We still have a great amount of building to do. If we do keep up with this steady pace like we have been we should be released in no time. In the famous words of Syvs "Soon™"
Fallout is in our roots. It always has been. We enjoyed our previous servers that focused on Fallout quite a bit. The player base seemed to enjoy them quite a bit as well so we're going to give everyone a nice time once more.
Now, Fish. You know you have a past among the server staff that's less than reputable. If you continue to be passive aggressive and antagonistic your posts will be reported to clean up the thread.
Thank you, have nice day.
~Mr Sibs.
( The build continues, and as previously stated. "Soon" )
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): Dylan Summers
Time Zone: CST
Prior Bans and reasons: Two years ago I was banned from Massivecraft for hostile attitude against community, after simply joking about stabbing a guy…. Even the guy knew it was banter and he left soon after me.
Define Role-play:
Role-play is putting yourself in a persona of another person that said person is made in the imagination of the person and you have to fully develop the person you create and carve out a personality for said person along with interacting with other people’s persona.
Define Powergaming:
Doing things and not allowing the other person to react to said things. Such as combat, player A keeps stabbing the person over and over not allowing the person to attempt to stop the attack or type out a way to do so.
Define Metagaming:
Knowing something in RP that you character never heard of using OOC reasons to know, such as one of your friends are killed and you then kill his killer for no reason, not knowing he killed your friend ICly.
I have over 500+ hours plugged into both games and have played on a majority of Minecraft server as stated above.
Have you read the rules?:
"There is no escaping the Shadows of the Old World.", yup.
Write any further questions here:
How is your day? =3.
Will there going to be a NPC base, mostly due to I want to be a slaver and I would like more variety than the player base. NPC’s are a good way to do this?
IC:
Character Name: Calvin_Hood
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance (Please include an in-game screenshot of your skin):
Strengths: He is strong from basically being in the wasteland from childhood. He is not muscular however. He is dent with a sniper rifle from his dealings in the Empire Waste. Charismatic and uses this to mask his true self.
Weaknesses: Cannot understand good form bad. Has issues enslaving children.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. (Like in the games, you have 40 points to allocate. You must have at least one point in each, and cannot have more than ten.):
Strength: 6
Perception: 8
Endurance: 9
Charisma: 6
Intelligence: 5
Agility: 4
Luck: 2
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
Calvin Hood was born to a slaving party deep in the DC area, their camp was based in the Empire Wasteland, near the town of Maltz. By the time the party returned he was just turning five. His parents were soon to leave on another ‘hunting party’, basically abandoning young Calvin. He wouldn’t see them again for eight years, to be fair, by that time he wouldn’t really care if they returned.
Throughout his very short childhood would not be much of a story. Up until he was fifteen to survive he would steal the slave’s food, not like the slavers cared, hell they loved to watch the slaves suffer. When he turned fifteen he had the option to join the Slavers. Calvin knew if he left he wouldn’t live a normal life as the slaver hub was all he knew. If he were to stay around and not work for them he would run the risks of being enslaved himself. So that year he decided to join.
For a month’s time the slavers taught him basics. He learnt to shoot a gun, apply slaver collars, and basically every other thing he should know about the trade. He picked up on it rather quickly. Even after learning all this basic knowledge he would end up being a guard for another two months’ time. This would change however, like all things.
One day one of his friends, Austin Wells, decided to ask Calvin if he wanted to do a slaving party out in DC. Excited for the chance to do something Calvin said yes. After this it was easy for the two to pull in a small group. In ten days they accumulated a group of sixteen, mostly new guards and youth looking for quick work. A majority of the group were just people who wondered into the slaver hub.
Once the party was ready and the older slavers accepted it, the group set out. The travel to DC was the easy part. They made it there with no deaths and little interaction with people. Whatever bullets that were shot was out of drunk or drug filled fun. Upon arriving the group set up a camp in an old gas station. The young men didn’t think of the tactical advantage of the palce at the time, but never the less it was there.
After about a week or two one of the slaver party’s members returned telling Calvin and Austin about a small family down the road in an old town. Seeing this as easy pickings the three made their way to the small town. Like most places people settled it seemed to be pre-war buildings. The family that they were looking for lived in an old apartment building. The group just simply walked up and began to beat at the door. Not soon after this began a shotgun shell flew through the doorway hitting the third guy clear off the balcony. As he laid there dead Austin open the door gunning the man down. Around the dead man laid a women and two kids.
Upon returning to camp the group held a small party, getting completely ****ed up by drugs and such. This happened for a couple of months until finally they gained the attention of a much bigger group.
A raider group from the area finally passed by their camp, seeing the youth as an easy kill they began to raid them. A majority of the group died, including Austin, Calvin’s best friend. They group now dwindling at four. Picked up their belongings and caravanned the slaves back home. When the returned they were paid well. Even if the loss of life was great, the group made a profit.
The three other people spoke of staying together and going for more runs but Calvin couldn’t do it. With Austin gone he had no reason other than money to do it. None of his group had any skills what so ever to help in long term travels. Calvin left deciding it would be safe to say he should stay close to home for a time, and this is where we start off. Calvin having decided to stay home for the time being and do work from the Empire Wastes. He did this for four or five years, wandering around the slaver Hub he heard about a group out in Niagara Falls. He wanted to leave this horrid place and ready for adventure he sets off… Will he make his travel and join the slavers in the region or will events get in the way, one can only wait and see.
(This is an already made character for a server I would like to import, please?)
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?:
*He would examine the scene thinking to self-* “Well this isn’t my problem” *As he presumes to simply walk away.* (This is legitly what my char would do…)
Dammit Gen stop abusing your poor OOC section! It's still sobbing in a corner! Until you know how to rightfully treat it you are... ((Sorry Gen please don't yell at me. Treat your OOC section better next time!))
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): You have it
Time Zone: AST GMT/UTC 4 hours
Prior Bans and reasons: Temp ban because of stealing when it wasn't allowed because I misread a very confusing piece of text.
Define Roleplay: Taking a character up as your own and playing out how they would react and interact with their surroundings
Define Powergaming: To be Superman. To have godlike indestructible powers. Also to force people to do something without a choice when they should have a choice.
Define Metagaming: Using ooc information Ic
Previous roleplay experience: Akavir, LoTC (we all have bad days), EoM, TLA, forum based roleplay
Previous Fallout experience: Haven't played the games yet, waiting for Fallout 4
Have you read the rules?: yes, and there is no escaping the Shadows of the Old World, that is until the server gets shut down and we start the build cycle again
Write any further questions here: N/A
IC:
Character Name: SeanAntony Davenport
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Caucasin
Appearance (Please include an ingame screenshot of your skin): 6’2’’, quite muscular, wide shoulders, medium length ginger hair with a ponytail done in the back. Civilian clothes: wears an old whiteish Tshirt and an old, black bikers jacket along with raggedy jeans.
Strengths: Good with words, can talk his way out of most situations, has decent amount of strength and is quite smart, knowing a bit about electronics, though not enough to do much more that make a quick repair job.
Weaknesses: Is hot headed, lacks a firm sense of morality, isn't really flexible in planning
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. (Like in the games, you have 40 points to allocate. You must have at least one point in each, and cannot have more than ten.):
Strength :5
Perception:5
Endurance: 5
Charisma: 9
Intelligence: 7
Agility:4
Luck:5
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
-(Exert from correspondence between Senior Paladin Henry Johnson and Elder Katherine Kubrick)-
The next section is in regards to the recent suggestion to give one Knight SeanAntony Davenport the rank of Knight Commander. The soldier has gone under inspection as per protocol, and the details of his inspection are within.
Parentage: His father, one Alan Sheppard Davenport, had an interesting relationship with the Brotherhood in that unlike most wastelanders, he would actively seek out technology only to give it to us without question, stating it had been his full intention to do so in the first place. It was later discovered that he had an interest in one of our Knights at the time, one Helen Watterson, who also shared the man's feelings. Eventually, the man was allowed to join the Brotherhood, and proved to be quite the asset in that most of the wastelanders had a certain fondness for him, allowing the retrieval of technologies much less bloody. Alan and Helen were eventually married as a joint celebration with Alan acquiring the rank of Knight, while Helen had already achieved the rank of Paladin. Helen fell pregnant within the next two months, and was transferred to less active assignments within the confines of the base due to the fact she had been found unable to perform her duties as a Paladin quite as efficiently. Her birthing was an easy one, and no deformities or sicknesses were detected. After a rest period, she returned to her duties as Paladin with relative ease.
Helen currently is stationed in upper Pennsylvania as a Senior Paladin. Alan's location is unknown because of his desertion and joining the Outcast when he was a Knight on route with one of our shipments to the Capital Wastes. These events occurred after SeanAntony became a Knight.
Personal Record: SeanAntony had certain peculiarities that had been noted ever since he had the ability to speak. It seemed he always had the ability to talk his way in and out of situations. At the age of nine, he convinced one of the Knights who had been doing target practice to allow him to practice with the weapon. SeanAntony, surprisingly, was able to hit the target, though only half of the beam hit the outer most ring on the target, which was rare for someone with no experience with weapons. SeanAntony was accepted as a Initiate at the age of eighteen, though in technicalities he had been training off and on since the previously mentioned interaction. This training allowed him to pass his first marksmanship test with relative ease, though it barely gave him an advantage anywhere else. He obtained the rank of Knight on his twenty-third birthday, only delayed at his mother and father's behest. SeanAntony quickly learned how to operate Power Armor with relative ease within the first month of training. He has continued to improve in skill and over all battle capabilities, though he is not quite as mobile as other Knights in his training bracket.
Assessment: SeanAntony is quite distinguished in most every area in regards to his usual training, but there is one obstacle I can see that might prove a difficulty for SeanAntony. Though he has talent in fighting and tactics, and has excellent leadership qualities, he has the problem that he has his father's disposition, and not towards rebelling. His moral compass doesn't seem to exist, and so he may double back and second guess choice, which might prove to be his downfall. He may believe an action is the most righteous, or at least the less evil, and the next moment refer to that same action as diabolical. As such, I believe that SeanAntony requires some more time, and perhaps new surroundings to move forward in his path to becoming a better member of the Brotherhood. Thus, it is my suggestion to not give SeanAntony the rank of Paladin, but to transfer him to a new location. I have received reports that the Niagara Chapter may be in need of certain supplies and some more soldiers. Perhaps SeanAntony should be relocated to that position?
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt. Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Halfused first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?:
SeanAntony* sees the scene and shrugs, walking up towards the scene.
Merchant: H-Help me! Please!
SeanAntony* walks past, ignoring the man, heading straight for the box of supplies
Merchant: You can have whatever you want, just help me!
SeanAntony: That would be a deal, but you have no ability to stop me, so the real deal in this case is to take my prize.
Guard: Hey buddy! *draws gun and points it at SeanAntony with shaky aim.
SeanAntony* turns fully to look at the man."Hey, look buddy, why shoot me, I didn't even touch you." *tosses a stimpak to the Merchant and a mentat to the Guard.
Merchant* grabs the the stimpak and injects it into himself
Guard* takes the mentat
SeanAntony* takes Le junk and walks off
Hello TMR, glad to see you have taken interest in the server, however, there are a few things I would like to point out here and there, sadly, this means you are denied for now until these issues are either clarified or fixed up, now let us begin!
- SeanAntony, is an interesting seeming name, is Antony supposed to be a middle name? It just seems, very odd of a first name.
- It slightly concerns me that your character, with no experience, at nine years old, was a good shot with a gun, even pointing out that this was 'rare', it kind of makes it feel as though a bit of a 'prodigy' like character, or just had dumb luck who knows.
- Make sure that the BoS faction leader allows this as passable as well, ESPECIALLY, the power armor training part.
- There is, a bit of a contradiction in your application as well. In the weaknesses section you mentioned a lack of flexibility in planning, however, in your backstory you 180 that and say his down fall is double backing and second guessing.
- In the RP example the merchant is dead, so unless you can talk to the dead the merchant would not have been begging for help.
