecraft: Legacy, Romecraft: Incursio Britannia, Romecraft: Imperivm Romanvm, Echoes of the Ancients, Telcore Tradewinds.
Why did you choose us?: 'Cause y'all have nice abs
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): You got me
IC:
Name: Patrick Vaght
Age: 43
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Aryan
Place of Birth: New Rotterdam
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: A thin but well defined man, Patrick stands at six foot exactly. With a bald spot taking ground from his tactically retreating hairline, he sports a meager head of greying blonde hair. Such a set of follicles is swept to the right in a neatly done comb over. Below a slightly wrinkled and sun tarnished forehead lays a pair of pushy and well-kept eyebrows. Further down, one would visually bump into his two blue eyes, both of which sit slightly back in the gaunt facial feature of Mister Vaght. To the right and left and slightly back lay his two sharp and thin ears, proportioned in the manner of a first class Aryan male. But, of course, away from the profile and back to the portrait. His mouth sits as a thin line between a well-proportioned Germanic nose, and a definably boney chin. Patrick Vaght's high cheek bones stretch the worn white skin over his aforementioned gaunt features. Down his decently sized neck, his sternum resides atop a stern and defined rib structure, sporting little amount of discernible muscle tone. The various intricacies of his torso are fairly unimportant, as is the rest of Mister Vaght's Nordic bone structure.
Patrick has amongst his possessions a pair of reading glasses which he regularly wears when he is indulging in the occasional flip through of Mein Kampf. Upon his previously mentioned nondescript abdomen, he wears a white button up shirt which has been worn and faded to a light creamy brown. On top of such a shirt piece, is Mister Vaght's prize brown tweed jacket which he removed from the corpse of an endearing political opponent. Upon his legs, he wears brown corduroy pants with a black leather belt, the buckle of which was long ago replaced by a clothe piece. The feet upon which his legs sit, bear two fairly well put together dress socks of a black color. Across the toes of these socks is a thin yellow thread stripe, which stand starkly against the deep shade of the rest of his socks. The shoes he wears are brown leather, soled with a thick leather strip and well cobbled at its seams. Mister Vaght's undergarments consist of a thin white cotton shirt which he wears under the button up shirt. Beneath his corduroy pants, rest a pair of finely tailored satin underwear. Sitting upon his supple hips, these textile wonders are patterned in a minimalistic black and red. The checkerboard style speaks to the ideological goals of his person.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Patrick is a proud man, of a very righteous path of action. His stubborn and willful nature is his strength and limitation. Willing to die for the sake of his beliefs, he will not yield in face of mortal danger. Yet this double edged sword blocks him from being able to make distasteful yet useful allies. Coming from his childhood, he holds a fear to the superstitious belief in the lower holds of any waterborne vessel. Whilst his more mental restraints are meager, his mere lack of physical strength is what sets him back amongst others. Being a rather intellectual man, this is counterbalanced by a sharp mind with a likewise keen intellect.
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: None
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
Born to a middle aged couple in the year 2037, Patrick was one amongst various children born aboard New Rotterdam. The city they dwelt upon was a mesh of small craft and barges. This floating city was where Patrick Vaght was born, his aforementioned parents were, Helena and Edmond Vaght. Both of them were survivors of the initial flooding in the Dutch lowlands. Being caught off guard, the Netherlander government was unable to properly prepare their people for the overflow of the dikes. Although names after Rotterdam, the barge city itself was made up of survivors from all across north coastal Europe. When the Vaght's were hit by the flooding in their home in metropolitan Amsterdam, the death toll was massive. Only the lucky few like them were able to steal aboard the small amount of civilian craft left loosely moored in the harbor. Originally being a meager fleet of fishing craft overladen with survivors, debris and other craft were cobbled together to support for survivors. The christening of this floating city occurred on June 23rd, 2024. And so, the scene is set for Patrick's birth aboard this material conglomerate of scrap and vessels.
Whilst growing up, the young Patrick would be happy to find various other youths who were born to the large amounts of families springing up across New Rotterdam. The years following the cities preliminary organization were a decent time. A smattering of miniscule islands where Scandinavia once was served as a port of call for the wayward barge city. So, the Vaght's lived a pleasant life, at least as pleasant as one can be on an almost entirely flooded planet. Raising their child, while trying to teach him to cope with the situation of his birth, the youthful period of Patrick's life could only be described as blissful. Yet this time would not remain so. In the year 2045, food supplies began to dwindle, and the former Swedish villages could no longer support themselves as well as New Rotterdam. Although mainly unaffected, eight year old Patrick was excited to hear that they would be heading further out to sea in search of natural food sources on the open ocean. As they hit rougher seas, Patrick's enthusiasm dwindled. His young playmates would take the same stance as their situation worsened. It was one occasion, on the 12th of December, 2046, that Patrick's worn out optimism would be put down entirely. Whilst gallivanting on the lower levels of one of the large fishing vessels that served as a generator sector, as well as housing for the engines, Patrick and his friends found trouble. The chugging thud of engine almost drowned out a scream from one of the children. The youths were horrified to find one of their friends mangled in an electric vermin trap. The boy's foot was bloodied and the leg was purple from the instantaneous high voltage shock. Looking up at them in sheer terror, he died there and then on the floor, mangled in that trap. The youth's childhood bliss was broken, and Patrick would adopt a lifelong cynicism regarding living at sea.
