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 PNRP, Behind the Players

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PostSubject: PNRP, Behind the Players   Sat Aug 17, 2013 10:19 pm

They say that everybody has a story, what's yours?

This thread is to let everybody know about your PNRP character's back story (or to introduce them), if they have one.

Plus, the combine caused all this shit, right? Then it stands to reason that they flooded the remaining populated areas with headcrabs, and that's why zombies. Quit treating the zombies like virus zombies when they're giant head parasite zombies. tongue 

Suggested format (Not required, but it'd make things neater.):

RP Name:
Age:
Gender:
Occupation:
Misc info:

Main Body: (Doesn't haveta be long like mine, I just wanted to make mine long and shit. Razz )




Tellis 'Tillie' Argonis
26 years old
Female
Procurement and Salvaging Expert, among other things.

At a time when steam mechanics were becoming obsolete in the presence of the newer, more powerful diesel-powered machinery that was being produced at an alarming rate, scientists had to step up their game to keep up with the Jamesons. Tillie was one of those scientists stuck with this dilemma, it was quite disheartening to say the least. Especially since her funding had been cut due to 'budget reasons', forcing her to make do with what little new tech she had along with some of the old stuff that had been cast out by her peers and pulled from the garbage as a sort of hand-me-down. Anything to save a few hundred dollars, right? Some of this stuff can get pretty expensive.

One day, when pining through the trash heaps of the refuse repository, she finds an odd device. It looked as though as if it were in perfect condition, if not a little dirty. After finding other things of use in the dump, Tillie returned home. It was humble to say the least, not able to afford real housing, she was 'allowed' to take up residence outside of the city walls with the other cast-outs; Far from the university where she worked at as a research scientist, and is only kept around because she brought results. As such, she was looked down upon as dirty and unclean by her peers. Which was ridiculous, but not entirely untrue, what with the whole garbage diving thing she does.

At her dingy little apartment made mostly out of sheet metal, salvaged boards, and hope, the gentlewoman scientist held the interesting device in her hand, examining it closely, it was circular, there were unlit lights on it, and it looked like there was an outlet for an old steam generator plug to fit into. Looking up to the light bulb in the wall socket, and listening to the faint hiss from the pipes that flowed with the water that provided electricity to this building through the main generator in the sublevels, near the ground.

The roar of the nearly ancient engine as it churned out electricity was deafening. Plus there was so much excess steam being sprayed around from unskilled maintenance it was hard to see without torch goggles. As the two glowing orbs of light bobbed around slightly while moving through the medium-sized room, the owner of the eyes pulled out a metal object and began to paw around for an unused cable.

Tillie adjusted the raggedy scarf over her face providing some protection from breathing in the hot, choking steam that filled the room before finally finding a cable that had the right jack to fit the plug. Setting it on the ground, she inserted the power supply and turned a switch on the base of the jack to activate it.

Suddenly, the device lit up in a brilliant blue light that cut through the mist and made Tillie jump back away from it, unsure of what was happening. For a few seconds, nothing was that thing, then, as suddenly as it had turned on, the blue thing on the ground made a short beeping noise before a tinny, robotic voice was heard through the static.

"Coordinates locked, transporting now."

"Huh? What's tha-?" A blinding flash of light filled the room as the device exploded, causing the generator it was attached to to short out and break down. When the steam cleared, only the ruined shell of the machine was found by the superintendent of the building, who wrote it off as attempted sabotage from those assholes in the city.

In the maelstrom of wherever Tillie was, she felt like she was falling, yet lying on every part of her body at the same time. She couldn't breathe, couldn't shout for help, couldn't do anything but watch. After what felt like hours of this, there was definitely something in front of her, some kind of yellowish circle admist all the blue.

And it was rushing right towards her. Great.

When it arrived, she didn't slam into anything as she expected, instead, she wasn't moving at all anymore, nor was she surrounded by all that blue garbage.

When she realized that was the ground in front of her, she flopped down onto it. Tillie sat up in the sand, in the shadow of a dune, in goddesses knows where, and had a feeling things were all downhill from here.


Last edited by Tellis Argonis on Thu Aug 22, 2013 1:33 am; edited 4 times in total
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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Sun Aug 18, 2013 12:38 am

nigga watt


Last edited by Tactical Bacon on Sun Feb 07, 2016 2:04 am; edited 2 times in total (Reason for editing : edit #2: cringy af)
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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Sun Aug 18, 2013 1:18 am

RP Name: Envy
Age: ???
Gender: Male
Occupation: Member of the 7 Deadly Sins
Misc. Info: Too nice for his own good.
Seemingly friendly.
Apologizes too much.
Often seen following people, hoping to find what he doesn't own.

Truly, nobody but he and the 7 Deadly Sins know his true origin.
As the bombs dropped, he watched as all he knew, all he worked so hard to obtain, crumbled before his eyes. He watched, envious, as the bombs with their overwhelming power, engulfed all he loved. His world. His life. His possessions. His friends. All taken.
He truly was jealous of the bombs. Their seemingly infinite powers. How quiet they once were, waiting, until they finally were sent to steal.
He wished to be one. He wanted to have that power.
But alas, he could not. As he strapped on his gas mask, wore his sweatshirt and flipped up his hood, he thought: I'll rebuild. I'll become powerful once more.
Jealousy is what drives him. Possessions are what fuel him. Power is what he wishes.
He is Envy.

He built a false personality. People would accept him more easily that way. Seemingly nice. He'd watch and wait. He could wait. The bombs did. Eventually, he'd have it all. Everything he'd lost and more.

He wished for his lost friends. He envied those who had them.
And so, he found one.
One with insatiable rage.
One who only wished to kill.
One that Envy saw could bring him closer to his goal.
A friend.
A friend with benefits.
A friend who could help him take what he wished.

And so, they became bandits. They roam the wastes, searching for something, anything to take.
Anything to quench the rage, and settle the envy.
Everything.