Strengths: Good at running. Likes to practice her shooting. Can throw a good punch if need be. Pretty good at making plans. A pretty good hunter.
Weaknesses: Easily distracted, Can get ahead of herself. Tends to overthink things.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. (Like in the games, you have 40 points to allocate. You must have at least one point in each, and cannot have more than ten.):
Strength:10
Perception:4
Endurance:2
Charisma:8
Intelligence:10
Agility:1
Luck:5
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
Ever since she was born, Stevi was always bossed around. When she was younger she was worked for how incredible strong she was. In school she was always forced to give people answers when they asked, most of the time unwillingly. Even when Her family left vault 83, She was bossed around.
After wandering the wastelands however, her parents soon died to a mirelurk attack, and she was free to not only be herself. But to boss people around as revenge for all those who bossed her around. People she considered kind would maybe get a gift or two from her. She liberated slaves who did not deserve to be there. All the while occasionally collecting bad souls to do things for her, who all in little time died.
Now she walks through the wastelands, in search for innocent souls to liberate, and Bad souls to imprison untill death.
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?: I Decide to Give the living guard the bottle of water and inject the stimpak into his leg. I help him up and begin to look for shelter from the storm.
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): I'll give that out if/when accepted
Time Zone: MST - (Mountain Standard Time)
Prior Bans and reasons: im clean m8
Define Role-play: In my words, it's like... taking a character (from something or one you made) and becoming them? Like.. living in their world, seeing through their eyes, walking hundreds of miles in their shoes. That probably only makes some sense.
Define Powergaming: *throws knife and hits ____ right in the eye* would be an example. It's like forcing someone to do something in an RP, or making it so you arent killable and/or can kill anyone with a direct shot. You have to give them option, for say: *____ attempts to throw the knife at ____, but the throw was off, possibly making ____ miss. *
Define Metagaming: Let's say someone said that theres some **** going down in ____ location, and you immediately head there without any IC knowledge of whats going on. It's using OOC knowledge to affect IC things that your character wouldn't know anything about.
Previous roleplay experience: it's been a while since i've done anything on here, and that was with a different account anyway, but to put it simply: a lot.
Previous Fallout experience: I have played through Fallout 3 twice, Fallout NV and it's DLC... 4 times? And I tried Fallout 1-2/Tactics etc. and I'm just not one for the turn based style of it all, but I have done plenty of research on the lore and whatnot. Let's just say I obsess over Fallout. One of my favorite games, yo.
Have you read the rules?: Yea man. Theres no escaping the shadows of the Old World, eh?
Write any further questions here:
Other: i'd say ignore all the posts ive previously made, because I look at those and cringe. that really isn't how i am anymore.
IC:
Character Name: Rosemary 'Ross' Warner
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Race: Caucasian
Appearance (Please include an in-game screenshot of your skin): http://prntscr.com/8223eh (Not ingame, but.)
Strengths: Sharpshooter, okay talker, good strategist.
Weaknesses: Can't throw a punch, bad with computers/robots, hard to work with, ignores her own strategies when angry.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L:
Strength: 4
Perception: 9
Endurance: 7
Charisma: 4
Intelligence: 6
Agility: 8
Luck: 2
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
Born into a family of wealthy 'Human Marketers' - or in more common terms, slavers- Rosemary Warner was taught the ways of the slaver early on in her life. The organization, although not only people with direct blood relations, was called The Family. Rosemary had always felt sympathy for the slaves, but she would never turn on her own business. Her first slave capture was at the age of 8, when her small size allowed her to hide in a nearby Wastelander camp. She hid till night, and over the night she collared the leader, and brought him back to their home. This started her rise through the ranks of her own family business. At 16, she herself was captured by a rival group of slavers, but her knowledge of the tech used allowed her to escape, but not before teaching them a lesson. The encampment was left with seven dead bodies, and all their slaves were moved to The Family's slave group.
In 2275, when Rosemary was 19 years old, The Family had received a letter from a man named Chavez Walter in Niagara. Supposedly, he was from another slave group with an undisclosed name. Rosemary, her brothers, and her parents all went, as the letter asked. They had a high suspicion that they were being led into a trap, and so they were. The guards they brought along were shot in the head as they entered the gates of the compound. Approximately 14 men came out from multiple entrances, surrounding the group and keeping them still with threats of a bullet to the head.
As to be guessed, it all went wrong. Rosemary and her brother, Tom, were the only survivors, as they didn't try to put up a fight. As she looked at the bodies of her own family, she felt no guilt. To her, they were only tools to teach her how to live and survive. The men let them free, as the Family was already destroyed. And there and then, the Family was disbanded.
Now with nowhere else to go, Rosemary stayed in Niagara, taking up the name of Ross as a slight play on her own name. She had heard of another slave group here in Niagara, so here was her chance to find it. That was her only goal as of now, to find a place where her skills could be used.
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?:
Upon witnessing the scene, the only logical option for Ross was to salvage. She immediately began searching the wreckage, ignoring the moaning of the man with the shot off leg. He was yelling at her to stop, to help him, to try to help him to a doctor. She ignored his cries, finding nothing in the cases of discarded loot. Nothing but empty Nuka Cola bottles and a couple caps. She moved over to the man, watching him as he painfully tried to pull himself up. She contemplated trying to take him along with her, but decided it wasn't worth it. She loaded a bullet into the chamber of her pistol, and shot him in the temple. He died immediately, without another sound. There was no way she would waste supplies on a man who couldn't be saved. She then took any supplies he had left on him, and found shelter under a highway overpass.
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): You have it
Time Zone: AST GMT/UTC 4 hours
Prior Bans and reasons: Temp ban because of stealing when it wasn't allowed because I misread a very confusing piece of text.
Define Roleplay: Taking a character up as your own and playing out how they would react and interact with their surroundings
Define Powergaming: To be Superman. To have godlike indestructible
powers. Also to force people to do something without a choice when they
should have a choice.
Define Metagaming: Using ooc information Ic
Previous roleplay experience: Akavir, LoTC (we all have bad days), EoM, TLA, forum based roleplay
Previous Fallout experience: Haven't played the games yet, waiting for Fallout 4
Have you read the rules?: yes, and there is no escaping the Shadows
of the Old World, that is until the server gets shut down and we start
the build cycle again
Write any further questions here: N/A
IC:
Character Name: Sean Antony Davenport
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Caucasin
Appearance (Please include an ingame screenshot of your skin): 6’2’’,
quite muscular, wide shoulders, medium length ginger hair with a
ponytail done in the back. Civilian clothes: wears an old whiteish
Tshirt and an old, black bikers jacket along with raggedy jeans.
Strengths: Good with words, can talk his way out of most situations,
has decent amount of strength and is quite smart, knowing a bit about
electronics, though not enough to do much more that make a quick repair
job.
Weaknesses: Is hot headed, lacks a firm sense of morality, isn't really flexible in planning in concerns to the suggestions others provide, occasionally has problems with his lack of morality when executing his plans (wandering if what he is doing is actually good or not)
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. (Like in the games, you have 40 points to allocate.
You must have at least one point in each, and cannot have more than
ten.):
Strength :5
Perception:5
Endurance: 5
Charisma: 9
Intelligence: 7
Agility:4
Luck:5
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
-(Exert from correspondence between Senior Paladin Henry Johnson and Elder Katherine Kubrick)-
The next section is in regards to the recent suggestion to give one
Knight Sean Antony Davenport the rank of Knight Commander. The soldier
has gone under inspection as per protocol, and the details of his
inspection are within.
Parentage: His father, one Alan Sheppard Davenport, had an interesting
relationship with the Brotherhood in that unlike most wastelanders, he
would actively seek out technology only to give it to us without
question, stating it had been his full intention to do so in the first
place. It was later discovered that he had an interest in one of our
Knights at the time, one Helen Watterson, who also shared the man's
feelings. Eventually, the man was allowed to join the Brotherhood, and
proved to be quite the asset in that most of the wastelanders had a
certain fondness for him, allowing the retrieval of technologies much
less bloody. Alan and Helen were eventually married as a joint
celebration with Alan acquiring the rank of Knight, while Helen had
already achieved the rank of Paladin. Helen fell pregnant within the
next two months, and was transferred to less active assignments within
the confines of the base due to the fact she had been found unable to
perform her duties as a Paladin quite as efficiently. Her birthing was
an easy one, and no deformities or sicknesses were detected. After a
rest period, she returned to her duties as Paladin with relative ease.
Helen currently is stationed in upper Pennsylvania as a Senior Paladin.
Alan's location is unknown because of his desertion and joining the
Outcast when he was a Knight on route with one of our shipments to the
Capital Wastes. These events occurred after Sean became a Knight.
Personal Record: Sean had certain peculiarities that had been
noted ever since he had the ability to speak. It seemed he always had
the ability to talk his way in and out of situations. At the age of
nine, he convinced one of the Knights who had been doing target practice
to allow him to practice with the weapon. Sean, surprisingly, was
able to hit the target, though only half of the beam hit the outer most
ring on the target, which was rare for someone with no experience with
weapons. Sean was accepted as a Initiate at the age of eighteen,
though in technicalities he had been training off and on since the
previously mentioned interaction. This training allowed him to pass his
first marksmanship test with relative ease, though it barely gave him an
advantage anywhere else. He obtained the rank of Knight on his
twenty-third birthday, only delayed at his mother and father's behest.
Sean quickly learned how to operate Power Armor with relative ease
within the first month of training. He has continued to improve in
skill and over all battle capabilities, though he is not quite as mobile
as other Knights in his training bracket.
Assessment: Sean is quite distinguished in most every area in
regards to his usual training, but there is one obstacle I can see that
might prove a difficulty for Sean. Though he has talent in
fighting and tactics, and has excellent leadership qualities, he has the
problem that he has his father's disposition, and not towards
rebelling. His moral compass doesn't seem to exist, and so he may double
back and second guess choice, which might prove to be his downfall. He
may believe an action is the most righteous, or at least the less evil,
and the next moment refer to that same action as diabolical. As such, I
believe that Sean requires some more time, and perhaps new
surroundings to move forward in his path to becoming a better member of
the Brotherhood. Thus, it is my suggestion to not give Sean the
rank of Paladin, but to transfer him to a new location. I have received
reports that the Niagara Chapter may be in need of certain supplies and
some more soldiers. Perhaps Sean should be relocated to that
position?
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large
black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large
thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin
to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the
radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming
from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before
approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a
list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a
Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant
lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers
his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two
guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her
caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is
struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels,
his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a
bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt. Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Halfused first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?:
Sean* walks up on the scene and shrugs, making a beeline towards the bow of supplies
Guard "Hey, man, can I get some help!"
Sean* Ignore the man and grabs the junk
Guard "H-hey, stop it, don't take that?" *pull out his gun, aiming it shakily towards Sean
Sean* turns to the man "Oiy, I was looking fer sumtin tah give yeh, but yeh t'aint got nutin that could help yeh. Ere, av tis." *tosses a mentant towards the guard and wlaks away before something else happens
Guard* takes the mentant
(the BoS commander was contacted and has no problems by what he says)
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): matthewdollbeef
Time Zone: Mountain Time
Prior Bans and reasons: i don't think so mister
Define Role-play: It's performing a certain role, speaking and acting as your character would, to achieve a certain goal; storytelling!
Define Powergaming: Powergaming, very simply, is forcing actions upon another player to achieve one's own progress, without consideration of the other's. An example could be *stabs through the head, instantly ending the man's life.*
Define Metagaming: Using OOC info to your advantage, or something your character wouldn't know, and applying it to achieve a goal.
Previous roleplay experience: Lord of the Craft, Fallout 3 RP, Wild Wastelands 2, Skyrim RP, and probably some others I don't remember. (desolate roads)
Previous Fallout experience: Fallout 3, Fallout NV, and various different lore readings.
Have you read the rules?: Mmmmm yeas. There is no escaping the Shadows of the Old World.
Write any further questions here: Only one. I'm hoping that I'm accepted into BoS as my character's background, and am currently unsure if items are able to still be requested. However, if they are I'd request a holotag, symbolizing Benedict's accordance to the BoS.