While New Rotterdam half drifted, half navigated its way westward, Patrick’s adolescence progressed in the same dreary manner. By the time Patrick was reaching his later teen years, the city had reached the frozen coast of United Greenland. A welcome reprieve to the increasingly depressing voyage of New Rotterdam, Patrick and a motley gang of youths went ashore with the appointed emissary to retrieve supplies. Intimidated by the comparable orderliness of the dockside, their party would make contact with the local government of the port. Scratching together anything they could trade, Patrick and the crew young men replenished New Rotterdam’s dwindling stock of food and medicine. While in port, Patrick’s heightened morale was somewhat broken when a band of Danish lads decided that Greenland was the last remnant of their home, and they wished to be there. The days in which New Rotterdam remained off the coast of the Greenlandic port were spent in hopeful but pessimistic celebration by the residents of New Rotterdam, this including Patrick. Such a departure by his slowly decreasing pool of compatriots did little to assist the deep set depression aboard New Rotterdam. Eventually, after a few days, New Rotterdam left as it had arrived, broken and adrift in an apocalyptic sea.
Patrick resigned to his cramped and claustrophobic quarters for a majority of the time after leaving Greenland. A perilous drifting venture southward yielded little discovery as New Rotterdam fell low to bandit attacks. It was in the year 2058, a month or so after Patrick had turned twenty one years of age. The worst of the attacks persisted, small craft would harass New Rotterdam until leaving into the horizon. Such events left Patrick to wonder where the craft had gone, what was their port of call? These worries brought Patrick before the New Rotterdam Council, to plead his case. Demanding that New Rotterdam equip one of the old fishing vessels with supplies to search for the bandit’s home, Patrick declared that the fate of City rested in the hands of immediate action. Deciding that putting so much effort into such a tentative decision, the Council denied Patrick’s request. This act sent Patrick back into a state of resignation and hopelessness. On the 50th day of the bandit attacks, the stock and population of New Rotterdam was at an all-time low.
On this same day, instead of firing off weapons and circling around New Rotterdam, the craft went straight for the city’s roughly crafted docks. The Council saw fit to enact a law that formed an emergency militia. Among these nervous men was Patrick, eager to at least finally confront their persistent aggressor. Armed with old side arms and nightsticks gathered from deep within storage, they waited in the dock office for the first of the ships to come alongside. This instant never came, instead, out in the mist of the Atlantic rose a behemoth. A rusted plate covered mammoth of a vessel, a Maersk Triple E ship outfitted with armaments and crawling with pirates and other dregs of apocalyptic society. This relic of the past encroached on the city, stopping only hundreds of meters from New Rotterdam. Patrick was somewhat reassured that the pirates had a human origin, and wasn’t the source of something more, sinister. Yet the worry remained amongst the men at the dock. As a vessel stormed forwards from the cluster of small craft towards New Rotterdam, they waited eagerly. Hooking to the side of New Rotterdam’s dockside with all manner of cobbled together grappling hooks and harpoons, the men descended. The bandits ignored the stunned men in the dock office, leaving to scout out the barge city. Coming to their senses, the small band if militiamen sprung out from their hiding, firing off their petty weapons at the rear of the pirate’s cluster. Taken off guard, they engaged in heavy firefighting. The casualties on both sides slowly grew as the bandits were able to reassert their dominance in firepower and numbers. A retreat was sounded amongst the militiamen. By now, like crows, the rest of the pirate small craft descended on New Rotterdam. Coming on all sides of the city, a general alarm was sounded in the city.
Being among the few to make it to the lower levels, Patrick assembled their small numbers in the holds of the city. The ever-present fear and memory of his friend’s horrifying end long ago still engaged Patrick’s memory. While the pirates rampaged across the decks of New Rotterdam, the cluster of men and women huddled around Patrick. Trying his best not to act as scared as everyone else, his pitiful attempts to be authoritative failed. It would be this night they slept in that bare and swamped hold. In the morning, they came out to find the blackened soot of a faulty grenade stained across the door. Emerging to the deck would reveal that city was largely intact. Patrick would search for others, finding few had been killed at all. More learning of the events of last night would reveal that the Council had traded off most of their supplies and children for the survival of the city. This decision would anger Patrick, once more severely disappointed by the actions of New Rotterdam’s government. Their journey across the South Atlantic would be largely devoid of pirates, despite Patrick’s suspicions of black spots on the fringe of their foggy line of sight. Either way, New Rotterdam progressed unmolested westwards, limping on pitifully supplied engines.
It was on the 4th of August, 2064, that New Rotterdam would encounter civilization once more. Whilst watching the sea at the front of the City’s movement, land was sighted. At first the memories of a beleaguered New Rotterdam approaching Greenland sprung to his mind, the memory of that hulking vessel charging forth from the mist like a hound of hell. Such elicited thoughts made Patrick worry, then he saw what seemed to be a settlement on the yellowed brown coast ahead. At the same time he saw this, over the jury rigged intercom a loud mechanical voice was heard, announcing the siting of land what seemed to be a populated settlement. This affirmation replaced Patrick’s fear with sheer excitement. As New Rotterdam came closer, a small zodiac craft was seen approaching the city barge. A small flag fluttered in the wind at the tail end of the fast moving boat. As it came closer, a small delegation of the Council waited at the dock, awaiting the craft. Docking, it was realized that they were off the coast of Africa. Patrick watched as the men discussed their situation. White Afrikaners that has lived at the southern tip of wild African territory, fighting warlords and bandits for years after the rising of the oceans. In awe of these well-kept gentlemen, Patrick watched as they went to be fully welcomed by the New Rotterdam Council.