Others came. Joined them.
Envy and Wrath. Greed. Sloth. Pride. Gluttony. Lust.
But their story is not of Envy.
Their stories are for another day.

-----I literally thought this up on the spot, and it goes in a way where I don't have to change how I act in-game, thank god.-----

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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Sun Aug 18, 2013 6:12 am

This is disregarding the phase i went through where my character was incapable of speaking english.

RP Name: 'Tanuki'
Age: Early 30's
Gender: Female (but with an androgynous personality)
Occupation: Self-Procclaimed politician,  Mistress to slaves, Business Mogul

Misc info: 'Tanuki' in the pre-apocalypse Era belonged to a fringe-dwelling shinto cult that based itself mostly on traditionalist ideas.  Being far off from most designated hotspots of a nice afternoon nuking the cult was able to continue sustaining itself.   This was 19 years ago.

As societies tend to do in a time of need, groups of survivors reached for help and tanuki's clan was willing to help; exchanging the means of survival for labor and expertise with expertise and this is where Tanuki developed her mindset to a relationship between a master and mentor being sacred.  As an area of relative peace, Tanuki spent most of her time being taught the ins and outs of most expertise that the wastelander outsiders had to offer, while the common societal problems such as theft, murder and violence tend to be taken care of by the wastelanders and scavengers.    This was 14 years ago.

She became obsessive with the expertise that the engineers  and scientists had to offer, as well as the idea of currency.  This eventually made her crowd of choice the wastelanders and scavengers who always seemed to need and want more and more of everything that she had to offer and along with the services she offered, came more and more sundries that began to pile up around her.  This was 9 years ago.

Nowadays she has seperated herself from her clan thought maintains her identity by simply being referred to as her spirit animal, the tanuki, while investing in a number of goals.  Those being funneling her expertise into the wasteland and trying to bring a sense of peaceful society to the wasteland.

(will likely fill out more a bit later if/when i want to)
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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Sun Aug 18, 2013 1:38 pm

Dante "Demon" Anxo
Late 20's
Male
Raiders
Marksmen (If my frames will stay at or over 30) and location defense specialist

As a teenager trying to survive in the wastes he was found and taken in by New World Knights members. They taught him how to fight and he became a high-ranking officer. As time passed he and his closest friend Keyser Söze left and decided to thrive on their own.

That was years ago, which now seems like an eternity to them. They have seen the rise and fall of factions but as the Raiders they made no discriminations against any of them. "Make the poor rich and the rich dead." That's what it came down to in the end.

(On the spot writing from a horrible writer. Most likely why that was all I could come up with.)

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Last edited by :F|F: Arisen Demon on Thu Aug 22, 2013 7:39 am; edited 2 times in total (Reason for editing : Grammatical errors)
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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Sun Aug 18, 2013 10:42 pm

Name: The Geico Gecko
Age: 15
Gender: Male, British
Occupation: Insurance Representative

After the nukes hit, the Geico Gecko was worried he might have to get a new job. Luckily, Geico was smart enough to stay together, knowing that in this barren wasteland, the people would need to buy insurance even more. Things were looking up for the gecko, and more literally looking down. The radiation had grown the gecko to over 6 feet tall. Geico enlisted his services once more, and now the gecko knew, 15 minutes could save everyone 15% or more on car insurance, and he formed the league of insurance agents with Flo from Progressive, Jake from State Farm, and that black guy Dennis from the Allstate commercials. Together, they would profit on the denizens of the land, and rule with an iron banking fist.

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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Mon Aug 19, 2013 1:35 am

No 


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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Mon Aug 19, 2013 3:28 am

I'll correct it in the original post.

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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Tue Aug 20, 2013 11:34 am

Dave Mizlowski
41
Male
Automotive Repair, U.S. Army Ranger

After his family was brutally murdered when he was a boy, Dave was left with nothing. He was a punk kid on the streets of Chicago living day to day pushing drugs and performing small jobs for big shots. Dave was eventually sick of the lifestyle he was living and enrolled in the U.S. Military, where he was deployed in Vietnam. At the end of the war Dave went to college for Automotive Repair, and started a new life in the outskirts of Chicago.

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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Wed Aug 21, 2013 10:32 am

RP Name:Grant "Stormy" Grusenberg
Age:45
Gender:Male
Occupation:Security Guard
Misc info:Ex-Military
Before the wastes happened Grant was in the army, after a incident including buttered chicken rations and alot of C4 he was dishonourably discharged from the military, Finding work was hard as he couldn't get back into the groove of peaceful civilian life. After many jobs and employments he decided it was time to try a work similar to what he used to do, security work.
In his security work he was paid to guard a high-tec research facility, unknowing to him many of his security team signed up for being experimented on. For a year he was conditioned and finally they were ready to inject him with a prototype serum, its objective was to mutate the subject into a mind-controlled subject. Although the facility was broken into by a terrorist force and in the ensuing chaos he explored and stole all the prototypes and tech in spite of the researchers, He then took up a new name, his experiences making him into a new man along with the other members of his team.


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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Wed Aug 21, 2013 11:25 pm

It's hard to top buttered chicken rations and C4, but here goes....

RP Name: Keyser "Alaska" Söze
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Occupation: Raider, Hired Thief, Tinkerer
Misc. Info: Dons the name "Alaska" when wearing the life support suit.

Keyser Söze was born to impoverished parents in a Combine village on the East coast of Alaska. He was diagnosed with Restrictive Lung Disease, and was doomed to wear a portable respirator for the rest of his life. From an early age, Keyser honed his quick reflexes and ability to break into shops and steal food for him and his family. At the age of 18, the Combine took him into custody, signing him up for laboratory testing. He was to become the new super soldier. Before the experiments could begin, he broke out of his jail cell and caught a barge to Russia, where he discovered an abandoned repair shop. There he taught himself how to build, repair, and improve various mechanical things. He met a young man named Dante, and they agreed to help each other survive.