Weaknesses: His relaxed personality is a pretty big flaw, sometimes not seeing the actual problem with a situation, and sometimes finding himself in narrow situations with superiors. He can be easily persuaded and influenced, despite being a silver tongue himself. Physically, he is not the strongest around, only boasting a tiny bit of developed muscle.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. (Like in the games, you have 40 points to allocate. You must have at least one point in each, and cannot have more than ten.):
Strength: 4
Perception: 9
Endurance: 4
Charisma: 5
Intelligence: 7
Agility: 7
Luck: 4
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs): Benedict Pierce was, and is, what continues to be a rather strange man. Born 15 miles east of the island of Manhattan in the year 2258 to George Pierce and Milly O'Donnel. At the time, George was a Knight in the Brotherhood, and Milly, a normal wastelander. Under the circumstances, and his probable banishment from the Brotherhood, George had not stayed around for the birth of his child with an outsider woman. He did however, happen to swoop by just in time to pick the child from his mother, the both of them screaming. The young Benedict Pierce, screaming bloody murder, was taken away from his mother. George returned to the Manhattan section of the New York chapter of the Brotherhood with the now calm Benedict Pierce. It would be a long, unforgiving road for Benedict in the years to come.
Benedict was made into a squire, spending his younger days scrubbing toilets, cleaning the Paladin's boots of waste, and cleaning, greasing, and treating of their weaponry. The only comfort he was to find, was at the end of the long days, when he was allowed sleep, though only a few hours worth. He would remain as a squire for the years to come, being picked on, and even ridiculed at times by the senior members. His father had all but abandoned him, as he had been summoned to the farther reaches of the south, in the bogs of Louisiana. Occasionally, he would receive letters from him, only one in a year however.
One fateful day however, things began to turn for Benedict, when he turned the age of thirteen. On a day when there was no work to be done, he was approached by the leader of the Manhattan section, and was told he was to finally become an Initiate of the Brotherhood of Steel. Suddenly, he had found himself in a small set of modified recon armor to fit his smaller body, on a tiny metal sheet platform, looking down the iron sights of a 9mm sidearm, the weapon pointed down range at a target's heart. He had squeezed on the trigger with his tiny fingers, and-! The bullet travelled down range, sending a rather loud ringing noise through his ears, as he looked at where he had fired. The bullet's hole that was created was found 4 inches away from the heart, on the arm. His Paladin in charge of instructing him pinched the bridge of his nose, and shook his head at the sorry attempt. This would be the first of many shots performed by Benedict, his aim getting better and better with each and every passing day. He trained continuously, each and every day for the next six years, until he was given his first assignment.
Yet another fateful day, when Benedict had mastered his aim with light weaponry, and stabbed at every hay target humanly imaginable, Benedict was told that it was time for him to start his own journey, with a few other of his Initiate comrades. At the age of 19, it was his day to finally set out. The night before, he had set out his bag, packed with foods and baked goods from a senior member. They were to travel to Niagara Falls, to assist the less than numerous Niagara Falls division of the New York chapter. Benedict tied his famed bandana that he had received from his father in one of his letters, as the rest of the Initiates packed their bags, ammunitions, and cleaned their rifles. Benedict slung his bag over his shoulder, and set off into the dawn of a rather bright, and as hopeful as the wasteland may get, morning.
Starting out, the hopeful band of Initiates made their way toward Niagara, running into resistance from raiders, slavers, and mutated creatures of the wastes. However, the proud Initiates traversed onward, taking casualties. However, their pride would begin to tarnish, as slowly, one by one the Initiates thinned in numbers. Their original starting number, seven, had been thinned down to two. Of the original five, one had been picked off by a lone sniper on a rooftop, another two killed by a bottle cap mine, another having his life ended by a Yao Guai, and another being squashed by falling debris when clearing a building. All that remained, were the Initiate Benedict, and the young Squire Maxton. Benedict looked over the young Squire with a less than hopeful look, as they continued onward, less than their formerly proud selves. At current time, they had been in Buffalo, only 19 miles remained to the Niagara division of the Brotherhood. While traveling through a rather thick section of brush and tree, Maxton found a bear trap clamping down upon his leg. Benedict reacted quickly, rushing over to his side after hearing the sound of his pain. He looked his wounds over, and dressed them as best as possible; though it was to no avail, as the young Squire had already lost too much blood. Benedict picked up the body of the lifeless thirteen year old, with a look of grimace plastered upon his lips. He set him down upon a tall rock on a hill, looking over the wood and forests. Benedict continued onward, through the wood and brush, with an odd, cheery grin on his face. Rather strange, one might describe it as. Benedict continued on, to the now, almost stormy looking sky. Soft thunder claps could be heard oft in the distance. ((If more is needed, I can continue on, but it seems kind of pointless to do so, as it just loops to the RP example upcoming. Up until this point at his journey, he just had practiced around at base in the New York section until age 19, where he started the journey as described.))
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?: Benedict, who had been wearied, and tired from traveling miles upon miles in a single day, looked upon the sorry mess of the caravan, a few hundred yards away. His eyes could be seen quickly darting around, as he looked around for anyone else who may be around. He nods firmly to himself once, as he stands up from his crouched position, as he rather casually strolls over to the caravan's heap, with a slight pursing of his lips as he arrives. He takes a sip of the water inside of his bag, setting it back inside when finished. His head tilts to the side ever so slightly, as he looks over the first guard, then at his blown off leg. "My, my, /my/ sir, what on earth happened to you? That shirt? With those shoes?" The guard responds to him, only in screams of pain and misfortune. "N- no, p- ple- please.. !" He manages to groan out, though Benedict remains with an unchanging, bored look as his expression. "Doooooon't care." His hand reaches down to his side, and pulls up on the 10mm's sliding handle, cocking the gun back as a soft click-click can be heard. The sidearm is aimed at the man's most likely fearful looking face, as he squeezes on the trigger, the bullet traveling swiftly toward his skull. He blows on the gun's smoke which is produced from the firing, as he quotes; "And keep the change, ya' filthy animal." And with that, he quickly cascades to the floor, picking up a kneeled position, as his hand gently strokes the face of the now very much dead guard. "It's okay. It'll allllll be better. Don't you worry about just a thing." He speaks with a hopeful voice, and rather ironically cheery, despite the situation at hand. He rises up from the ground once more, now looking over to the thunderheads rapidly approaching. "Oooo, lovely." His feet find themselves making their way over to the second dead guard. He says nothing, as he picks up her shotgun with a rather hardened face, pulling back on the gauge to see if anything is in the slot. After finding nothing, he groans a tiny bit. "Bah." His legs traverse more, this time over to the merchant. He kneels once more, as he picks up the box of materials that had been dropped by the merchant, tucking it snuggly into his pack. He rises from the floor, and his eyes dart to the even more fast approaching storm clouds, as he breaks into a fast paced run, in the search of anywhere to avoid the drizzle that now comes down upon his recon hooded head. Finally, almost as if by miracle, he had found a small break in the highway; a cracked down bridge where he could rest for the night. He slides down the rubble on his back, ending up on the ground under the safe protection of the bridge. When under the destroyed bridge, he opens his pack, and grabs at the salisbury steak in his pouch, lawing himself to sleep in the taste of the well earned food. After a rather rough night, in the morning he picks up the radio, groggily rubbing his eyes with his closed fists. He turns it to a dial to communicate, in a rather serious tone, his words pronunciated. "This is Initiate Benedict Pierce. I am a few miles out of Niagara. The rest of my squadron has been killed. I am the only survivor. I will be in the division by mid-day. Expect me." He clicks off the radio, and continues onward to Niagara.
((There isn't a section to make a comment, and I already asked a question there, so I'm doing it here. I realize that I was, perhaps the worst BoS member on F:WW back last year, and this is my attempt to try to redeem myself and actually RP it correctly. hint hint no more grape this time around : ^ ) ))
Strengths: Self Motivated, Determined, and Hardworking.
Weaknesses: Too helpful, lacks some social skills, and never feels comfortable until he's completed his work.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. (Like in the games, you have 40 points to allocate. You must have at least one point in each, and cannot have more than ten.):
Strength: 5
Perception: 7
Endurance: 5
Charisma: 6
Intelligence: 7
Agility: 5
Luck: 5
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
Lukas Stein was born in Rivet City to loving parents who worked in the science department of Rivet City. Lukas was brought up better than most kids in the wasteland, he received an education because his parents wanted him to carry on helping people like they did.Most of his younger years weren’t very interesting, as they were spent just studying medical procedures and medicine. During his teenage years Lukas regularly left Rivet City to search around the ruins of DC he found a discarded 9mm pistol which he kept with him throughout his journey’s out and about the DC ruins and eventually Niagara Falls. By the age of 18, Lukas was proficient in Medicine enough to the point where he could easily perform surgery given the necessary time and material.
By the time Lukas Stein was 25 he had matured enough and was on his own outside of rivet city. Lukas had a home in megaton before he eventually left heading north for something new in his life. During Lukas’s travels north he met several types of people, including slavers who he didn’t exactly dislike in a sense. After arriving in Niagara he got in touch with a group that called themselves the “New Niagara Republic” which had situated themselves near the dam. Lukas had decided to stay in the New Niagara republic as a citizen doctor for the republic. Lukas currently resides in The “NNR” territory and practices medicine within the safety of the NNR’s walls.
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?:
*Lukas approaches the surviving guard carefully, putting his hand on his 10mm*
Lukas : “What happened here, was it raiders or… something else?”
*The surviving guard looks up to him, his eyes squinting* Guard : “Yeah, we got hit pretty bad they killed her and took the supplies.”
*Lukas nods quickly*
Lukas : “We should probably get out of the open to avoid the coming storm, I think I saw a shack further down the road.”
*The guard nods*
Guard : “Right, you’ll have to carry me, not exactly in the position to walk there.”
*Lukas chuckles before going to pick up the man, carrying him to the shelter down the road*
Lukas : “Right, this should be fine, now lets take a look at that leg, eh?”
*The guard nods, observing lukas*
Guard : “Any reason why you’re helping me?”
*Lukas nods, before answering*
Lukas : “Its what I do best, I’ve been helping people for a while now.”
*The guard simply nods as he braces himself*
Guard : “This won’t hurt, will it?”
*Lukas sighs, reaching to his medkit for some med-x, bandages and his one stimpak*
Lukas : “That’s why I’m using med-x and the stimpak, it’ll help with some of the pain and the healing process.”
*The guard doesn’t respond, instead waiting.*
Guard : “Are you sure this won’t hurt?” *Lukas nods, before injecting the med-x before the stimpak, letting them both take effect before going to bandage the mans wounds, wrapping the cloth over and around the mans leg wound.*
“I’m sure, now rest we can head to the Niagara republic by today if we wake up early enough.”
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
Born in 2250, in the city of Welland. Max only had one person, himself. He had parents just not for a long time, I'll tell you later, first comes his childhood. His childhood was not a pleasant one, he had to do a lot on his own, even with parents. His dad did most of the scavenging while max was teaching himself how to fight with the environment and how to build makeshift weapons. His mother was just sorta cared for by the two, until she couldn't handle waiting for one of them to come back with little food so she ate a dead animal instead. This didn't kill her, just made her very sick and we didn't have supplies to help her but max's dad insisted on helping her. Max abandoned them when he went out to scavenge for food one day, thinking he could do better on his own instead of helping someone about to die.
Max, at the age of 27, was doing better than he was before. He was already on his way to a new city, always have wanted to see the falls. Though over the years of being alone and only using makeshift melee weapons he's probably one of the worst shots in the wasteland as well as having no social interaction he doesn't really know how to talk to people correctly anymore. Max was a independent sort of man, always on his own he does everything on his own. Max could be a man with no morals having never been taught what is right and what is wrong with no one around. Max does continue making his way to the falls, alone, maybe it'll change when he gets there.
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x Rebar
1x bottle of dirty water
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?:
Max: *Walks up to the guard*
Guard: He-hey man, you gotta help me!