New Rotterdam was highly encouraged to come to stay near port. The Afrikaner settlement was made up of mostly white militants and guerrillas living out of barracks and shacks. Patrick more often preferred to stay amongst the Afrikaners on land. Despite reaching a new port, most of the inhabitants of New Rotterdam were wary of the Afrikaners. As New Rotterdam took on supplies, Patrick remained in the camp of the militants, engaging with people. Something like this hadn’t been attempted since the depressing departure from Greenland. Also the first time since the pirate raids that he had had to use fire arms, he reacquainted himself with the practice. New Rotterdam had arrived in what the Afrikaners called “Drakensberg” on the 4th of August, 2064. Since then, the city prospered in its own way, trading somewhat with the militarized inhabitants of Drakensberg. Patrick lived and ate on land with the militants, becoming familiarized with the culture that the Afrikaners retained since the apocalyptic flooding. In such, the racial views of the Afrikaners fascinated him, being able to classify and group other peoples was an entirely new concept to his small yet expanding view of the world. After three months of staying off the coast of Drakensberg, New Rotterdam began considering leaving and searching even further westward for supplies. A portion of the New Rotterdam supported leaving for even better prospects abroad. Yet another contingent opposed leaving what they considered to be a veritable paradise, and source of protection. Patrick was amongst the latter party, and felt he had found a new home in Drakensberg. It was on the 18th of May that he was approached by one of Drakenberg’s commanders. A physically inclined man with a heavy Afrikaans accent, his name was Karl van de Merwe. Karl had known that the arrival of New Rotterdam had created possibilities for the militants in Drakensberg, and saw the decent disposition of Patrick as a way of achieving his goals. An offer to take New Rotterdam in a coup of the Drakensberg fighters perturbed Patrick at first. Yet as they spoke, he realized that it was the best way to achieve his own personal wishes. As he exited the commander’s barracks, he had decided to assist in the militant expulsion of democracy in New Rotterdam, and replace it with an Afrikaner government.
The next day, Patrick left with a loose platoon of the fighters on three of the small boats. Pulling up to the docks, the dreary residents of New Rotterdam were astonished to find that the men and women bore arms. Swiftly moving through the silent and surprised populace, they were able to make their way to the Council building. As Patrick entered the structure with his fellows, he took in the rusted and clammy nature of its old welded walls. This was decidedly a sign of need for change in the style of leadership present at New Rotterdam. Swiftly taking prisoner of and shooting the dissident politicians within the structure, by noon of that day they had claimed full takeover of New Rotterdam. Patrick was able to view another swarm of small craft sweeping towards the barge city laden with men and supplies. Commander van de Merwe had planned to relocate his beleaguered men to New Rotterdam, as their mission to combat the warlords in what remained of South Africa fell out of light. The move onto New Rotterdam lasted a few hours as Patrick assisted in the taking on of military supplies. The food and medicine taken aboard was welcome by many residents, but few liked the presence of the Afrikaners, and the violent death of their beloved council members. It was on the 23rd of May, that year, Patrick was happily on watch; the City leaving on newly acquired fuel from the militant’s depot’s pushing them onwards and westwards.
The city would go on with little dissent against the militant rule of Commander van de Merwe. It was in the months that followed their departure that Patrick would become more acquainted with the racial dissemination of Afrikaner philosophy. The racial ties of the original Dutch and Northern Germanic population of New Rotterdam created a connection of sorts between them and the Afrikaner combatants. Taking this to his advantage, van de Merwe began the process of extolling the virtues of the white Afrikaner people. The wary people of New Rotterdam started to embrace their status as Afrikaners, the slight language and racial barriers were all but broken. Patrick reveled in the authority brought from being associated with van de Merwe’s Afrikaners. Full racial designation and categorization began on the 30th of May, 2066. Van de Merwe’s was eager to employ this tactic on a domestic population, and was glad to have Patrick Vaght lead the vanguard. Having the only literate knowledge of Afrikaner Apartheid and the classifications used by their South African counterparts, Patrick welcomed the role with likewise enthusiasm. The process that followed was the tedious but enjoyable experience of registering each resident in New Rotterdam. Glad to contribute to what he considered a newly founded Afrikaner utopia aboard New Rotterdam, Patrick went to the work with a sense of what can only be described as patriotic zeal. Although an alien concept, thoughts of Dutch and Boer national pride flooded the young mind of Patrick Vaght. Although things went at a decent pace, he struck a point at which things troubled him. Despite knowing that various people of black African descent lived on New Rotterdam, he’d truly never had the time to engage one face to face. It was one of these very people he ran in to while running the Afrikaner census out of the old Council building. Albeit not a particular problem, he felt disgruntled when he registered the seemingly pleasant man as “Colored”. The registration went on for the rest of the week, the occasional colored registration being made. By the end of the registration period, Patrick felt a sense of pride in single handedly carrying out a racial census of New Rotterdam.
When van de Merwe received word of the completed census, he called for a council of the Afrikaner militant lieutenants. Priding himself in being counted among this elite few, Patrick attended the event. It was here that van de Merwe dictated their next steps in furthering Afrikaner progress in New Rotterdam. By registering the people of New Rotterdam, he felt they could create a "state of apartness" amongst the population. It was at this council that Patrick and his fellows agreed to border New Rotterdam off into districts, colloquially referred to as “homelands”. Thinking little of the colored men and women he’d marked down on the registry, he had whole heartedly supported the racial separation of their barge city. Leaving the council contentedly, Patrick Vaght felt secure in his position and views on the world. An unparalleled state of confidence ruled, the Afrikaner government aboard New Rotterdam was working very well for him. In this same span of time, roughly during the month of August, in the year 2067, the Afrikaners had created an effectively totalitarian civil government on New Rotterdam. Using their military supplies and the capable leadership of van de Merwe to raid warring settlements on the eastern coast of what remained of Africa. Through this tactic, they remained well supplied and fed, morale was high among the military and civilian population. New Rotterdam would remain in this decent shape until the year 2070, in the month of July.