While out scavenging, they came across members of the New World Knights. Eventually, they were allowed into the NWK, later earning the rank of Templar. Years later, Keyser and Dante were unhappy with the way things were, and longed for their old life in the Wastes. They withdrew from the New World Knights and formed the Raiders. Not wanting to associate himself with the ODST's anymore, Keyser fashioned a life support suit out of a Metropolice chief's armor, and built a backpack to house the various monitoring equipment, calling himself "Alaska" as homage to his birthplace. Occasionally he will need to remove the suit for repairs, and he is forced to wear his portable respirator (although he's not fond of showing his face, so he covers it up with a bandana).

Keyser strives to give back to the poor, as he did to his family back in the Combine village. He has a personal vendetta against rich powerhouses in the Wastes, and lives out his motto: "Making the poor rich, and the rich dead."

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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Thu Aug 22, 2013 5:32 pm

'Bacon' also likes to shoot at Alaska's feet in a alternate reality, where everyone is a terrorist and there is a traitor.


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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Tue Sep 17, 2013 11:12 am

Jeff Belinger used to be a construction worker back in 2013. He was working on a non-descript construction site when a shovel dropped down on his head, rendering him unconscious. For an unknown amount of years, he remained in a coma and through some string of luck, he was kept alive during the entirety of the Combine Invasion and Nuclear Warfare that happened after the hero of humanity, Gordon Freeman, destroyed the shackles of oppression.

For some unexplained reason, Jeff woke up in a desert shack in a non-descript area of the brave new world he was now facing. Armed only with his wits and fists, he strived through the wasteland in search of answers, finding new friends and foes along the way...

But nothing is as it really is, now is it? Perhaps there is a reason behind how he managed to survived a 12 year coma. Maybe someone's playing a game beyond any of our comprehension.

"Wake up, Mister Belinger"
"A new dawn begins and your... services and skills are now... most desired"
"Wake up, and rise to the sight of a brave new world"


this is not canon to the PNRP story.

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having good rp doesnt make one fit for staff duties, especially if said people are always playing with the same small group of people and no one else. staying in an echo chamber only makes your own words reflected back to you and whoever else is in the chamber. people applying for staff need to not only know the staff, but also how the playerbase can react to interactions between itself, the general staff base and the applicant


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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Fri Oct 18, 2013 3:54 am

RP Name: Age: 23
Gender: Male
Occupation: Stealin yo chems.
Misc info:

Lets explore the life of
Lets begin the story. Nearly 350 years after 'the great shatter'.


Samuel 'Matt' Jordan, was born on November 21st, 2363. 350 years and some odd months after the shattering of civilization. He was born to a small family. Mother, Father, Pet Headcrab, and 1 sibling.

Throughout his childhood he was taught well in post war survival in the world he lived in. A world that constantlly had numbers pertruding around it saying '793'. He became quicklly focused in history and vault politics. Eventually becoming Junior Overseer for the youth development group in the vault.

He was fascinated with the world he learned of. A world he never would see. Ever. Forever to live in Vault 793. With great potential to become future overseer of the vault. For the rest of his life. And the cycle of post war civilization would continue.

However, on his 20th birthday, this lifestyle, and his future, would be changed. And his destiny was to unfold.

Ironiclly found on his birthday was the discovery of a massive pipeline leak throughout the vault. This pipe supplies purified water to the inhabitants of the vault and the crops consumed by the people. The drinking supply of the vault had been becoming radiated. People got sick, food could no longer suffice for the vault population. People were dieing left and right.

The time this took from normality to micropocolypse was mere days. Reversal of the situation? Impossibilty. As everything he knew was going to hell, he escaped the vault.

Coming to the world, he found out just what the world was, 350 (give or take) years after armaggedon, and the vault dwellers left in the dark of post nuclear civilzation. He learned quick. He needed to. Otherwise he would die.

He found a local town, and worked with the people there as a scout and a scavenger. His rewards for his efforts were meager. He was not accostomed to laborious activies. But he learned. He adapted. He changed.

Within 2 years he had become much more physiclly able. Much more capable of surviving the wasteland. Shedding his skin (and vault clothes), and becoming one with the wasteland.

On his 23rd birthday, he decided to leave the community, to walk the wasteland for a new home.
He has reached the mojave. There are people around, friend and foe. Perhaps he can rebuild a life here. Maybe he will just keep walking. Regardless..

The wandering man sets his foot on the land.

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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Fri Oct 18, 2013 11:00 am

Hate to tell you this but this isn't actually a Fallout RP server, the background lore has nothing to do with fallout and is isolated from that universe, therefor the concept of vaults doesn't really apply. You an just say it's a bunker though and the story works. I can't blame you for not knowing this, we haven't really finished a story which is sort of irresponsible on our part, but there's only so much we can do. Also we're always using that horrid map which has a vault.
We're actually going to make the story this weekend, so keep an eye out for it on the wiki.
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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Fri Oct 18, 2013 9:16 pm

+1 for more lore and story.

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having good rp doesnt make one fit for staff duties, especially if said people are always playing with the same small group of people and no one else. staying in an echo chamber only makes your own words reflected back to you and whoever else is in the chamber. people applying for staff need to not only know the staff, but also how the playerbase can react to interactions between itself, the general staff base and the applicant
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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Sun Dec 15, 2013 10:45 pm

So, the back story came out. Let's all post our characters back stories here eh? If they conflict with the story's lore in someway, or was written when you were really tired (me).

RP Name: 'Bacon' (No real name, just a nickname)
Age: Probably mid-twenties.
Gender: Male.
Occupation: Current leader of the 117th.
Misc info: Seems to have some sort of experience in CQB, not much of an rifleman. Seems to be nice, avoids unfamiliar people at all costs.