Max: I, uh...don't know
Guard: What? Don't know what? Just give me a stimpack or something!
Max: I only have, um...one
Guard: Then give it to me! I ain't ready to die yet!
Max: But I, uh...*slowly starts backing away* Just stay there or something
Guard: Where are you going? I'm dying here and you have a stimpack!
Max: I'll just be going then
Guard: Get back here and give me the stimpack or I'll put one in your head
Max: *Shaking his head, keeps backing up*
Guard: Last chance or you'll end up like the others
Max: You don't have ammo *still backing up, points at the empty shell casings*
Guard: Fine! Just know you let someone die slowly today, you'll regret this moment for the rest of your life!
Max: Probably...*walks off towards the shed down the road*
A decent application. Grammar could be improved, and the large amount of past bans is a bit concerning. You also mention that he learned to create makeshift weapons in his childhood, so I'm assuming 'childhood' covers his teenage years as well? Other than that, I think the application is good enough for you to be...
Great application. However, it's missing a screenshot of your character's skin. If possible, you should send a picture to a staff member through either forum PMs or Skype. Otherwise, you're...
(Your questions will be answered through Skype by a staff member and the faction leader.)
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): N/A
Time Zone: USA east coast time.
Prior Bans and reasons: N/A
Define Role-play: Using a character to interact with other characters, in order to build and play out a story that is custom built, and revolves around the player base.
Define Power gaming: Playing for power, instead to enjoy the game. Attempting to grind, and slave away to earn power, which severely ruins the power balance, and ruins other players experience.
Define Meta gaming: Using OOC information IC.
Previous Fallout experience: Fallout: A nuclear winter, the full range of Fallout PC games, as well as a few rather poorly made Fallout RP servers.
Have you read the rules?: Yup. "There is no escaping the Shadows of the Old World."
Write any further questions here: N/A
IC:
Character Name: Johnson [Normally called just 'John'] Baverson.
Age: 29
Gender: Male.
Race: Human.
Appearance: John himself looks like your everyday genetic farmer. He has a dusty, faded plaid shirt, and tan pants. As an added accessory to his pants, he has on a pair of suspenders, with small gold buckles.
His skin is a fair Caucasian and tan, accented by his borderline scruffy orange hair. He has a sick beard as well, I suppose. He has a fair muscle tone.
Strengths: Engineering, mathematics, weapon-smithing, coding, utilizing a firearm, and scavenging.
Weaknesses: Morally challenging situations, gardening, endurance taxing situations, and quick thinking, not to mention long bouts of running.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. (Like in the games, you have 40 points to allocate. You must have at least one point in each, and cannot have more than ten.):
Strength: 6
Perception: 5
Endurance: 5
Charisma: 4
Intelligence: 8
Agility: 4
Luck: 8
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
Johnson Baverson was born on the side of the road, amidst a cloud of swirling orange dust.
He was the son of an aspiring caravan company of two. There was no time to stop for a clinic, so a roadside birth needed to suffice. His parent's ran a smooth albeit small operation. They roamed around the Niagara area with their Brahmin drawn covered wagon, selling the crude weapons that they worked together to create. His mother was the caravan's owner, on paper anyway, and was usually in charge of entering the small settlements they crossed to sell a new bit of merchandise. John's father was the producer in this deal. You see, John's Father's, father, was from the east. Grandpa John was allegedly from some vault, and had worked as a gunsmith. The skill was passed down from father to son, and would soon be given to John.
That's old history, of course.
John himself led a normal childhood. Actually, though, he was uncannily lucky. If his mother brought him with her when trading, she would always make some sort of pleasant deal that made a surplus of caps. she dubbed him her 'Good luck charm', although seldom made a habit of the practice. He gobbled down snack cakes, and sparingly sipped the occasional bottle of nuka-cola that his mother would bring back as a surprise from a settlement. He was charged with tending to the two Brahmin that pulled the ware-laden wagon. Each morning, he would wake, up, get dressed, and go along the outskirts of the caravan trail to scrounge for some grass to supplement the Brahmins grain. He'd sand down their horns, tend to their hooves, and use an old brush to tidy their matted fur.
He got so good at this chore, in fact, that hsi father would sometimes joke that he should be a Brahmin rancher.
John enjoyed tending to the cattle, but soon he was given a new task. He had only seen his fathers work in small bits. Most of it was though when they stopped to trade, or in the dwindling hours otf the day. It was fascinating to hear the sounds of wood being sawed down, and the solid 'Clang!' of a hammer hitting metal.
His father brought him into the back of the covered wagon, and simply began to train him.
The years marched on for John. He learned how to properly forge all of the metal parts for a wide varity of firearms. He was reprimanded constantly for not taking the correct measurements on a gun barrel, and wasting resources. Soon, he was packing together brass bullet casings, powder, and the bullet, into one gleaming round. He would spend hours each day doing this. John's father was quite pleased, as this gave him the time to work on actually making weapons to sell.
All in all, John had taken to his fathers side well. His skills only improved as he grew to the age of eighteen.
At sixteen, John's parents had some hushed discussions at the fire each night. As the darkness of the night beat down on the small encampments, John would peek out of the side flap of the wagon. His parents would always be sitting close to one another. Their silhouettes dancing puppets contrasted against the swirling orange flames of the bonfire.
"We can't send gim there, Bonnie, I've put so much work into training him to take the caravan over!" He'd hiss.
"Paul, you know as well as I do that this is a dangerous life. He's going an that's finial." She would retort.
"But-!"
"Paul, drop it."
John would roll back into the wagon, and contemplate each nights discussion. It took him a while, before he hasked what the matter was. They exchanged glances, and sat him down.
"Son." They began. "We want better for you. Not just a life on the road, but a steady home with a good lifestyle."
They continued to explain. "We've made some arrangements with a settlement we passed a while ago. A man is in there, named Peter. He's old, but smart. He's agreed to take you on as his apprentice."
"Apprentice for what?" John demanded.
"Ehm. Engineering."
"What?!"
"We'll keep working the business, while you're gone."
John was dumfounded by this turn of events. He just did not understand how his parents could pawn him off to some complete stranger. He was steamed. The caravan continued on, however, and soon it made a circle back to the settlement. He was given a small bag of his possessions, and waved off. It took him all of an afternoon, to hunt down the house he had been told to find. Once he did, he was greeted by a grouchy, 60-something year old man, with a scraggly beard. "Wadd'ya want, scab- Oh. It's you. Come i, move with purpose."
He soon learned that this man was named John as well. After a few awkward hours, John learned that this was was his... Grandfather. Grandpa John was seemingly slightly less grouchy with him around, and launched his training immediately. As he was trained, he learned that his grandfather came from some vault out east. He wouldn't specify, and John supposed that that would have to do. He learned of higher levels of mathematics, and metal working. John was given a clunky old terminal, and instructed to learn from an equally old, thick coding book. Grandpa John gave him some help and instruction, but for the most part he was on his own.
Soon John was introduced to an ancient robot-butler. He was unending taught how the many facets of a robot worked, and engaged in a special excessive. His grandfather would make some sort of problem with the robot, and John would be made to fix it. It was a challenging game, but he learned quite fast from his grandfather.
John was twenty one by the time this training tapered off, but he was far from done. His parents had come to visit from time to time, but seldom spoke with Grandfather. This did not phase him in the least.
He was now taught a more general spectrum of engineering. He was taught how to deal with heavy, more industrial machines, as well as electronics. He spent weeks working on a single project as he advanced further and further under his grandafathers watchful, dull grey eyes.
Soon, he was twenty nine. At this age, he had mastered the all skills that could have been presented by his grandfather. Electrical engineering, materials engineering, coding, and robotics. Each skill stacked onto of the other, completing a complex web of professionalism and intelligence. Soon he was awarded a token by his grandfather. It was an old, albeit well cared for pip-boy two thousand. He was taught all about each facet of the device, and was soon wearing it proudly on his arm every day.
He was abruptly bid a swift farewell by his grandfather, who claimed that he had been taught all that could be given. He was nudged out of the ranchers front door, and left on his own.
With time, John woud continue on to explore the wastes. This would prove to be a great, and terrible challenge, that would spell out an enitrely new chapter in his life.
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?:
John would approach the wounded guard, and [As much as I hate to say this, but:] empty a bullet into his skull quickly, and efficiently. "Bah." Murmured John, wiping a few flecks of blood and gore from the front of his shirt. "Sorry buddy." John would appraise the scene, and check around the horizon for any remaining enemies. He'd move on to begin to loot the caravan for it's wares, all the while, speaking to himself in low tones. "Ah, this is so wrong. I . . .-"
As he'd sift though each corpse, he mumble. "Sorry buddy, it sucks that this happened."
Proceeding on, he'd wrap the looting up, and step back.
Surveying the scene once more, he'd proclaim a few words of peace, crisply salute, and continue on his way down the beaten trail.
[[Eh, that was rather short. I hope my application can speak more for my RP abilities.
Also, the full skill set of John:
Electrical engineering, robotics, materials engineering, and gunsmithing. I hope that's not too much for one person.]]
This application is okay. Perhaps a bit bland, but there's nothing wrong with that.
In the backstory, it mentions John's grandfather came from 'seventy one', which I assume means Vault 71? Due to it having only first opened a year prior to when the server takes place, I'm afraid it would make very little sense for his grandfather to come from there.
You also forgot to attach a picture of the character's skin to the application.
Any clue when the servers first day should be?
We still have a great amount of building to do. If we do keep up with this steady pace like we have been we should be released in no time. In the famous words of Syvs "Soon™"
Minecraftforums has been absolutely been pouring with Fallout RP servers. You all goin' mainstream?
Fallout is in our roots. It always has been. We enjoyed our previous servers that focused on Fallout quite a bit. The player base seemed to enjoy them quite a bit as well so we're going to give everyone a nice time once more.
Now, Fish. You know you have a past among the server staff that's less than reputable. If you continue to be passive aggressive and antagonistic your posts will be reported to clean up the thread.
Thank you, have nice day.
~Mr Sibs.
( The build continues, and as previously stated. "Soon" )
Whitelist Application:
OOC:
IGN: minecraftkittys
Age (Optional): 16 (17 Aug 17th)
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): Dylan Summers
Time Zone: CST
Prior Bans and reasons: Two years ago I was banned from Massivecraft for hostile attitude against community, after simply joking about stabbing a guy…. Even the guy knew it was banter and he left soon after me.
Define Role-play:
Role-play is putting yourself in a persona of another person that said person is made in the imagination of the person and you have to fully develop the person you create and carve out a personality for said person along with interacting with other people’s persona.
Define Powergaming:
Doing things and not allowing the other person to react to said things. Such as combat, player A keeps stabbing the person over and over not allowing the person to attempt to stop the attack or type out a way to do so.
Define Metagaming:
Knowing something in RP that you character never heard of using OOC reasons to know, such as one of your friends are killed and you then kill his killer for no reason, not knowing he killed your friend ICly.
Previous roleplay experience:
Fallout: Wasteland Legends, Fallout: TBD, Fallout: Wild Wastelands, and Fallout: NW.
Previous Fallout experience:
I have over 500+ hours plugged into both games and have played on a majority of Minecraft server as stated above.
Have you read the rules?:
"There is no escaping the Shadows of the Old World.", yup.
Write any further questions here:
How is your day? =3.
Will there going to be a NPC base, mostly due to I want to be a slaver and I would like more variety than the player base. NPC’s are a good way to do this?
IC:
Character Name: Calvin_Hood
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance (Please include an in-game screenshot of your skin):
Strengths: He is strong from basically being in the wasteland from childhood. He is not muscular however. He is dent with a sniper rifle from his dealings in the Empire Waste. Charismatic and uses this to mask his true self.
Weaknesses: Cannot understand good form bad. Has issues enslaving children.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. (Like in the games, you have 40 points to allocate. You must have at least one point in each, and cannot have more than ten.):
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
Calvin Hood was born to a slaving party deep in the DC area, their camp was based in the Empire Wasteland, near the town of Maltz. By the time the party returned he was just turning five. His parents were soon to leave on another ‘hunting party’, basically abandoning young Calvin. He wouldn’t see them again for eight years, to be fair, by that time he wouldn’t really care if they returned.