At this time, New Rotterdam had sailed far from the coasts of Africa, visiting and trading with Oil Conglomerates in the middle east, exchanging small arms fire with Chinese patrol craft. It was almost as if the old view of poverty had shifted. What was once destitute was now considered well off, what was once considered moderate living was now seen as a plutocratic fantasy. The standard of living overall shifted downwards, but the elapsed time seemed to erase clear memories of their lives before. Only the elderly and near to dying remembered the world before flooding. It seemed that these things did not bother Patrick, as he continued with the monotony of his duties as head of van de Merwe’s “New Rotterdam Institute of Racial Progress”. A lengthy title for what was the main body that controlled the homelands and their inhabitants. Patrick Vaght ruled from his position with an indifferent view on the minorities under his grasp. Although the thought of that first colored man to be registered by him still haunted his day dreams, he gave no serious mind to the fate of those he condemned to racially based poverty. The desperate conditions of the Colored homelands in the lower spaces and decks of New Rotterdam were unseen and unheard of to most others. While he maintained the relatively small staff of his institute, they performed regular yearly censuses of the city’s population. Although not yielding drastic data, the constant and regular record keeping eased the minds of Patrick. In the late days of July, 2070, his grip on the situation began to break down. With Karl van de Merwe becoming more and sicklier in his age, and the conditions of constant sea living, his lieutenants were left to command New Rotterdam from their respective positions. It was Bram Verwoerd who turned the motley band of Afrikaner militants into a civil police force for New Rotterdam in 2069. Left to his devices, others such as Johannes Vorster, would create a generally organized economy for the ship city. Despite their isolated nature, those aboard New Rotterdam created a working economy out of their own private business. The nurturing of these businesses by Mister Vorster would allow the city to operate independently with a contented white population. The breakdown of control began on the 29th of July, when Mister Verwoerd led a squad of his men into a colored homeland block to harass and attack supposed “dissenters”. This outbreak of attacks led to retaliation against white civil protectors patrolling the homelands.
Ignoring the situation of the homelands, Patrick continued consolidating his basis of power as head of the Institute. Although using his position as leverage, Patrick stigmatized the colored dissidents, lending Afrikaner sympathies to the affronted civil defenders of Bram’s forces. The censuses after that July ceased to account for colored homelands, as the violence within them was becoming an uncontainable issue. The population growth within the respective homelands made it so civil protection could no longer subjugate them single handedly. This threat would erupt in 2070, on the 4th of August. The celebrated 6th anniversary of the meeting between the Drakensberg Afrikaners, and New Rotterdam served as the catalyst for all out conflict between Afrikaners and the colored homeland residents. Patrick ignored warning signs of rebellion amongst the colored population, while Bram pleaded to the other lieutenants of an ailing van de Merwe for aide in combating the issue. (Don't forget your old shipmates) On that very day, the 6th, colored residents who referred to themselves as “homelanders”, took to the decks. What started as an Afrikaner festival of union, descended into a racially divided riot. With Bram unable to control the situation, Patrick rallied his supporters and other Afrikaners by storming the armory for supplies. Equip with military weapons, they fought back the colored rioters, and effectively ended the short lived rebellion. With Patrick at the helm of what was essentially an armed mob, he brought forward Bram to the head of the crowd. Using the fervor of the moment, Patrick had Bram shot for treason in neglect to his duties as commander of civil protection. Not wishing to lose his precious limelight, it was at this same night, Patrick made a speech. This speech pledged that he would take the helm of New Rotterdam in place of the ill van de Merwe. Already a known protégé to the older Afrikaner, this was accepted with little dissent. It was at this same speech, that Patrick Vaght declared himself new commander of civil protection, naming their new officers and lieutenants. Having officially taken over New Rotterdam with a network of his subordinates and supporters, Patrick decided they would have to take a new course.
The early years of 2070 brought New Rotterdam back down along the coast of east Africa. This slow journey proved lucrative as they were able to once more raid the bickering tribes of warlord led Africans. The small victories only gained more support for Patrick Vaght in his position as “Chief Protector of Rotterdam and its people, Commander of the Afrikaner Guard”. This title became the basis for a personality cult, the successes found so far only proof that New Rotterdam had only good things in store with Patrick Vaght at its head. His Dutch background and loyalties to the Afrikaners created a cultural bond that generated widespread support from the populace. The eventual death of van de Merwe in 2071, on November 15th only cemented his place at the head of New Rotterdam. Using the death of van de Merwe as a martyr for the Afrikaner movement, they came full circle with a memorial stop at the old camp of Drakensberg. What they found was a surprisingly large encampment of African bandits. Deciding that he must further ground himself as the supreme leader of Rotterdam, it was Patrick himself who led the combatants out on small craft to assault the base. Being no stealthy vessel, the raiders were already alerted to the presence of New Rotterdam. Their attack at night made no difference, fixed machine guns shattering the line of zodiac craft. Those that made it ashore were cut down by the oddly disciplined bandits. It was Patrick who directed his own craft amongst a few others to turn back. Alerting the citizenship of their failure, Patrick returned to the capitol building to strategize. Deciding that the use of small craft would only be worthless against their guns, he wished to bring New Rotterdam closer to the shore. This decision was met with uneasiness amongst his surviving commanders, but they carried it out. Now bringing the city within hundreds of meters of the port, they came dangerously close to grounding. Now employing their own heavier weapons, they exchanged machine gun fire with the bandits for the remainder of the morning and well into the evening.