Main Body: Born somewhere in the VERY late 2400's in a vast metro system connecting Sacramento to San Diego, 'Bacon' is a natural in throwing down iron (armor penetration ya know) in close range or a narrow corridor. Often experiencing fights against ghouls and zombies down in metros and hallways, he has the smarts to safely navigate twisting hallways filled with mutants. Tends to lean towards the faster firing, yet less power punching guns, due to his slim frame and low weight, but cannot carry too many things, and does not excel in hand-to-hand combat, rather relying on melee weapons to compensate for his weight.

In 2509, a caravan of people arrived at 'Bacon's home subway, telling about safe radiation levels on the surface (albeit still higher than normal radiation levels before nukes blew up the entire world), wary, 'Bacon' went to the surface with three other friends. This was waaaay before the surface was tamed by humans, they were in fact the first subway station they were told. A harsh world, with different creatures was presented in a cruel way, but things to plunder were in abundance. However, this common treasure was guarded by many new enemies. Glowing ones, as they are commonly called, seemed to be the alphas in ghoul hordes, roaming cities in areas for things to eat, ranging from the common zombie to the antlion mound. The antlions were rarely ever seen underground, and when they were, places were easily overrun by their quickness and vast numbers. On the surface, they were only a nuisance if found wandering the surface, as they are easily spotted and taken out from far distances. 'Bacon' and his friends easily came over these enemies with carefulness and short trips to the surface. However, their short range submachine guns and shotguns were proven to be nigh useless being used on the surface's harsh winds and long range engagements.

When more humans were being seen on the surface, Conglomerate units woke up from a long period of thinking that the Americas were destroyed. Dozens, upon dozens of carrying pods crashed on the surface, leaving entire surface towns ravaged and completely torn down. 'Bacon' and his friends, on a short trip to the surface to break into a old gun shop, were ambushed by a Conglomerate squad. Being out-gunned, outnumbered, and without proper training, 'Bacon' managed to get out alive, with only a graze on his leg. His friends, however, were not. One was blasted to nothingness by a squad leader's energy ball, and his other being shredded to bits by a Pulse LMG.

Returning to his subway station, he sat down and rethought his life. Instead of vowing revenge and becoming angry, he instead became extremely reclusive, only letting his brother and close friends talk to him. Several weeks after the incident on the surface, only one friend remained with him. All his other friends and brothers had moved up to the surfaces, often moving far, far away.
After realizing his situation, he got his handy-dandy, .357 carbine, .22 LR silenced pistol, concealable, carbon fiber-Kevlar helmet, gas mask and friend to move up to the surface.

By this time, the Conglomerate had slowed down the rate of troops being dropped, as it usually resulted in a single squad of Conglomerate attempting to fight off an entire horde of wastelanders or ruthless guerrilla combat. Leaving for a town of people in ghoul infested city with his friend, he established a steady life in the city, scavenging from places in it, favoring the stench of blood and dust over the sun baked road.

Until 2513 of course. This was a year of great change. More than ever have people been spotted wandering in the wasteland.
This was a year of the Golden Cross, the Deadline Circus, the New World Knights, the Trojan Republic, the Raiders, the Post-Nuke pirates, the ThunderHeads, and most importantly, the 117th Legion this man was going to join.

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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Mon Dec 16, 2013 11:35 am

I'll type as much of Riktov's backstory as I have time for and Edwards later... Got a week to do it. Anyways:
Rp Name: Commandant Riktov
Age: Mid forties
Gender: Male
Occupation: old war Commandant for hire.
Misc Info: Often thinks of the old days and drowns it out with some strong Orange Whiskey(I'm not using Bizz's Stuff cus I don't wanna get yelled at for ruinin lore or some shiet :p)
During the what seemed endless war with the United States young Riktov was put into command of a small Squad of 10 men. Before the bombs had dropped he and his "brothers" were on their way to to annihilate a US outpost about 15 miles North of Moscow, the outpost was discovered merely 3 days ago and was said to be aquiring coordinates for Major Russian cities. His squad was to reclaim the coordinates and discover anything they could about what they were doing there. At the base Riktov ordered his 2 snipers to hop onto a nearby hill and cover them while his 3 mortar men went on the opposite side ordered to drop only 3 shells then to charge. Riktov and his 5 other men then proceeded to wait for the bombing to begin. The snipers both radioed in a total of 25 guys visible. After the mortars striked there was less than 10 which the snipers picked up while they were running in. Everybody regrouped in the main tower where they found 30 different coordinates. Next to the coordinates was a timer with 35 seconds left. The men found no way to stop it so they proceeded to wait for it to go off. When the timer hit 0 is when they were no longer part of Russia, they were part of the wastes. 30 bomb went off, each placed expertly in sewers under the city destroying them within. The US did not get off scott free though. They destroyed the Russian cities but not all the missile silos they had hidden away. Russia believing everyone was against it shot 5 of their experimental warheads into each continent. These experimental warheads were unimaginable...... they destroyed everything, the blast radius wiped out countries at a time turning buildings into glowing waste. This was the world Riktov and his squad lived in, this was the wastes.... now what happened to his squad? Welll the bell just rang so i'll right it when I get home :3


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When I see this if I try to join the server, it comes as a relief to me. Relief of not being afraid of being framed for tons of shit I didn't do. Relief for not being afraid of messing up a rule. Relief for not having to deal with the admins of Frostburnt. And relief to go to a server where my shots kill stuff, people don't hate me for no reason, and where I can do whatever I want and be treated like a normal person, not a rat held under a microscope under so much pressure to not mess up.

User has been permanatly banned from these forums for the reason "Doesn't want to be here" by Bizzclaw - Honestly I should of banned you a long time ago. And you say you're tired of being treated like "A rat under a microscope"? Sorry, but you've duped, exploited and RDM'd. What did you expect?
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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Mon Dec 16, 2013 7:26 pm

Here is one for my character, I mixed the lore that bizzclaw made and mixed it with some events which happened in-game, hopefully, everything is correct in terms of dates.