Throughout his very short childhood would not be much of a story. Up until he was fifteen to survive he would steal the slave’s food, not like the slavers cared, hell they loved to watch the slaves suffer. When he turned fifteen he had the option to join the Slavers. Calvin knew if he left he wouldn’t live a normal life as the slaver hub was all he knew. If he were to stay around and not work for them he would run the risks of being enslaved himself. So that year he decided to join.
For a month’s time the slavers taught him basics. He learnt to shoot a gun, apply slaver collars, and basically every other thing he should know about the trade. He picked up on it rather quickly. Even after learning all this basic knowledge he would end up being a guard for another two months’ time. This would change however, like all things.
One day one of his friends, Austin Wells, decided to ask Calvin if he wanted to do a slaving party out in DC. Excited for the chance to do something Calvin said yes. After this it was easy for the two to pull in a small group. In ten days they accumulated a group of sixteen, mostly new guards and youth looking for quick work. A majority of the group were just people who wondered into the slaver hub.
Once the party was ready and the older slavers accepted it, the group set out. The travel to DC was the easy part. They made it there with no deaths and little interaction with people. Whatever bullets that were shot was out of drunk or drug filled fun. Upon arriving the group set up a camp in an old gas station. The young men didn’t think of the tactical advantage of the palce at the time, but never the less it was there.
After about a week or two one of the slaver party’s members returned telling Calvin and Austin about a small family down the road in an old town. Seeing this as easy pickings the three made their way to the small town. Like most places people settled it seemed to be pre-war buildings. The family that they were looking for lived in an old apartment building. The group just simply walked up and began to beat at the door. Not soon after this began a shotgun shell flew through the doorway hitting the third guy clear off the balcony. As he laid there dead Austin open the door gunning the man down. Around the dead man laid a women and two kids.
Upon returning to camp the group held a small party, getting completely ****ed up by drugs and such. This happened for a couple of months until finally they gained the attention of a much bigger group.
A raider group from the area finally passed by their camp, seeing the youth as an easy kill they began to raid them. A majority of the group died, including Austin, Calvin’s best friend. They group now dwindling at four. Picked up their belongings and caravanned the slaves back home. When the returned they were paid well. Even if the loss of life was great, the group made a profit.
The three other people spoke of staying together and going for more runs but Calvin couldn’t do it. With Austin gone he had no reason other than money to do it. None of his group had any skills what so ever to help in long term travels. Calvin left deciding it would be safe to say he should stay close to home for a time, and this is where we start off. Calvin having decided to stay home for the time being and do work from the Empire Wastes. He did this for four or five years, wandering around the slaver Hub he heard about a group out in Niagara Falls. He wanted to leave this horrid place and ready for adventure he sets off… Will he make his travel and join the slavers in the region or will events get in the way, one can only wait and see.
(This is an already made character for a server I would like to import, please?)
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?:
*He would examine the scene thinking to self-* “Well this isn’t my problem” *As he presumes to simply walk away.* (This is legitly what my char would do…)
Dammit Gen stop abusing your poor OOC section! It's still sobbing in a corner! Until you know how to rightfully treat it you are... ((Sorry Gen please don't yell at me. Treat your OOC section better next time!))
OOC:
IGN: TMR_Chicken
Age (Optional): Old Enough
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): You have it
Time Zone: AST GMT/UTC 4 hours
Prior Bans and reasons: Temp ban because of stealing when it wasn't allowed because I misread a very confusing piece of text.
Define Roleplay: Taking a character up as your own and playing out how they would react and interact with their surroundings
Define Powergaming: To be Superman. To have godlike indestructible powers. Also to force people to do something without a choice when they should have a choice.
Define Metagaming: Using ooc information Ic
Previous roleplay experience: Akavir, LoTC (we all have bad days), EoM, TLA, forum based roleplay
Previous Fallout experience: Haven't played the games yet, waiting for Fallout 4
Have you read the rules?: yes, and there is no escaping the Shadows of the Old World, that is until the server gets shut down and we start the build cycle again
Write any further questions here: N/A
IC:
Character Name: SeanAntony Davenport
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Caucasin
Appearance (Please include an ingame screenshot of your skin): 6’2’’, quite muscular, wide shoulders, medium length ginger hair with a ponytail done in the back. Civilian clothes: wears an old whiteish Tshirt and an old, black bikers jacket along with raggedy jeans.
Strengths: Good with words, can talk his way out of most situations, has decent amount of strength and is quite smart, knowing a bit about electronics, though not enough to do much more that make a quick repair job.
Weaknesses: Is hot headed, lacks a firm sense of morality, isn't really flexible in planning
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. (Like in the games, you have 40 points to allocate. You must have at least one point in each, and cannot have more than ten.):
Strength :5
Perception:5
Endurance: 5
Charisma: 9
Intelligence: 7
Agility:4
Luck:5
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
-(Exert from correspondence between Senior Paladin Henry Johnson and Elder Katherine Kubrick)-
The next section is in regards to the recent suggestion to give one Knight SeanAntony Davenport the rank of Knight Commander. The soldier has gone under inspection as per protocol, and the details of his inspection are within.
Parentage: His father, one Alan Sheppard Davenport, had an interesting relationship with the Brotherhood in that unlike most wastelanders, he would actively seek out technology only to give it to us without question, stating it had been his full intention to do so in the first place. It was later discovered that he had an interest in one of our Knights at the time, one Helen Watterson, who also shared the man's feelings. Eventually, the man was allowed to join the Brotherhood, and proved to be quite the asset in that most of the wastelanders had a certain fondness for him, allowing the retrieval of technologies much less bloody. Alan and Helen were eventually married as a joint celebration with Alan acquiring the rank of Knight, while Helen had already achieved the rank of Paladin. Helen fell pregnant within the next two months, and was transferred to less active assignments within the confines of the base due to the fact she had been found unable to perform her duties as a Paladin quite as efficiently. Her birthing was an easy one, and no deformities or sicknesses were detected. After a rest period, she returned to her duties as Paladin with relative ease.
Helen currently is stationed in upper Pennsylvania as a Senior Paladin. Alan's location is unknown because of his desertion and joining the Outcast when he was a Knight on route with one of our shipments to the Capital Wastes. These events occurred after SeanAntony became a Knight.
Personal Record: SeanAntony had certain peculiarities that had been noted ever since he had the ability to speak. It seemed he always had the ability to talk his way in and out of situations. At the age of nine, he convinced one of the Knights who had been doing target practice to allow him to practice with the weapon. SeanAntony, surprisingly, was able to hit the target, though only half of the beam hit the outer most ring on the target, which was rare for someone with no experience with weapons. SeanAntony was accepted as a Initiate at the age of eighteen, though in technicalities he had been training off and on since the previously mentioned interaction. This training allowed him to pass his first marksmanship test with relative ease, though it barely gave him an advantage anywhere else. He obtained the rank of Knight on his twenty-third birthday, only delayed at his mother and father's behest. SeanAntony quickly learned how to operate Power Armor with relative ease within the first month of training. He has continued to improve in skill and over all battle capabilities, though he is not quite as mobile as other Knights in his training bracket.
Assessment: SeanAntony is quite distinguished in most every area in regards to his usual training, but there is one obstacle I can see that might prove a difficulty for SeanAntony. Though he has talent in fighting and tactics, and has excellent leadership qualities, he has the problem that he has his father's disposition, and not towards rebelling. His moral compass doesn't seem to exist, and so he may double back and second guess choice, which might prove to be his downfall. He may believe an action is the most righteous, or at least the less evil, and the next moment refer to that same action as diabolical. As such, I believe that SeanAntony requires some more time, and perhaps new surroundings to move forward in his path to becoming a better member of the Brotherhood. Thus, it is my suggestion to not give SeanAntony the rank of Paladin, but to transfer him to a new location. I have received reports that the Niagara Chapter may be in need of certain supplies and some more soldiers. Perhaps SeanAntony should be relocated to that position?
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt. Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Halfused first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?:
SeanAntony* sees the scene and shrugs, walking up towards the scene.
Merchant: H-Help me! Please!
SeanAntony* walks past, ignoring the man, heading straight for the box of supplies
Merchant: You can have whatever you want, just help me!
SeanAntony: That would be a deal, but you have no ability to stop me, so the real deal in this case is to take my prize.
Guard: Hey buddy! *draws gun and points it at SeanAntony with shaky aim.
SeanAntony* turns fully to look at the man."Hey, look buddy, why shoot me, I didn't even touch you." *tosses a stimpak to the Merchant and a mentat to the Guard.
Merchant* grabs the the stimpak and injects it into himself
Guard* takes the mentat
SeanAntony* takes Le junk and walks off
Hello TMR, glad to see you have taken interest in the server, however, there are a few things I would like to point out here and there, sadly, this means you are denied for now until these issues are either clarified or fixed up, now let us begin!
- SeanAntony, is an interesting seeming name, is Antony supposed to be a middle name? It just seems, very odd of a first name.
- It slightly concerns me that your character, with no experience, at nine years old, was a good shot with a gun, even pointing out that this was 'rare', it kind of makes it feel as though a bit of a 'prodigy' like character, or just had dumb luck who knows.
- Make sure that the BoS faction leader allows this as passable as well, ESPECIALLY, the power armor training part.
- There is, a bit of a contradiction in your application as well. In the weaknesses section you mentioned a lack of flexibility in planning, however, in your backstory you 180 that and say his down fall is double backing and second guessing.
- In the RP example the merchant is dead, so unless you can talk to the dead the merchant would not have been begging for help.
So, until these are clarified and or fixed:
OOC:
IGN: IGotzQuezo
Age (Optional): 16
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): IGotzCheeze
Time Zone: CST
Prior Bans and reasons:Minor one or 2 from 2 years ago for griefing. I was younger.
Define Role-play: Acting as someone you arent for fun!
Define Powergaming: Being way too overpowered and invincible.
Define Metagaming: Making your character know things they wouldnt have any idea of knowing otherwise.
Previous roleplay experience: Lots. Been on a lot of rp servers, most mideval.
Previous Fallout experience: Currently playing Fallout 3 for the first time. Pretty much the only fallout ive ever played.
Have you read the rules?: Yes I have
Write any further questions here: Not really.
IC:
Character Name: Steviana Lonna
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Race: Caucasian
Appearance (Please include an in-game screenshot of your skin): http://imgur.com/6Sl3lLI
Strengths: Good at running. Likes to practice her shooting. Can throw a good punch if need be. Pretty good at making plans. A pretty good hunter.
Weaknesses: Easily distracted, Can get ahead of herself. Tends to overthink things.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. (Like in the games, you have 40 points to allocate. You must have at least one point in each, and cannot have more than ten.):
Strength:10
Perception:4
Endurance:2
Charisma:8
Intelligence:10
Agility:1
Luck:5
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
Ever since she was born, Stevi was always bossed around. When she was younger she was worked for how incredible strong she was. In school she was always forced to give people answers when they asked, most of the time unwillingly. Even when Her family left vault 83, She was bossed around.
After wandering the wastelands however, her parents soon died to a mirelurk attack, and she was free to not only be herself. But to boss people around as revenge for all those who bossed her around. People she considered kind would maybe get a gift or two from her. She liberated slaves who did not deserve to be there. All the while occasionally collecting bad souls to do things for her, who all in little time died.
Now she walks through the wastelands, in search for innocent souls to liberate, and Bad souls to imprison untill death.
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?: I Decide to Give the living guard the bottle of water and inject the stimpak into his leg. I help him up and begin to look for shelter from the storm.
OOC:
IGN: Impysh
Age (Optional):
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): I'll give that out if/when accepted
Time Zone: MST - (Mountain Standard Time)
Prior Bans and reasons: im clean m8
Define Role-play: In my words, it's like... taking a character (from something or one you made) and becoming them? Like.. living in their world, seeing through their eyes, walking hundreds of miles in their shoes. That probably only makes some sense.