It was at 8 pm that evening they launched another attack under the cover of machine gun fire. Once more leading the charge, Patrick Vaght wished to redeem his earlier unpopular losses to the bandits. With this new found fire support, more men made it ashore to combat the bandits. In the fighting, Patrick fell low to gunshot wounds to the lower abdomen. Thus forcing him to be brought back to the boat, his men persisted the fight. The thud of the machine guns on New Rotterdam came to a halt at midnight, finally drying up their ammunition stores. The fighters on shore fought their way into the base, coming into lighter and lighter resistance as they progressed. The final recapture of Drakensberg was a heavy loss to the forces of Rotterdam, but Patrick refused to allow this to be portrayed so. From his hospital bed, Patrick Vaght wrote an address to be given by Johannes Vorster. This address outlined the symbolic reclamation of Drakensberg, and the declaration of a Voortrekken policy they must take with all hostile attempts to usurp what as rightfully theirs. This strong willed approach was well accepted amongst the indoctrinated citizen of New Rotterdam. It was several weeks after the fighting, during which a formal service was given for van de Merwe at Drakensberg, that Patrick made a full recovery from his wounds. Declaring they would set out, the supplies taken from the raiders there would be their last until another stop. Going northwards led New Rotterdam back into the foggy Atlantic Ocean. Memories of that bandit vessel penetrated the mind of Patrick Vaght, memories of the atrocities committed by his council were stark and clear. Yet no ship came, the bandit craft that haunted the edges of their line of sight never came close to the barge city of New Rotterdam. These years, during the middle 70’s, Patrick felt the same desperation of New Rotterdam of his youth set back in. Refusing to allow this to happen, he decided to strike back against the setting in depression.
In the months of March, on the 24, in the year 2074, Patrick Vaght led several social programs to turn around the situation. By reviving the censuses of the Institute, a patriotic sense of being an Afrikaner swept over New Rotterdam once more. The population of colored peoples in the homelands healthily rose back to their old levels. The decision to avoid attacks on the homelands was made when Patrick Vaght decreed a self-ruling act that essentially left the homelands to their own devices aboard the ship. Such a decision ensured his popularity not only among the white Afrikaners, but the colored population of the homelands. Yet the destitute conditions remained, and dissent in the homelands was not unheard of. Although these things did not bother Patrick as he ensured the supporting New Rotterdam citizens continued to favor him. By enacting more laws that would loosen the somewhat strict economic guidelines set by Vorster, the freedom of trade expanded. Disgruntled by this overstepping of authority, Johannes made little mind to the actuality of his decline of power.
It was in the year 2078, that Patrick Vaght led the city back towards Greenland. The approach to the harbor was greeted with the sight of what seemed to be the largest vessel any of them had ever seen. A comparably gargantuan Aircraft carrier sat in harbor at the Greenlandic port. Entering to trade, the barge city floated tentatively at the fringes of port traffic while a small craft maneuvered in. On board was Vorster and Vaght, along with a compliment of specialists and guards. This contingent entered to trade, extracting deals for more fuel and supplies, although failing to find those who would sell them the mass amount of ammunition they required. The deal was eventually struck with the Greenlandic port authorities, and the men went back to inform New Rotterdam. The supplies were sent off, and new cargo was taken on that day. The labor of trade was celebrated in the government building with newly acquired drinks and food. The entire city rested easy that night, the Afrikaner ideal snugly set in their minds. At midnight, Vaght was rudely awoken at gunpoint by a man dressed in seemingly dark clothes. The man herded the confused and tired Vaght down the corridors of the government sector. Reaching the deck, he looked about to find Vorster surrounded by a thuggish gang of unfamiliar faces. As it so happened, while Vaght expanded his power base, Vorster was consolidating his own. Taking on mercenaries from port as well as inducting his own cronies to the financial sector of their government. The confused Vaght along with what was recognizably, his lieutenants, were sent to one of the small craft in their finest clothes. The motley assortment of six men shuffled aboard in a confused manner. As they were winched down, Vaght spat swears up at the men, which elicited a thrown metal bar from one of the men above. Thus the men below were silenced, and the small craft made its way to port. Collected by port authorities in their suspicious boat in the middle of the night, they were sent to the port offices. Detained there for a time, their situation was finally cleared up by morning. The Port authorities sympathized with the man, and sent a boat out to New Rotterdam. Yet when the boat returned, they report New Rotterdam had left in the night, long before any of this had been discovered. Incensed, Patrick Vaght sat to contemplate his future in the office.
Eventually told it was best to leave and get things in order, he and his compatriots rose and left. Discussing their future, some felt they should try their luck here in Greenland. It was Patrick Vaght who wishes to find some way back onto the waters and a craft of some kind. Like the other men, he had lived on New Rotterdam for a majority of his life, yet he yearned not to find something new, but to relive the old ways of his seafaring city. The middle aged man concluded he would find some vessel that would take him, parting ways with his Afrikaner comrades for what they thought would be the last time. Drifting through the port, Patrick got word of the U.S.S. Defiance taking on citizens to live there. Remembering the massive carrier ship in harbor, he was excited at the thought, despite his situation. Making his way to the dock office, he inquired and found a man who could direct him to the Defiance. Making his way with the clothes on his back, Patrick went to the ship. Taking a craft aboard, he was taken onto the intimidating vessel. Whilst navigating the deck of the ship, Patrick spied all manner of races and ethnicities. Patrick sighed to this realization, he had much work to do.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
Patrick howled in pain as he fell low to the gunshot wound. Having struck him in the lower stomach, he writhed in pain and agony. Crying out he declared,
“For the love of god, somewhat, I’ve…”
His words were drowned out by gunfire and his own moans of pain. The assault had not gone as planned in his eyes, the bandits were somehow better organized. Dispelling the thought that any Negro could outclass his unparalleled Afrikaner Guard, Patrick was once more consumed by pain. Running to his side, a militant slides to crouch next to him,
“Heer, you are shot, we’ll get you help, no worries at all!”