RP Name: King (Wadsworth Kingsley)
Age: 135
Gender: Male
Occupation: Chieftain of the Thunderhead clan, Raider
Misc info: Loves grenades and paint chips, has a pet headcrab named Wadsworth, wears a mask due to respiratory conditions.

Born and raised in a sprawling metropolis in the nation known as the American Republic, Wadsworth Kingsley was a mohawk bearing dealer involved in a small operation which converted raw savium into a form of drug.  In the year 2408, Wadsworth heard the sirens while he was in the middle of a savium pickup and knew it was a nuclear attack.  Miles from any nuclear safety vault, he took refuge in a dark subway hoping to survive the bombardment.  After the nuclear barrage had ended, he ventured out from the subway only to find the city and surrounding lands burnt and reduced to rubble.  He soon found out that many of the humans that had survived the attack had been latched on by headcrabs and were wandering the city, killing the other survivors.  Wadsworth ventured back to the subway to escape the hordes of zombies and locked himself deep inside.  Staying alive by eating the paint chips from the walls and drinking irradiated water from dirty sinks, he gathered material from around the station and crafted make shift grenades to pass the time.  Eventually, Wadsworth had found that his skin had started to flake tremendously, his hair fell off his scalp, and he began to have trouble breathing.  Before long, the process was complete and he had become a ghoul.  He had wandered the metrostation and found a gas mask from a dead soldier, using it to construct a breathing apparatus to pump oxygen into his damaged lungs, along with it a mohawk built into the top of the helmet like the one he had before he was a ghoul.  Over the passing years, Wadsworth went mad from the paint chips and from the loneliness, forgetting his name and his past life.  He would cradle in dark corners and mutter, trying to remember his name, but the only thing he could remember was King.  
Around the year 2513, King heard a voice coming from the entrance of the metrostation.  King hesitated for he thought his mind was playing tricks on him.  He jumped up from the concrete floor, navigating his way through the corridors of the old station and reaching the main entrance which he hadn't been to for years.  King ran up to a group of men equipped heavily with guns, he weezed strangely and stared.  King hadn't seen a human for nearly a hundred years, he remained in silence but when they asked his name he sputtered 'King'.  King became friends with the people and acted as a scavenger for the group which was known as the Squires of the Waste by the leader Roland.  Eventually, King left the group, joining several other communities of survivors, including being a flagbearer for the 117th legion, before establishing his own group of bandits, the Thunderheads.  With his memory of his past dissolved, King wanders the wastes looking for a base he can raid and hopefully to find a trader who sells paint chips or grenades because grenades fix everything.

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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Tue Dec 17, 2013 11:30 am

Bacon, I'm going to use your format because 1. im lazy 2. its quick and easy. 3. it's appealing to the eye

RP Name: Jeff Belinger
Age: 22 years old
Gender: Male
Occupation: Roaming scavenger
Misc info: Jeff has a knack for acquiring ressources in rather short times, whether by scavenging or by using mechanical mining tools. Seems to have a strong penchant for chemicals, especially Savium.

Main Body: Jeff's was born and raised within a community of people who had taken refuge in abandoned mines in the region of Quebec. In his teenage years, he was taught the value of hard work and the value of his findings. His life was a routine: wake up, pick up mining tools and go out to find whatever he can, get back, eat diner, sleep, rinse and repeat. On his 19th birthday, Jeff, as usual, went out to mine to gather whatever he could. Jeff was blessed by the most miraculous of gifts: he had found an undiscovered and legendary Savium meteor. He quickly brought his family and close friends with him to start digging and extracting the precious compound. He had single-handedly made his family the wealthiest within the community. A few years later, a report from a group of surface explorators had confirmed that the surface of the earth was now breathable and not only that, but they had sighted another group of humans traveling north of the mine's main bulkhead door.

On the following years, he had kept up with the reports many of which made him fascinated about the potential wealth now up for grabs in what was now called "The Wasteland". On his 20th birthday, Jeff left the relative safety of the mines and ventured forth into the wasteland… only to be attacked by a horde of wandering ghouls. rendered unconscious and nearly dead, he was saved by a group of travelers, healed back to health, but robbed of his every possessions and left to wake up in a shack in the middle of a desert. Jeff never knew how or what happened during that time, but he took this as an opportunity and was glad he was still alive and ventured forth into the wastes… until he was caught out in a rad storm catching him off guard and with no shelter anywhere, he remained exposed to the radiations.

Eventually, the storm subsided but left Jeff with a minor genetic mutation, one which left him blind in direct sunlight, a skin condition that makes his epiderm flake off and regenerate as fast and damaged lungs. along his travels, he encountered many folks, one of whom changed his life: Wandering Wilson. This man showed the ways of the wasteland to Jeff and had served him as a night shift courier for a time until Wilson vanished and Jeff decided that he was now ready to fare into the wasteland. Traveling during night time and hiding during the day, Jeff had slowly become adjusted to a nocturnal lifestyle, until he met a man calling himself Alaska. Jeff quickly learn that Alaska could, with the help of a scientist, create a mask that could allow Jeff to see during daytime or under any light without fear of being blinded. After assisting Alaska and his friend, Jeff was finally going to be able to forge his way into the wasteland.

During his time with the Rusty Sunshine Caravan, he had encountered many groups: The 117th Legion, the Trojan Republic, transforming itself into the Monroe Republic, the Post-Nuclear Pirates and many other smaller groups. Jeff eventually met with a man calling himself King, earning his respect and gained a place amongst his raiding gang. More adept at talking himself out and into situations thanks to lessons given by Wilson, Jeff quickly managed to be known as a man of words and to be true to those. He became the second in command of the mighty Thunderheads until a certain event.

A war had broken down between the Thunderheads and a group calling himself the UNSC. Jeff had called upon an ally to help him win the war, the Rangers of the Order at the time, lead by Duncan. Together they managed to fight off the UNSC’s soldiers and managed to capture one of their leaders: Cap Coop Zimmerman. after a rather difficult and bloody attempt to a peaceful resolution, Jeff managed to make the UNSC sign their dissolution and surrender. This was not the end, however, for the supreme commander, Gunnery Sergeant Edwards, held a burning hatred of the Thunderheads, and Jeff in particular.