Define Powergaming: *throws knife and hits ____ right in the eye* would be an example. It's like forcing someone to do something in an RP, or making it so you arent killable and/or can kill anyone with a direct shot. You have to give them option, for say: *____ attempts to throw the knife at ____, but the throw was off, possibly making ____ miss. *
Define Metagaming: Let's say someone said that theres some **** going down in ____ location, and you immediately head there without any IC knowledge of whats going on. It's using OOC knowledge to affect IC things that your character wouldn't know anything about.
Previous roleplay experience: it's been a while since i've done anything on here, and that was with a different account anyway, but to put it simply: a lot.
Previous Fallout experience: I have played through Fallout 3 twice, Fallout NV and it's DLC... 4 times? And I tried Fallout 1-2/Tactics etc. and I'm just not one for the turn based style of it all, but I have done plenty of research on the lore and whatnot. Let's just say I obsess over Fallout. One of my favorite games, yo.
Have you read the rules?: Yea man. Theres no escaping the shadows of the Old World, eh?
Write any further questions here:
Other: i'd say ignore all the posts ive previously made, because I look at those and cringe. that really isn't how i am anymore.
IC:
Character Name: Rosemary 'Ross' Warner
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Race: Caucasian
Appearance (Please include an in-game screenshot of your skin): http://prntscr.com/8223eh (Not ingame, but.)
Strengths: Sharpshooter, okay talker, good strategist.
Weaknesses: Can't throw a punch, bad with computers/robots, hard to work with, ignores her own strategies when angry.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L:
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
Born into a family of wealthy 'Human Marketers' - or in more common terms, slavers- Rosemary Warner was taught the ways of the slaver early on in her life. The organization, although not only people with direct blood relations, was called The Family. Rosemary had always felt sympathy for the slaves, but she would never turn on her own business. Her first slave capture was at the age of 8, when her small size allowed her to hide in a nearby Wastelander camp. She hid till night, and over the night she collared the leader, and brought him back to their home. This started her rise through the ranks of her own family business. At 16, she herself was captured by a rival group of slavers, but her knowledge of the tech used allowed her to escape, but not before teaching them a lesson. The encampment was left with seven dead bodies, and all their slaves were moved to The Family's slave group.
In 2275, when Rosemary was 19 years old, The Family had received a letter from a man named Chavez Walter in Niagara. Supposedly, he was from another slave group with an undisclosed name. Rosemary, her brothers, and her parents all went, as the letter asked. They had a high suspicion that they were being led into a trap, and so they were. The guards they brought along were shot in the head as they entered the gates of the compound. Approximately 14 men came out from multiple entrances, surrounding the group and keeping them still with threats of a bullet to the head.
As to be guessed, it all went wrong. Rosemary and her brother, Tom, were the only survivors, as they didn't try to put up a fight. As she looked at the bodies of her own family, she felt no guilt. To her, they were only tools to teach her how to live and survive. The men let them free, as the Family was already destroyed. And there and then, the Family was disbanded.
Now with nowhere else to go, Rosemary stayed in Niagara, taking up the name of Ross as a slight play on her own name. She had heard of another slave group here in Niagara, so here was her chance to find it. That was her only goal as of now, to find a place where her skills could be used.
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?:
Upon witnessing the scene, the only logical option for Ross was to salvage. She immediately began searching the wreckage, ignoring the moaning of the man with the shot off leg. He was yelling at her to stop, to help him, to try to help him to a doctor. She ignored his cries, finding nothing in the cases of discarded loot. Nothing but empty Nuka Cola bottles and a couple caps. She moved over to the man, watching him as he painfully tried to pull himself up. She contemplated trying to take him along with her, but decided it wasn't worth it. She loaded a bullet into the chamber of her pistol, and shot him in the temple. He died immediately, without another sound. There was no way she would waste supplies on a man who couldn't be saved. She then took any supplies he had left on him, and found shelter under a highway overpass.
OOC:
IGN: TMR_Chicken
Age (Optional): Old Enough
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): You have it
Time Zone: AST GMT/UTC 4 hours
Prior Bans and reasons: Temp ban because of stealing when it wasn't allowed because I misread a very confusing piece of text.
Define Roleplay: Taking a character up as your own and playing out how they would react and interact with their surroundings
Define Powergaming: To be Superman. To have godlike indestructible
powers. Also to force people to do something without a choice when they
should have a choice.
Define Metagaming: Using ooc information Ic
Previous roleplay experience: Akavir, LoTC (we all have bad days), EoM, TLA, forum based roleplay
Previous Fallout experience: Haven't played the games yet, waiting for Fallout 4
Have you read the rules?: yes, and there is no escaping the Shadows
of the Old World, that is until the server gets shut down and we start
the build cycle again
Write any further questions here: N/A
IC:
Character Name: Sean Antony Davenport
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Caucasin
Appearance (Please include an ingame screenshot of your skin): 6’2’’,
quite muscular, wide shoulders, medium length ginger hair with a
ponytail done in the back. Civilian clothes: wears an old whiteish
Tshirt and an old, black bikers jacket along with raggedy jeans.
Strengths: Good with words, can talk his way out of most situations,
has decent amount of strength and is quite smart, knowing a bit about
electronics, though not enough to do much more that make a quick repair
job.
Weaknesses: Is hot headed, lacks a firm sense of morality, isn't really flexible in planning in concerns to the suggestions others provide, occasionally has problems with his lack of morality when executing his plans (wandering if what he is doing is actually good or not)
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. (Like in the games, you have 40 points to allocate.
You must have at least one point in each, and cannot have more than
ten.):
Strength :5
Perception:5
Endurance: 5
Charisma: 9
Intelligence: 7
Agility:4
Luck:5
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
-(Exert from correspondence between Senior Paladin Henry Johnson and Elder Katherine Kubrick)-
The next section is in regards to the recent suggestion to give one
Knight Sean Antony Davenport the rank of Knight Commander. The soldier
has gone under inspection as per protocol, and the details of his
inspection are within.
Parentage: His father, one Alan Sheppard Davenport, had an interesting
relationship with the Brotherhood in that unlike most wastelanders, he
would actively seek out technology only to give it to us without
question, stating it had been his full intention to do so in the first
place. It was later discovered that he had an interest in one of our
Knights at the time, one Helen Watterson, who also shared the man's
feelings. Eventually, the man was allowed to join the Brotherhood, and
proved to be quite the asset in that most of the wastelanders had a
certain fondness for him, allowing the retrieval of technologies much
less bloody. Alan and Helen were eventually married as a joint
celebration with Alan acquiring the rank of Knight, while Helen had
already achieved the rank of Paladin. Helen fell pregnant within the
next two months, and was transferred to less active assignments within
the confines of the base due to the fact she had been found unable to
perform her duties as a Paladin quite as efficiently. Her birthing was
an easy one, and no deformities or sicknesses were detected. After a
rest period, she returned to her duties as Paladin with relative ease.
Helen currently is stationed in upper Pennsylvania as a Senior Paladin.
Alan's location is unknown because of his desertion and joining the
Outcast when he was a Knight on route with one of our shipments to the
Capital Wastes. These events occurred after Sean became a Knight.
Personal Record: Sean had certain peculiarities that had been
noted ever since he had the ability to speak. It seemed he always had
the ability to talk his way in and out of situations. At the age of
nine, he convinced one of the Knights who had been doing target practice
to allow him to practice with the weapon. Sean, surprisingly, was
able to hit the target, though only half of the beam hit the outer most
ring on the target, which was rare for someone with no experience with
weapons. Sean was accepted as a Initiate at the age of eighteen,
though in technicalities he had been training off and on since the
previously mentioned interaction. This training allowed him to pass his
first marksmanship test with relative ease, though it barely gave him an
advantage anywhere else. He obtained the rank of Knight on his
twenty-third birthday, only delayed at his mother and father's behest.
Sean quickly learned how to operate Power Armor with relative ease
within the first month of training. He has continued to improve in
skill and over all battle capabilities, though he is not quite as mobile
as other Knights in his training bracket.
Assessment: Sean is quite distinguished in most every area in
regards to his usual training, but there is one obstacle I can see that
might prove a difficulty for Sean. Though he has talent in
fighting and tactics, and has excellent leadership qualities, he has the
problem that he has his father's disposition, and not towards
rebelling. His moral compass doesn't seem to exist, and so he may double
back and second guess choice, which might prove to be his downfall. He
may believe an action is the most righteous, or at least the less evil,
and the next moment refer to that same action as diabolical. As such, I
believe that Sean requires some more time, and perhaps new
surroundings to move forward in his path to becoming a better member of
the Brotherhood. Thus, it is my suggestion to not give Sean the
rank of Paladin, but to transfer him to a new location. I have received
reports that the Niagara Chapter may be in need of certain supplies and
some more soldiers. Perhaps Sean should be relocated to that
position?
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large
black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large
thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin
to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the
radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming
from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before
approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a
list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a
Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant
lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers
his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two
guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her
caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is
struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels,
his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a
bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt. Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Halfused first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?:
Sean* walks up on the scene and shrugs, making a beeline towards the bow of supplies
Guard "Hey, man, can I get some help!"
Sean* Ignore the man and grabs the junk
Guard "H-hey, stop it, don't take that?" *pull out his gun, aiming it shakily towards Sean
Sean* turns to the man "Oiy, I was looking fer sumtin tah give yeh, but yeh t'aint got nutin that could help yeh. Ere, av tis." *tosses a mentant towards the guard and wlaks away before something else happens
Guard* takes the mentant
(the BoS commander was contacted and has no problems by what he says)
OOC:
IGN: elku (formerly nickhappyMK2 : ^ ) )
Age (Optional): 17
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): matthewdollbeef
Time Zone: Mountain Time
Prior Bans and reasons: i don't think so mister
Define Role-play: It's performing a certain role, speaking and acting as your character would, to achieve a certain goal; storytelling!
Define Powergaming: Powergaming, very simply, is forcing actions upon another player to achieve one's own progress, without consideration of the other's. An example could be *stabs through the head, instantly ending the man's life.*
Define Metagaming: Using OOC info to your advantage, or something your character wouldn't know, and applying it to achieve a goal.
Previous roleplay experience: Lord of the Craft, Fallout 3 RP, Wild Wastelands 2, Skyrim RP, and probably some others I don't remember. (desolate roads)
Previous Fallout experience: Fallout 3, Fallout NV, and various different lore readings.
Have you read the rules?: Mmmmm yeas. There is no escaping the Shadows of the Old World.
Write any further questions here: Only one. I'm hoping that I'm accepted into BoS as my character's background, and am currently unsure if items are able to still be requested. However, if they are I'd request a holotag, symbolizing Benedict's accordance to the BoS.
IC:
Character Name: Benedict Pierce
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance (Please include an in-game screenshot of your skin): https://gyazo.com/406ada0a6804f5b2b23fe4f68a032380 (Without hood.)
https://gyazo.com/012ad766c79952372adc916ac287eaad (With Recon Hood.)
Strengths: Rather good scout, pretty sneaky beaky man. Specializes with little guns, i.e. assault rifles, hunting rifles, sidearms etc etc. Rather smart medicine wise, and a sliver tongue.
Weaknesses: His relaxed personality is a pretty big flaw, sometimes not seeing the actual problem with a situation, and sometimes finding himself in narrow situations with superiors. He can be easily persuaded and influenced, despite being a silver tongue himself. Physically, he is not the strongest around, only boasting a tiny bit of developed muscle.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. (Like in the games, you have 40 points to allocate. You must have at least one point in each, and cannot have more than ten.):
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs): Benedict Pierce was, and is, what continues to be a rather strange man. Born 15 miles east of the island of Manhattan in the year 2258 to George Pierce and Milly O'Donnel. At the time, George was a Knight in the Brotherhood, and Milly, a normal wastelander. Under the circumstances, and his probable banishment from the Brotherhood, George had not stayed around for the birth of his child with an outsider woman. He did however, happen to swoop by just in time to pick the child from his mother, the both of them screaming. The young Benedict Pierce, screaming bloody murder, was taken away from his mother. George returned to the Manhattan section of the New York chapter of the Brotherhood with the now calm Benedict Pierce. It would be a long, unforgiving road for Benedict in the years to come.