Nodding in annoyance while cringing uncontrollably in pain, Patrick lapses into unconsciousness. The man in joined by another militant with a rifle slung across his back. The two nod to each other, taking Patrick Vaght by his elbows down the rocky beach to the shore. The shattering hail of gunfire on both sides makes it impossible for either to communicate. Loading Mister Vaght onto the small craft, they begin to roll it into the sea. Joined by another man, they climb aboard, starting the engine and taking it out back to New Rotterdam. Coughing away, spitting blood, Patrick looks at the sky in pain,
“What… we’ve won it yet? Van de Merwe would be so disappointed…”
Nodding hurriedly, one of the men responds with a reassuring smile,
“Yes Heer, we’re mopping up the Negroes in the camp, there’s nothing left to stop us.”
Discouraged by the still loud gunfire on the beach, Patrick remains silent. Deciding that these men are just trying to have good bedside manner, he plays along and nods slowly, the other man pressing a cloth to his chest,
“Very good, we’ll hold a service tomorrow most likely…”
The men all nod with cheery smiles on their faces. Sliding back into unconsciousness, Patrick remains comatose while they are winched aboard. Rushed to the hospital aboard New Rotterdam, they stand by his bed until shooed out by doctors. Treated by nurses and surgeons, the bullets are removed. The scars and injuries leave Patrick forever bent slightly at the torso.
Accepted! Exemplary backstory. Try not to go too purgy if you can help it. See you very soon!
----
On another note, we forgot to mention something in the OP. At the start of the server the boat will be docked in Greenland.
In game name: TMR_Chicken
Timezone: AST UTC/GMT -4 hours
Age: 18
What role-playing experience do you have?: Plenty. Akavir, LoTC, EoM, and forum format
Why did you choose us?: Because you shut EoM down
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): michaelandikealcandy (for those who can't connect the dots... like most everyone who expects me to use the same name on both accounts)
IC:
Name: Javier Jimenez (pronounced Havier Himenez)
Nickname (because I can): Javy (pronounced Ha-Vee)
Age: 53
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Latinamerican
Place of Birth: Caguas, Puerto Rico
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Black, straight hair halfway down the neck, shaggy with white streaks running through it. Tan skin, rather muscular, 5'11'', and occasionally slips into Spanish when speaking.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Doesn't get sea sick unless the seas are in hurricane conditions, Hates rats, has a large amount of stamina, won't eat anything but rice and beans or bread (consult his bio)
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: A small tarp held up by two sticks on the top deck with a small butane stove which he uses for cooking his own personal food and anyone else's if they like slightly mushy rice and beans.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs): Javier was born in Caguas in the mountains, only a few meters from the water's edge. His parents were both native Puerto Ricans, although they both had been born in Ponce but were forced to run to the mountains with most of the other people who were already far enough away from the coast to even have a warning. Javier's parents were one of a group of six families that lived on the island that had once been a part of the central mountain chain. Several of the families began building makeshift bridges out of planks nailed to mostly empty barrels that were tide together, thus making passages between valleys to other mountain chains that were then filled with water.
Javier was raised on rice, beans, and bread (I figure out how to make it work in game later) and so never had the guts to eat anything but those three items, except if you count coffee, of which there was plenty since no nukes had hit the island, mostly because of its lack of strategic value, and the mountain range where they were was at one time a coffee plantation.
After a while, Javier and his family decided it was time to move on. Most of the families were dying off because of adverse health conditions and overall distrust that had formed between the groups of families. One day, a miracle seemed to happen, an old cruise liner simply drifted on by, completely abandoned. Later, Javier discovered that the former occupants had disembarked and were waiting for it to be refueled, and were about to get back on when the flooding took over and killed all, if not most, of them, thus leaving the ship to drift away from port.
Javier and his family boarded after a fierce battle between families that all had built rafts to try and board the vessel. By this time he was already in his 30s, but was still going strong. He, along with his ailing father and depressed mother, began to sail in the direction of their choosing. The fuel ran out halfway through the journey, but because of the currents, they continued at a snails pace. During this time his father died of the sickness that had claimed most of the other islanders, and his mother jumped over the side of the boat with the body, leaving Javier alone and sobbing.
He drifted along the oceans, barely eating, barely living, until one day, his 52nd birthday, the vessel shook violently. Javier got out and saw a frozen land before him, without a clue where he even was. He packed some supplies and took a jaunt out into the open where he wondered for several months.
Finally, he reached a populace. He was drained, he had run out of his food several days before and had been living on snow. He was frail, and on the verge of collapse when a man found him and saved him. This man lived on a boat, or so he said, and because of Javier's gratitude to the man, he joined him on said boat.
The days drifted by slowly on one of the trips, and one morning, Javier woke up to find the man cold as stone, having died in the night. Javier resolved to continue on the ship on the same spot that man had, under the very tarp his friend Florence had died.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like)
*Javier Shakes the pan back and forth on the small stove, the food barely even sizzling.
Herkimer: Hey, Javy, how's them beans goin?
Javier: Their going, rather slow though.
Herkimer: Any chance I can have some?
Javier: Sure you can have some, but you'll have to wait a bit.
*Herkimer sits down in front of the stove waiting for it to cook.
(What? Do you expect something epic? Javier isn't really the epic type, but he never forgets his old shipmates)
In game name: very_berry
Time zone: PST
Age: 15
What role-playing experience do you have?: I have a lot of Roleplay experience, I’ve LARP’d, I’ve been on many Roleplay servers, and now even a co-DM for the Roleplay club I started at my school, so I have a good 3 or 4 years under my belt.
Why did you choose us?: I was browsing the Roleplay servers and this one looked promising, I never went onto a post-apocalyptic sort of server before, so I think this will be an interesting new experience, I also liked how the lore was presented, it made it more interesting (then again, that WAS probably the most interesting lore I’ve ever read.)