It was soon if the future that Edwards came back and waged another bloody war against the Thunderheads, but this time, it was a crusade against Jeff himself. As a part of the agreement, the Thunderheads and a few other communities had to welcome in the warriors of the fallen UNSC, Jeff had taken in Coop Zimmerman in order to try and train him to be what he called a Word-Smith. Jeff being out of commission, Zimmerman left to deal with Edwards, Zimmerman betrayed the Thunderheads, giving up everything they had. Once Jeff was made aware of this situation, he took great shame and banished Zimmerman out of the Thunderheads and to wander into the wasteland.

As for himself, Jeff left the Thunderheads due to his failure to King and now wanders the wastes, looking for the next day’s fortune...

here's the Gdocs file: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1rGDci_cWsdSdGy9BhcRa3NxtUsvkDQlx_2gRaWW13Mg/edit?usp=sharing

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having good rp doesnt make one fit for staff duties, especially if said people are always playing with the same small group of people and no one else. staying in an echo chamber only makes your own words reflected back to you and whoever else is in the chamber. people applying for staff need to not only know the staff, but also how the playerbase can react to interactions between itself, the general staff base and the applicant
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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Tue Dec 17, 2013 3:06 pm

RP Name:Grant "Stormy" Grusenberg
Age:47
Gender:Male
Occupation:Paragon Facility : Security Branch
Misc info:Ex-Military
Before the wastes happened Grant was in the army, after a incident including buttered chicken rations and alot of C4 he was dishonorably discharged from the military, Finding work was dificult as he became a pessimistic asshole. After many jobs and employments he decided it was time to try a work similar to what he used to do, security work.

The Omega team, "Stormy",  'Clockwork", "Sunrise", "Greyhound", and "Terraise" guarded the fifth branch of the Paragon Research Facility. They would follow the same routine, stand around with trigger-finger's at ready. But in early 2560 the "geek squad" scientist wing started to drug security teams and tested on them, the Paragon Megacorp simply watched as the security teams were tested on. Luckily though the Omega team requested a transfer before they too could get drugged.
Unfortunately a rival corporation overtook the facility and the three surviving security team's quickly went into hiding.

Years passed with the teams helping each other safe from the hazards the earth threw at them. then in mid-2577 the teams were split up when they reached a area dubbed "The Wastes" populated by rival groups such as the "Thunderheads", "UNSC", "117th Legion". and the "Monroe Republic", the three team's were split up as each team had a different goal in mind. Delta team continued to travel straight through "The Wastes", and were not seen in the area ever since. The Gamma team was wiped out by a bounty hunter party sent by the rival corporation. Omega team simply sat and dug their heels in the plentifully dusty wastes.


Soon though the team finally found a bunker, calling the place their home they settled there. Years past and the bunker gre2 in population. Li family immigrants joined from a place called the "Orient" and the Bradbury family also lived in the bunker. the bunker settlement sent out a single member of the team each year to explore the waste and relay information essential to survival.
Stormy met many people and made plenty of connections and had strings to pull if the conditions of the bunker turned south.


#crappybackstory2013hopeuhadphunreadingfgt

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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Tue Dec 17, 2013 3:10 pm

Well looks like this post is making a comeback... This is also a great chance for making a character story now that Bizzclaw released an official story of the Frostburnt Version of PostNuke RP. So here’s my story (or should I say GIANT ESSAY?).

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Title Name: Stalin's Crusader

Real Name: Ares "Stalin" Kazimir Vladinovenski

Age: 58

Gender: Male

Occupation: Member of the Red Crusaders 2nd Regime

Race: Human Cyborg

Physical & Biological Characteristics: Shaved head, brunette hair color, light blue eyes, weight of 280 lbs, height of 7 feet, superhuman, cybernetically enhanced, biologically enhanced (via mutagens), tripled life span (aged 58 with physique of a 20 year old), etc.

Birthplace: Slave City of Vilnius, Lithuania

Credit to Ioan Dumitrescu

Story: Born in Vilnius, Lithuania; Ares Vladinovenski was a slave child growing up in a society of greed and oppression. He was well protected and cared for by his Lithuanian mother and Russian father, but this relationship was short lived. His mother and father were very young at the time of his birth, both being teenage parents (Mother aged: 15) (Father aged: 17). At the age of 5 years old, Ares was assigned to work in the old "Geroves Namu Fabrikas" (The Home Welfare Factory), which was converted into a munitions assembly plant. Child labor was common, and Ares was to repair or maintain the assembly lines (a dangerous job to perform). At the age of 8, Ares' mother was taken for questioning by two unknown individuals. Ares observed that one of them had a sort of necklace portraying cross bones printed onto a piece of obsidian in the shape of a hand. They dragged Ares’ mother away for questioning. She was never to be seen again. The two men left one clue: “The Necklace”.

Ares was bent toward vengeance and fury, and he never fully recovered. His father became his sole caretaker. Ares suffered from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder ever since his mother’s disappearance. He would constantly talk to himself in his sleep and suffer from terrifying flashbacks and nightmares. Ares performed poorly in slave labor, and was often punished with solitary confinement or sometimes whip lashings for his terrible performance.

2 years later, at the age of 10, Ares partially recovered and was given the privilege of being permitted to enter the Lithuanian National Archives where he would study and educate himself. He had a young study partner named Vane (who was only 7 years old). They became best of friends and helped each other in their struggles. Ares became a sort of older brother and teacher to Vane. Ares fell in love with learning about the history of Marxism and the concept Utopianism. To him it was a supreme social idea compared to his home city of slavery, repression, and voracity. His hometown was a combination of all the negative values of capitalism and totalitarian rule. To him capitalism and oppressive totalitarianism was primitive. It was the survival of the fittest, where the weak vanquish and the strong flourish, it was the way animals lived in the wild, no cooperation. Ares believed socialism was the solution to everything the apocalypse created. Ares vowed to someday find salvation for him and his people.