Benedict was made into a squire, spending his younger days scrubbing toilets, cleaning the Paladin's boots of waste, and cleaning, greasing, and treating of their weaponry. The only comfort he was to find, was at the end of the long days, when he was allowed sleep, though only a few hours worth. He would remain as a squire for the years to come, being picked on, and even ridiculed at times by the senior members. His father had all but abandoned him, as he had been summoned to the farther reaches of the south, in the bogs of Louisiana. Occasionally, he would receive letters from him, only one in a year however.
One fateful day however, things began to turn for Benedict, when he turned the age of thirteen. On a day when there was no work to be done, he was approached by the leader of the Manhattan section, and was told he was to finally become an Initiate of the Brotherhood of Steel. Suddenly, he had found himself in a small set of modified recon armor to fit his smaller body, on a tiny metal sheet platform, looking down the iron sights of a 9mm sidearm, the weapon pointed down range at a target's heart. He had squeezed on the trigger with his tiny fingers, and-! The bullet travelled down range, sending a rather loud ringing noise through his ears, as he looked at where he had fired. The bullet's hole that was created was found 4 inches away from the heart, on the arm. His Paladin in charge of instructing him pinched the bridge of his nose, and shook his head at the sorry attempt. This would be the first of many shots performed by Benedict, his aim getting better and better with each and every passing day. He trained continuously, each and every day for the next six years, until he was given his first assignment.
Yet another fateful day, when Benedict had mastered his aim with light weaponry, and stabbed at every hay target humanly imaginable, Benedict was told that it was time for him to start his own journey, with a few other of his Initiate comrades. At the age of 19, it was his day to finally set out. The night before, he had set out his bag, packed with foods and baked goods from a senior member. They were to travel to Niagara Falls, to assist the less than numerous Niagara Falls division of the New York chapter. Benedict tied his famed bandana that he had received from his father in one of his letters, as the rest of the Initiates packed their bags, ammunitions, and cleaned their rifles. Benedict slung his bag over his shoulder, and set off into the dawn of a rather bright, and as hopeful as the wasteland may get, morning.
Starting out, the hopeful band of Initiates made their way toward Niagara, running into resistance from raiders, slavers, and mutated creatures of the wastes. However, the proud Initiates traversed onward, taking casualties. However, their pride would begin to tarnish, as slowly, one by one the Initiates thinned in numbers. Their original starting number, seven, had been thinned down to two. Of the original five, one had been picked off by a lone sniper on a rooftop, another two killed by a bottle cap mine, another having his life ended by a Yao Guai, and another being squashed by falling debris when clearing a building. All that remained, were the Initiate Benedict, and the young Squire Maxton. Benedict looked over the young Squire with a less than hopeful look, as they continued onward, less than their formerly proud selves. At current time, they had been in Buffalo, only 19 miles remained to the Niagara division of the Brotherhood. While traveling through a rather thick section of brush and tree, Maxton found a bear trap clamping down upon his leg. Benedict reacted quickly, rushing over to his side after hearing the sound of his pain. He looked his wounds over, and dressed them as best as possible; though it was to no avail, as the young Squire had already lost too much blood. Benedict picked up the body of the lifeless thirteen year old, with a look of grimace plastered upon his lips. He set him down upon a tall rock on a hill, looking over the wood and forests. Benedict continued onward, through the wood and brush, with an odd, cheery grin on his face. Rather strange, one might describe it as. Benedict continued on, to the now, almost stormy looking sky. Soft thunder claps could be heard oft in the distance. ((If more is needed, I can continue on, but it seems kind of pointless to do so, as it just loops to the RP example upcoming. Up until this point at his journey, he just had practiced around at base in the New York section until age 19, where he started the journey as described.))
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?: Benedict, who had been wearied, and tired from traveling miles upon miles in a single day, looked upon the sorry mess of the caravan, a few hundred yards away. His eyes could be seen quickly darting around, as he looked around for anyone else who may be around. He nods firmly to himself once, as he stands up from his crouched position, as he rather casually strolls over to the caravan's heap, with a slight pursing of his lips as he arrives. He takes a sip of the water inside of his bag, setting it back inside when finished. His head tilts to the side ever so slightly, as he looks over the first guard, then at his blown off leg. "My, my, /my/ sir, what on earth happened to you? That shirt? With those shoes?" The guard responds to him, only in screams of pain and misfortune. "N- no, p- ple- please.. !" He manages to groan out, though Benedict remains with an unchanging, bored look as his expression. "Doooooon't care." His hand reaches down to his side, and pulls up on the 10mm's sliding handle, cocking the gun back as a soft click-click can be heard. The sidearm is aimed at the man's most likely fearful looking face, as he squeezes on the trigger, the bullet traveling swiftly toward his skull. He blows on the gun's smoke which is produced from the firing, as he quotes; "And keep the change, ya' filthy animal." And with that, he quickly cascades to the floor, picking up a kneeled position, as his hand gently strokes the face of the now very much dead guard. "It's okay. It'll allllll be better. Don't you worry about just a thing." He speaks with a hopeful voice, and rather ironically cheery, despite the situation at hand. He rises up from the ground once more, now looking over to the thunderheads rapidly approaching. "Oooo, lovely." His feet find themselves making their way over to the second dead guard. He says nothing, as he picks up her shotgun with a rather hardened face, pulling back on the gauge to see if anything is in the slot. After finding nothing, he groans a tiny bit. "Bah." His legs traverse more, this time over to the merchant. He kneels once more, as he picks up the box of materials that had been dropped by the merchant, tucking it snuggly into his pack. He rises from the floor, and his eyes dart to the even more fast approaching storm clouds, as he breaks into a fast paced run, in the search of anywhere to avoid the drizzle that now comes down upon his recon hooded head. Finally, almost as if by miracle, he had found a small break in the highway; a cracked down bridge where he could rest for the night. He slides down the rubble on his back, ending up on the ground under the safe protection of the bridge. When under the destroyed bridge, he opens his pack, and grabs at the salisbury steak in his pouch, lawing himself to sleep in the taste of the well earned food. After a rather rough night, in the morning he picks up the radio, groggily rubbing his eyes with his closed fists. He turns it to a dial to communicate, in a rather serious tone, his words pronunciated. "This is Initiate Benedict Pierce. I am a few miles out of Niagara. The rest of my squadron has been killed. I am the only survivor. I will be in the division by mid-day. Expect me." He clicks off the radio, and continues onward to Niagara.
((There isn't a section to make a comment, and I already asked a question there, so I'm doing it here. I realize that I was, perhaps the worst BoS member on F:WW back last year, and this is my attempt to try to redeem myself and actually RP it correctly. hint hint no more grape this time around : ^ ) ))
OOC:
IGN: President_Rileu
Age (Optional): 15
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): rileydec16
Time Zone: PST
Prior Bans and reasons: N/A
Define Role-play: The act of taking control of a certain role and then acting upon it.
Define Powergaming: Kind of like I being super OP and stuff, not really giving others a chance and just being OP.
Define Metagaming: Using OOC in rp for your benefit
Previous roleplay experience: RC:Corundium, RC:The Frontier, RC: Legacy, FO:WW, SolsticeRP, RC: LOR, FO:Scorched Sands ( Alpha )
Previous Fallout experience: Played through NV and a bit of 3
Have you read the rules?: There is no escaping the Shadows of the Old World.
Write any further questions here: Why did you steal my pants on EoM?
IC:
Character Name: Lukas Stein
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance (Please include an in-game screenshot of your skin): http://imgur.com/2orZH1R.png
Strengths: Self Motivated, Determined, and Hardworking.
Weaknesses: Too helpful, lacks some social skills, and never feels comfortable until he's completed his work.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. (Like in the games, you have 40 points to allocate. You must have at least one point in each, and cannot have more than ten.):
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
Lukas Stein was born in Rivet City to loving parents who worked in the science department of Rivet City. Lukas was brought up better than most kids in the wasteland, he received an education because his parents wanted him to carry on helping people like they did.Most of his younger years weren’t very interesting, as they were spent just studying medical procedures and medicine. During his teenage years Lukas regularly left Rivet City to search around the ruins of DC he found a discarded 9mm pistol which he kept with him throughout his journey’s out and about the DC ruins and eventually Niagara Falls. By the age of 18, Lukas was proficient in Medicine enough to the point where he could easily perform surgery given the necessary time and material.
By the time Lukas Stein was 25 he had matured enough and was on his own outside of rivet city. Lukas had a home in megaton before he eventually left heading north for something new in his life. During Lukas’s travels north he met several types of people, including slavers who he didn’t exactly dislike in a sense. After arriving in Niagara he got in touch with a group that called themselves the “New Niagara Republic” which had situated themselves near the dam. Lukas had decided to stay in the New Niagara republic as a citizen doctor for the republic. Lukas currently resides in The “NNR” territory and practices medicine within the safety of the NNR’s walls.
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?:
*Lukas approaches the surviving guard carefully, putting his hand on his 10mm*
Lukas : “What happened here, was it raiders or… something else?”
*The surviving guard looks up to him, his eyes squinting*
Guard : “Yeah, we got hit pretty bad they killed her and took the supplies.”
*Lukas nods quickly*
Lukas : “We should probably get out of the open to avoid the coming storm, I think I saw a shack further down the road.”
*The guard nods*
Guard : “Right, you’ll have to carry me, not exactly in the position to walk there.”
*Lukas chuckles before going to pick up the man, carrying him to the shelter down the road*
Lukas : “Right, this should be fine, now lets take a look at that leg, eh?”
*The guard nods, observing lukas*
Guard : “Any reason why you’re helping me?”
*Lukas nods, before answering*
Lukas : “Its what I do best, I’ve been helping people for a while now.”
*The guard simply nods as he braces himself*
Guard : “This won’t hurt, will it?”
*Lukas sighs, reaching to his medkit for some med-x, bandages and his one stimpak*
Lukas : “That’s why I’m using med-x and the stimpak, it’ll help with some of the pain and the healing process.”
*The guard doesn’t respond, instead waiting.*
Guard : “Are you sure this won’t hurt?”
*Lukas nods, before injecting the med-x before the stimpak, letting them both take effect before going to bandage the mans wounds, wrapping the cloth over and around the mans leg wound.*
“I’m sure, now rest we can head to the Niagara republic by today if we wake up early enough.”
Welcome, such a wonderful app. Was a pleasure to read. Many danks.
OOC:
IGN: RenagadeMan
Age (Optional): 16
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): Renagade
Time Zone: PST
Prior Bans and reasons: 2 forums bans (Dicking around), RC: Legacy (Nodus), GreeceCraft (I blew the **** out of it)
Define Role-play: The acting out or performance of a particular role
Define Powergaming: Forcing an action onto someone and making yourself invincible
Define Metagaming: Using OOC info in RP
Previous roleplay experience: Romecraft, Legends of Rome, Wildwasteland, SS Alpha
Previous Fallout experience:Fallout 1, 2, 3, New vegas
Have you read the rules?: Probably
Write any further questions here: Does war never change?
IC:
Character Name: Max RhineHolt
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Race: Caucasian
Appearance (Please include an in-game screenshot of your skin): 6'0 186lbs, mesomorph build
Skin: https://gyazo.com/e2ddcab11693305a2e298cac951e7ac5
Strengths: Physical Strength, Resilient, Up close combat
Weaknesses: Ranged Combat, Talking or any social interaction
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. (Like in the games, you have 40 points to allocate. You must have at least one point in each, and cannot have more than ten.):
Strength: 7
Perception:6
Endurance:8
Charisma:2
Intelligence:6
Agility:6
Luck:5
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
Born in 2250, in the city of Welland. Max only had one person, himself. He had parents just not for a long time, I'll tell you later, first comes his childhood. His childhood was not a pleasant one, he had to do a lot on his own, even with parents. His dad did most of the scavenging while max was teaching himself how to fight with the environment and how to build makeshift weapons. His mother was just sorta cared for by the two, until she couldn't handle waiting for one of them to come back with little food so she ate a dead animal instead. This didn't kill her, just made her very sick and we didn't have supplies to help her but max's dad insisted on helping her. Max abandoned them when he went out to scavenge for food one day, thinking he could do better on his own instead of helping someone about to die.