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): spencer.cossey2
IC:
Name: Walter
Age: 23 (born in 2057)
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Caucasian, Welsh/Canadian
Place of Birth: United union
Defining characteristics and physical appearance: Walter is a generally an average looking man; Average height, average build, and average weight. Although, Something that isn’t so average is the way he dresses, his favorite outfit is a black suit, with black slacks, a blue undershirt, a tie, and of course his favorite hat. Everything aside from his hat, shirt and tie are black, well, at least they WERE black, and many years of being worn greyed the once bold black a bit. As well, the clothes are a bit torn, and need some patchwork. Aside from that, his hair is black, his eyes are brown, and his skin colour is just slightly tanned. He also has a mustache. Because they’re cool.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Walter is a rather outgoing man, with quite a sense of pride, and even a bit hotheaded if you were to challenge said pride, that being said, he quite the actor and performer. He gets cocky often, and usually gets in fights... and loses them, but he’s able to step back up and ******** his way out of the situation. Walter isn’t exactly the smartest person all of the time (in both book smarts and street smarts) and his educational up bringing was sub-par.
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind: He owns a small apartment of the ship, in the towns on the flight deck.
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
I was born in United Union, around where the denser cities are. My upbringing was a rather average one, with my family being as close to middle class as you got in the ‘new world’ or so I’ve been told. My school was not the greatest; being only about thirty years since the seas rose the place was still recovering. Most of the text books were wrecked, or written in so much to the point they were unreadable, the teachers didn’t do very good jobs either, not to mention food was absolutely terrible! But looking back, I suppose I was the one writing in the books and goofing off… but anyways. Throughout my school ‘career’ I found myself loving the history classes, more so the small section of the year focusing on the early 1900, around WW2, I found myself fascinated, and I seemed to have quite a liking to this time period. The architecture, the movies I’ve read about, the culture, and most importantly the fashion! I loved the fashion in this era, so I tried to replicate it, which is why I love my suit so much.
*mrhrm* anyways, by the time I finished schooling, I was well into an acting career, doing shows here and there, which were all tones of fun and I found I really quite enjoyed acting, even in school I would always sell my speeches during a class even if I had no idea what I was talking about! A bit later in life I found myself interested in seeing the world (a bit cliché I know) and I remembered seeing the grand Ship -The Defiance-, and I imagined it how great it would have been to travel across the sea, looking at other cultures and so on. Luckily, my family was able to save up enough money to send on the ship, since they wanted me to see the world as much I wanted to, that, or they wanted to get rid of me. When I boarded the ship, it wasn’t quite like I imagined it, which is feeling a bit lonesome, perhaps because it was someplace I’ve never been before, but anyways… I was able to secure a small home on the flight deck with the funds my parents gave me, so I’ll have to deal with that eventually, but for now the ship is off to Greenland, as my first time away from home. When I arrived there, taking in the new sights, one of the sailors turned to me “when you leave the ship for good, don’t forget yer old shipmates” he said, and I looked him in the eye and nodded “I won’t”.
RP scenario:
Walter walked down the road, seeming especially pleased with himself today, when all of a sudden he bumps into another man who wasn’t looking where he was going.
Walter: “oh dear, my boy, do watch where you’re going, you wouldn’t want to hurt someone now would you?” Walter brushed off his sleeves.
Man: “hey, what do you mean watch where I’m going? You were the one who wasn’t watching himself.” The man makes himself bigger by puffing his chest.
Walter: “clearly you need to learn some manners, roughian” Walter pulled his sleeves down and put his fists in front of him, ready to fight. The man simply slugs him the gut and he falls to the ground, clutching his stomach “yes, do move along now.. (ugh), I’ll just be on the ground here”
Man: “Next time watch where you’re going” the man shows Walter his fists.
Walter: “Will do!” Walter says over his shoulder at the now departing stranger.
In game name: spawnfan55
Timezone: Central
Age: 15
What role-playing experience do you have?: I've been roleplaying for two years now, and I have had roleplayed on a good few servers for example: Crafthammer, Lord Of The Craft, Erecia, Echoes of the Ancients, and Echoes of Mankind. Most of my time was spent on Lord Of The Craft roleplaying as a orchish blacksmith/merchant, I spent my time on Crafthammer as a orcish shaman, on Echoes of The Ancients I spent time playing as a Nordic hunter, on Erecia I was a Undead miner, and on Echoes of Mankind I had roleplayed as a Super Mutant.
Why did you choose us?: I haven't roleplayed in quite a while and this is a unique idea so I'm willing try out a different form of roleplay. Second of all I want a chance to roleplay with you people again.
Skype Name (Optional for Group Chat): spawnfan55
IC:
Name: Nathan Carter
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Place of Birth: U.S.S Defiance
Defining characteristics and physical appearance:
Nathan Carter is moderately sized man standing at 5'11 weighing in around 190 pounds along with a wiry frame. He is a trained third generation U.S Navy diver with a little bit of knowledge of the area. Nathan has somewhat of a gruff attitude having somewhat of a tendency to ignore others and lashing out at anyone that mocks him. He lacks confidence in his abilities despite the fact he's one of the last U.S. Navy divers left onboard the ship alongside his brother. He retains the no-******** attitude of the U.S. Navy Divers he descends from, and because of that he's not afraid to call out on other's ********. He isn't as skilled as the original U.S. Navy divers in terms of operations and combat but he knows how to deal with ordnance and equipment at a somewhat decent level.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Nathan Carter has some knowledge of the world, ships, equipment, ordnance, and other junk left over from the flood, along with some knowledge of the Old World. He's trained in the use of diving equipment, underwater ordnance, and underwater operations as well. He has a lack of confidence in his abilities because he knows he will never be as good as the first generation U.S Navy divers. Nathan is nervous and on edge due to his experience with Search and Rescue missions and the like. He also deeply cares for his younger brother Joshua due to the amount of time they have spent alongside each other on missions
Does your character own property on the ship? If so, what kind:
He shares a small cabin decorated with U.S. memorabilia and junk gathered up from ruins at the bottom of the ocean in the upper deck of the ship with his brother. His ordinary diving suit, diving equipment, personal weapons, and rebreather sit at the top of his closet alongside his brother's equipment. He owns a old M48 Talon survival spear alongside a Smith&Wesson CKSUR2 fixed blade search and rescue survival knife as well as a harpoon gun
Background Story (At least two quality paragraphs):
Nathan Carter was born down in the medical bay of the ship to a Nuclear engineer named Margaret Johnson and a second generation U.S. Navy diver named Matthew Carter. His father was among the several dozen second generation trained U.S. Navy divers left on the aircraft carrier who aided in underwater missions and the like. He was a descendant of the original workforce of U.S. Navy divers that survived amongst the U.S.S. Defiance as the great flood encompassed most of the world’s land. They dedicated themselves to preserving the human race by performing many underwater operations and salvaging goods from the ruins of the old world left under the surface of the flooded world. Their numbers dwindled as the ship’s main personnel started to get overwhelmed by the many people who flocked upon the ship for shelter, turning the remaining U.S. Navy personnel into the minority as many civilians became the majority.