At the age of 13, Ares graduated from junior high (earlier than expected), acing all exams, and becoming a full-fledged technician for the Geroves Factory. After 2 months on the job Ares injured himself after getting his hand caught in the machines. He miraculously didn’t require amputation for his broken hand, but was laid off his technician work for 6 months, and received 50 lashes and shortened food supply as a punishment for clumsiness. His friend Vane had to take over the job.

When Ares just became 14 years old, bad news struck his father. When Ares questioned him, his father told him that his friend Vane was killed by his slave master for disobedience. Ares did not reply, he began to cry, and ran outside to the old Geroves Factory. Ares, still recovering from his injured hand, murdered his slave master with his fists in front of all the workers, bashing his skull and hemorrhaging his brain. All the workers were staring at Ares in horror, and alarms soon sounded across the facility. Ares grabbed his master’s pistol & grenade, and sprinted towards home.

Upon returning home, his dad was missing, and a symbol was painted on the wall with a letter nailed to it. A Hand and Cross Bones painted in black and white was present. Ares took the letter, and suddenly heard his door being knocked on by authorities. Ares took cover behind the table. When the door was smashed open, Ares opened fire, killing all 6 soldiers, but suffered a bullet wound to the shoulder. Ares decided to run, and kept running until he bumped into a road block of infantry units and APCs. They began to open fire, but Ares managed to jump into a ditch. He took out his grenade and threw it at the roadblock. It wasn’t enough to destroy the vehicles, but it created a dust cloud that allowed Ares to run to the other side, and grab a Grenade Launcher off one of the dead soldiers. He fired it at the APCs, destroying them. Ares ran to the border of his slave town, grabbed a riot shield off one of the dead authorities, and climbed over the fence (regardless of the barbed wire and snipers trying to shoot him). Ares used the shield against the snipers and managed to get across. Upon successfully pulling off his stunt and making it out alive, Ares read the letter. The letter simply read “Serbia”, and an ink handprint was placed on it. Serbia was the country where Ares’ father once escaped as a teenaged slave, only to become a slave again in Lithuania. Ares’ father supposedly stole a Savium Artifact upon escape.

Ares, surviving in the woods, soon bumped into a group of soldiers. They were a group of communist campaigners. Instead of being attacked… Ares was welcomed by them, and he decided to join them instead of fighting them, knowing that they were enemies of the Vilnius Slavers and not to mention Ares' lust for vengeance. "The Red Crusaders" (as they're called) having heard about how he escaped such an impenetrable slave camp as a lone wolf, and at such a young age too; the soldiers were extremely impressed with Ares, but the soldiers were further awed when Ares revealed his true potential in action. He became one of them, starting as a mere child soldier only aged 15.

The Red Crusaders were a bunch of socialist radicals lead by a man known as “Stalin II” or “Stalin Reborn”. They were on a task to create an empire run by socialist ideals. Ares’ life was very secretive beyond joining the Red Crusaders. What is known is that Ares lived up to his word and managed to liberate the slave city of Vilnius, and restored it to its former glory. He conquered and crushed those that opposed him. Ares became a war hero.

The Red Crusaders soon began to fall apart due to the introduction of Conglomerate Forces into the Red War. Ares tried to take the fight to them, and managed to hold them off until being caught in a bombshell explosion. Ares had lost his left arm, his left leg, his right foot, and his intestines. He was in massively critical condition. It was once believed that he was invincible, but that was not true of course, since he had one major weakness: He takes too many risks. Through a special experimental procedure of cybernetic surgery and induced mutations, Ares the super soldier, was saved at the cost of his humanity.
     

Ares became a cyborg and a near immortal to some extent. He was gifted with a shiny black suit of Power Armor and a high tech Degeneration Hammer by Stalin II, and Ares proceeded to fight with honor for a couple of years and earned the title "Ares the God of War". His fight soon ended when Stalin II was killed by the Conglomerate Forces. The Red Crusaders still stood, but weak and divided. Ares became a mercenary and a leader of what's left over of The Red Crusaders 2.5 decades later and was soon given a different title “Stalin’s Crusader”.


Credit to Alberto Fernández

Ares became a mercenary and a bounty hunter. Some think that he gave up and betrayed his people with hypocrisy; others believed that he is merely trying to build up wealth so that someday, he’d rebuild the long lost empire of the Red Crusaders; but it is quite likely that he gave up so that he can continue his journey in finding the Black Hand, hoping his parents may still be alive after 50 years, but this is quite unlikely now. Ares now wants to enact vengeance for what they did. Whatever the case, he still had his followers, and his views of salvation.

He roams the globe to this day.


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Last edited by xxFalconArasxx on Tue Dec 17, 2013 9:27 pm; edited 29 times in total
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Alaska XCIII
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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Tue Dec 17, 2013 3:12 pm

RP Name: "Alaska" / Keyser Söze (That's Kie-zer-So-zay, because people tend to call me Keeser Sozz. -_-)
Age: Mid twenties (although really mid eighties)
Gender: Male
Occupation: Chief of the Raiders, tinkerer, mechanic
Misc info: Can barely breathe without a respirator, handy with a wrench, can substitute gun parts on the fly, spends his days building shelters and getting into trouble.

Main Body: Keyser was born in a remote village off the coast of what used to be Alaska, but is now a barren stretch of land, unused by The American Republic, due to its vast amount of tundra and ice. Some settlers had wandered far off into the Western corners of the "state" and constructed camps and small towns, away from the patrols of the Republic Guards. They wanted a new life, without fear of the dictatorial powers of Czar Becket, the angry man who lied, killed, and forced his way onto the throne during the beginning of the war. They named it New Alaska, as they had found some surviving maps and wanted to simulate as much of the Old World as possible. Life in New Alaska wasn't bad, they had plenty of unused Savvium lying around, and plenty of oil to burn in their lamps. Even though they had access to technology, they only used it when necessary. Besides, the sun doesn't go down in Alaska until around 2 am, and up north at Barrow the sun doesn't set for 60 days! Imagine what you could do with no darkness! The only downside to this amazing new plot of land, is that during the winter the sun sets for 4 months, and does not surface until that time is up.