Max, at the age of 27, was doing better than he was before. He was already on his way to a new city, always have wanted to see the falls. Though over the years of being alone and only using makeshift melee weapons he's probably one of the worst shots in the wasteland as well as having no social interaction he doesn't really know how to talk to people correctly anymore. Max was a independent sort of man, always on his own he does everything on his own. Max could be a man with no morals having never been taught what is right and what is wrong with no one around. Max does continue making his way to the falls, alone, maybe it'll change when he gets there.
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x Rebar
1x bottle of dirty water
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?:
Max: *Walks up to the guard*
Guard: He-hey man, you gotta help me!
Max: I, uh...don't know
Guard: What? Don't know what? Just give me a stimpack or something!
Max: I only have, um...one
Guard: Then give it to me! I ain't ready to die yet!
Max: But I, uh...*slowly starts backing away* Just stay there or something
Guard: Where are you going? I'm dying here and you have a stimpack!
Max: I'll just be going then
Guard: Get back here and give me the stimpack or I'll put one in your head
Max: *Shaking his head, keeps backing up*
Guard: Last chance or you'll end up like the others
Max: You don't have ammo *still backing up, points at the empty shell casings*
Guard: Fine! Just know you let someone die slowly today, you'll regret this moment for the rest of your life!
Max: Probably...*walks off towards the shed down the road*
There is no escaping the Shadows of the Old World
Now that your OOC section isn't a horrible mess, you're...
A decent application. Grammar could be improved, and the large amount of past bans is a bit concerning. You also mention that he learned to create makeshift weapons in his childhood, so I'm assuming 'childhood' covers his teenage years as well? Other than that, I think the application is good enough for you to be...
Great application. However, it's missing a screenshot of your character's skin. If possible, you should send a picture to a staff member through either forum PMs or Skype. Otherwise, you're...
(Your questions will be answered through Skype by a staff member and the faction leader.)
FALLOUT: SHADOWS OF OLD WORLD
OOC:
IGN: Cre8or38
Age (Optional): 16
Skype name (Optional for the group chat/faction chats): N/A
Time Zone: USA east coast time.
Prior Bans and reasons: N/A
Define Role-play: Using a character to interact with other characters, in order to build and play out a story that is custom built, and revolves around the player base.
Define Power gaming: Playing for power, instead to enjoy the game. Attempting to grind, and slave away to earn power, which severely ruins the power balance, and ruins other players experience.
Define Meta gaming: Using OOC information IC.
Previous Fallout experience: Fallout: A nuclear winter, the full range of Fallout PC games, as well as a few rather poorly made Fallout RP servers.
Have you read the rules?: Yup. "There is no escaping the Shadows of the Old World."
Write any further questions here: N/A
IC:
Character Name: Johnson [Normally called just 'John'] Baverson.
Age: 29
Gender: Male.
Race: Human.
Appearance: John himself looks like your everyday genetic farmer. He has a dusty, faded plaid shirt, and tan pants. As an added accessory to his pants, he has on a pair of suspenders, with small gold buckles.
His skin is a fair Caucasian and tan, accented by his borderline scruffy orange hair. He has a sick beard as well, I suppose. He has a fair muscle tone.
Strengths: Engineering, mathematics, weapon-smithing, coding, utilizing a firearm, and scavenging.
Weaknesses: Morally challenging situations, gardening, endurance taxing situations, and quick thinking, not to mention long bouts of running.
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. (Like in the games, you have 40 points to allocate. You must have at least one point in each, and cannot have more than ten.):
Strength: 6
Perception: 5
Endurance: 5
Charisma: 4
Intelligence: 8
Agility: 4
Luck: 8
Character Biography (Please include at least two quality paragraphs):
Johnson Baverson was born on the side of the road, amidst a cloud of swirling orange dust.
He was the son of an aspiring caravan company of two. There was no time to stop for a clinic, so a roadside birth needed to suffice. His parent's ran a smooth albeit small operation. They roamed around the Niagara area with their Brahmin drawn covered wagon, selling the crude weapons that they worked together to create. His mother was the caravan's owner, on paper anyway, and was usually in charge of entering the small settlements they crossed to sell a new bit of merchandise. John's father was the producer in this deal. You see, John's Father's, father, was from the east. Grandpa John was allegedly from some vault, and had worked as a gunsmith. The skill was passed down from father to son, and would soon be given to John.
That's old history, of course.
John himself led a normal childhood. Actually, though, he was uncannily lucky. If his mother brought him with her when trading, she would always make some sort of pleasant deal that made a surplus of caps. she dubbed him her 'Good luck charm', although seldom made a habit of the practice. He gobbled down snack cakes, and sparingly sipped the occasional bottle of nuka-cola that his mother would bring back as a surprise from a settlement. He was charged with tending to the two Brahmin that pulled the ware-laden wagon. Each morning, he would wake, up, get dressed, and go along the outskirts of the caravan trail to scrounge for some grass to supplement the Brahmins grain. He'd sand down their horns, tend to their hooves, and use an old brush to tidy their matted fur.
He got so good at this chore, in fact, that hsi father would sometimes joke that he should be a Brahmin rancher.
John enjoyed tending to the cattle, but soon he was given a new task. He had only seen his fathers work in small bits. Most of it was though when they stopped to trade, or in the dwindling hours otf the day. It was fascinating to hear the sounds of wood being sawed down, and the solid 'Clang!' of a hammer hitting metal.
His father brought him into the back of the covered wagon, and simply began to train him.
The years marched on for John. He learned how to properly forge all of the metal parts for a wide varity of firearms. He was reprimanded constantly for not taking the correct measurements on a gun barrel, and wasting resources. Soon, he was packing together brass bullet casings, powder, and the bullet, into one gleaming round. He would spend hours each day doing this. John's father was quite pleased, as this gave him the time to work on actually making weapons to sell.
All in all, John had taken to his fathers side well. His skills only improved as he grew to the age of eighteen.
At sixteen, John's parents had some hushed discussions at the fire each night. As the darkness of the night beat down on the small encampments, John would peek out of the side flap of the wagon. His parents would always be sitting close to one another. Their silhouettes dancing puppets contrasted against the swirling orange flames of the bonfire.
"We can't send gim there, Bonnie, I've put so much work into training him to take the caravan over!" He'd hiss.
"Paul, you know as well as I do that this is a dangerous life. He's going an that's finial." She would retort.
"But-!"
"Paul, drop it."
John would roll back into the wagon, and contemplate each nights discussion. It took him a while, before he hasked what the matter was. They exchanged glances, and sat him down.
"Son." They began. "We want better for you. Not just a life on the road, but a steady home with a good lifestyle."
They continued to explain. "We've made some arrangements with a settlement we passed a while ago. A man is in there, named Peter. He's old, but smart. He's agreed to take you on as his apprentice."
"Apprentice for what?" John demanded.
"Ehm. Engineering."
"What?!"
"We'll keep working the business, while you're gone."
John was dumfounded by this turn of events. He just did not understand how his parents could pawn him off to some complete stranger. He was steamed. The caravan continued on, however, and soon it made a circle back to the settlement. He was given a small bag of his possessions, and waved off. It took him all of an afternoon, to hunt down the house he had been told to find. Once he did, he was greeted by a grouchy, 60-something year old man, with a scraggly beard. "Wadd'ya want, scab- Oh. It's you. Come i, move with purpose."
He soon learned that this man was named John as well. After a few awkward hours, John learned that this was was his... Grandfather. Grandpa John was seemingly slightly less grouchy with him around, and launched his training immediately. As he was trained, he learned that his grandfather came from some vault out east. He wouldn't specify, and John supposed that that would have to do. He learned of higher levels of mathematics, and metal working. John was given a clunky old terminal, and instructed to learn from an equally old, thick coding book. Grandpa John gave him some help and instruction, but for the most part he was on his own.
Soon John was introduced to an ancient robot-butler. He was unending taught how the many facets of a robot worked, and engaged in a special excessive. His grandfather would make some sort of problem with the robot, and John would be made to fix it. It was a challenging game, but he learned quite fast from his grandfather.
John was twenty one by the time this training tapered off, but he was far from done. His parents had come to visit from time to time, but seldom spoke with Grandfather. This did not phase him in the least.
He was now taught a more general spectrum of engineering. He was taught how to deal with heavy, more industrial machines, as well as electronics. He spent weeks working on a single project as he advanced further and further under his grandafathers watchful, dull grey eyes.
Soon, he was twenty nine. At this age, he had mastered the all skills that could have been presented by his grandfather. Electrical engineering, materials engineering, coding, and robotics. Each skill stacked onto of the other, completing a complex web of professionalism and intelligence. Soon he was awarded a token by his grandfather. It was an old, albeit well cared for pip-boy two thousand. He was taught all about each facet of the device, and was soon wearing it proudly on his arm every day.
He was abruptly bid a swift farewell by his grandfather, who claimed that he had been taught all that could be given. He was nudged out of the ranchers front door, and left on his own.
With time, John woud continue on to explore the wastes. This would prove to be a great, and terrible challenge, that would spell out an enitrely new chapter in his life.
Roleplay Scenario: Time: 3:18 P.M. Location: 14 miles South of Niagara
As you're walking north along a desolate highway when you spot two large black birds circling in the sky in the distance. To the east, large thunderheads loom on the horizon. Hopeful to avoid the storm, you begin to walk a bit more briskly; scanning the area to find shelter from the radioactive downpour. You observe a small light grey smoke plume coming from the median of the highway only a couple hundred meters away. Before approaching the scene, you take a quick look in your bag (below is a list of your items). As you approach the scene, you can see that it is a Merchant Caravan that has been hit, likely by raiders. The merchant lies bloody and beaten to death near a slaughtered Brahman, blood covers his clothing and a box of items is scattered near him. Of the two guards, one lies near a jersey barrier; empty shell casings from her caravan shotgun scattered around her corpse. The other guard is struggling to pull himself upright using the one of the carts wheels, his left leg had been blown off below the shin and is now nothing but a bloody mix of singed skin and asphalt.
Bag contents:
1x 10mm Pistol
4x 10mm Pistol rounds
1x bottle of dirty water
2x Mentants
1x Salisbury steak
1x Squirrel on a stick
1x small radio (functional)
1x Stimpak
1x Half-used first aid kit (missing supplies)
What do you do?:
John would approach the wounded guard, and [As much as I hate to say this, but:] empty a bullet into his skull quickly, and efficiently. "Bah." Murmured John, wiping a few flecks of blood and gore from the front of his shirt. "Sorry buddy." John would appraise the scene, and check around the horizon for any remaining enemies. He'd move on to begin to loot the caravan for it's wares, all the while, speaking to himself in low tones. "Ah, this is so wrong. I . . .-"
As he'd sift though each corpse, he mumble. "Sorry buddy, it sucks that this happened."
Proceeding on, he'd wrap the looting up, and step back.
Surveying the scene once more, he'd proclaim a few words of peace, crisply salute, and continue on his way down the beaten trail.
[[Eh, that was rather short. I hope my application can speak more for my RP abilities.
Also, the full skill set of John:
Electrical engineering, robotics, materials engineering, and gunsmithing. I hope that's not too much for one person.]]
This application is okay. Perhaps a bit bland, but there's nothing wrong with that.
In the backstory, it mentions John's grandfather came from 'seventy one', which I assume means Vault 71? Due to it having only first opened a year prior to when the server takes place, I'm afraid it would make very little sense for his grandfather to come from there.
You also forgot to attach a picture of the character's skin to the application.
Until these issues are fixed, you are...