The U.S. Navy divers managed to retain most of their patriotic demeanor throughout the time after the flood, and this reinforced their resolve as they continued to help out the remainders of the human race. Nathan Carter was brought up in a patriotic environment that practically worshipped the dead U.S., where he was taught about the Old World’s history along with all the pre-disaster equipment that the U.S. Navy divers tend to salvage from the ruins of the Old World. Nathan Carter received limited training that taught him about some aspects of combat, diving, survival, and how to manage pre-disaster equipment and ordnance. He spent many years diving and performing missions alongside his father and the remaining U.S. Navy divers salvaging equipment and learning about the Old World, especially the U.S. as he grew up serving the remaining bits of command left on the ship. His view of the world constantly shifted as the ship was constantly on the move and dealing with trouble of some sort, from pirates to problems with food, to overpopulation, or problems with the internal systems of the ship.
His parents died when he was 21 during a mission that involved disarming pre-disaster mines causing a good amount of the U.S. Navy divers to die that he was not capable of going on due to a injury he had received in a brutal sparring match with a rival U.S. Navy diver. Nathan Carter grieved for several weeks till he was capable of moving on, acknowledging the fact that his parents were dead and he had to continue caring for the ship, it’s crew, and his brother. Several years past as he and his brother performed many underwater missions that felt rather empty without the familiar faces that they were used to diving with. He grew weary of the fact that the knowledge his parents contained about the Old World had gone with them, and he and his brother were stuck in a world where they had to learn on their own with very few people that could teach him the old ways, with little to remember their old shipmates by.
Rp Scenario (Two paragraphs, any scenario you'd like):
Nathan Carter stands amongst the side of the deck alongside his brother as a crane lifts a small motorized raft for him to get in, whilst the crane raises the raft he goes to initiate a check on their diving equipment.
Joshua yawns slightly as his brother Nathan checks over the equipment. Joshua asks a simple question "What exactly are we diving for today?"
Nathan slightly snarls as he replies "The Navigator has ordered for us to dive for bits of scrap metal and to look for any sunken ships like usual."
Joshua sighs as they finish checking over the equipment and step into the raft as it rises to the top.
Nathan sits down and grunts casually stating "Rumor has it a woman is growing opium in her quarters, I don't know exactly how you can farm plants on a aircraft carrier, but I'll note if she is farming opium she is breaking several ship regulations but like anyone follows those anymore"
Joshua chuckles as they hit the water and look around, they go to turn on the motor and move out towards a certain spot in the ocean dotted with bits of buoyant floating bottles. He and his brother put on their diving suits and equipment and jump in the water.
Nathan looks around them as they slowly dive deeper down into a desolate abandoned city filled with large buildings. He brings a small crate with him down to the bottom as the two start gathering pieces of scrap metal, plastic, and many other random bits of scrap.
Joshua nods towards the crate as he moves over to secure it from Nathan.
Nathan's eyes fill with shock as he catches sight of a sunken fishing boat lodged in a alleyway between two buildings. He violently waves his hands at Joshua and points towards the ship.
Joshua shares Nathan's surprise as he notices the mediocre boat. He goes to strap the crate into a safe position as Nathan begins moving towards it.
Nathan swims closer towards the boat but notices something out of the ordinary when he's a large hole that appears to have bitten into the side. He slightly hesistates as a large hammerhead shark appears
Accepted! Decent enough application, Might be a wee bit hard to survive on those food products alone though.
Accepted! Actor, eh? Gen's going to like you...
Accepted! Done and done. You might not get the harpoon gun as a starter item though, we'll have to think on that.
Your maximum amount of allowed question mark use was exceeded, please egress the thread immediately.
Look, The character is plain bad sounding. A character that exists like that is just asking for terrible roleplay. We don't need character that are 'chaotic evil'... It's just bad and promotes awful situations. If you really have to be a cannibal, that's fine. I've seen people do it decently well in the past, but they are calm and collected ones. Not violent psychopaths that attack everyone they see. Now to be honest, I don't think that's something you can pull off. Your grammar and spelling structure leave much to be desired.
Due to this, your have one(1) option if you still wish to apply. Scrap the character and start from new. He won't work here.
Cheers
-Syvs
We hope to have it finished by the end of the week and posted in the OP. Once that's done, we can look into hiring some more builders to finish up the work still needed.
-Staff Team
Love the concept you guys have here.
Quick question.Where do you intend to 'host' the majority of the server?Seems like it would be a little difficult for RP if players are fragmented amongst various colonies/empires/etc...(I reread and answered my own question at the bottom)
Depending on the build style if you guys need a builder I might be able to help.