Keyser loved his home, the town he grew up in, and all the snow on the ground. He spent most of his days building and repairing the service bot he made, called Elvis. He was builder, and engineer, he had no use for harvesting and gathering. His life revolved around machines. He built his first pistol at the age of 16, and used it to hunt sabertoothed squirrels for food. He eventually owned and operated his very own repair shop, where people could bring in their broken equipment, armor, or any thing else, and Keyser would fix it for them. Everything was fine for years, until The Eurasian Coalition sent a vessel full of troops to the Western coast of New Alaska in search of America's Savvium deposits. Since the coastal towns had no need to fight and had never been in a war, few guns existed in the town. The men and Keyser fought off the Coalition Troop as best as they could, but to no avail. Their weaponry was far too advanced. At age 18, Keyser had become a prisoner of war.

He was taken to Cape Dezhnev Research Facility, an underground Coalition prison/laboratory located in eastern Russia. He was kept here for nearly ten years, and the Coalition Guards stationed there gave him hell. He was still just a kid, yet they tortured him and beat him like an adult. One morning Keyser woke up in a puddle of sweat. Something wasn't right. He sniffed the air. Something seemed off... but he couldn't tell what. He shrugged it off and began his daily routine of working out. Maybe he would finish carving those wooden playing cards out of the desk in his cell. His cell was cell used to hold sick prisoners, so he had an airtight plexiglass wall on one side where the troops could watch and jeer at him. They were all gathered outside today, more than usual. Just watching him. Some were betting, but he couldn't tell on what. He knew that today was going to be interesting though. About an hour into his daily workout, his breathing became short and raspy. He choked for air. He looked up, and saw a sickly yellow smoke slowly seeping into his room through a hole in the upper wall. That was definitely not there yesterday.The troops behind the glass laughed and nearly pissed themselves over his lack of oxygen. He grabbed his bedsheet and cut a square out of it, then used the elastic from his canteen strap and secured the rag around his face, then doused it with water. He had seen this technique in a manual at an old fire station back home, and figure it would work with this mystery gas. His breath was rapid and shallow, and his lungs were on fire.

What the troops didn't realize though, is that the machine that was pumping chemicals into Keyser's cell was leaking. That night, on the soldiers walked into the room adjacent to Keyser's and a large cloud of yellow, wispy smoke bellowed out into the halls. It was much more concentrated than before, and almost instantly incapacitated the guards. This was Keyser's chance. He picked the lock on the door and ran out into the hallway. He sprinted through the infected hallway and down the corridor, into the armory. He grabbed a rifle and a gasmask, and headed to the infirmary. He had to stop and sit down, he couldn't breathe. long-term exposure had rendered his lungs ineffective on their own. He grabbed a respirator and a large battery from the maintenance room, and wired them together. He carried a small oxygen tank over his shoulder. This is what he would be reduced to. He took all of his gear off and stood there, mentally preparing himself for the journey ahead. He needed to get back home. He walked into the room across the hall, and made a startling discovery: Cryo-chambers. He leaned in to get a closer look and was pushed from behind by a crawling Coalition trooper. He stumbled into the chamber and heard the door shut behind him. The trooper leaned up and activated the timer. He was about to become a living pospsicle.

As he awoke, Keyser wondered what had happened. He also wondered why he was so cold. He looked around, and realized he was trapped inside. He tried kicking the door off, and broke the glass on the door. He crawled out and grabbed his gear from before. The only thing he remembered was that he needed to get out of here.

He put his makeshift life support system on and headed outside. What he didn't know was that in the time he was under, the world had undergone a massive change. He stepped outside into the cold, apocalyptic air and stood in awe. Everything was gone. Everything. The air had a thick grey fog about it. It was dead quiet, even the animals were gone. Once he got over the initial shock, his mind cleared, and he realized he wouldn't last long on his small tank of oxygen. His lungs didn't work properly and he needed medical equipment. He didn't know what happened, but he knew he couldn't stay here. He headed out in search of supplies and began his new life.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Later on, he served as a scout in the New World Knights and made friends with the sniper, who goes by the codename Demon. Everyone in the NWK had a codename, Keyser's being Alaska, alluding to his birthplace. Demon and Alaska became fast friends and grew tired of following orders, and left the NWK. They later joined the Legion as Squad Leaders, but soon realized they were not fond of military life.

They wandered off in the middle of the night and founded the Raiders, a small community focused solely on removing the rich from power. They spend their days holed up in small bases out of sight, and they strike bases when no one is looking.

Eventually, Alaska was able to create a life support suit out of an old Conglomerate suit and some medical equipment he found while raiding. This would allow him to roam the wastes more freely without fear of malfunction in his portable respirator. He developed a powerful porta-respirator soon after, and used it often, but at the cost of not being able to carry large oxygen tanks. He hoped that his skill in creating support suits would help fellow wastelanders, provided they don't piss him off.

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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Mon Mar 14, 2016 11:03 pm

I see this didn't really take off, but since we have a lot of new players, it should be fun to see what people come up with. king

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PostSubject: Re: PNRP, Behind the Players   Tue Mar 15, 2016 7:57 am

StormySunrise wrote:
RP Name:Grant "Stormy" Grusenberg
Age:47
Gender:Male
Occupation:Paragon Facility : Security Branch
Misc info:Ex-Military
Before the wastes happened Grant was in the army, after a incident including buttered chicken rations and alot of C4 he was dishonorably discharged from the military, Finding work was dificult as he became a pessimistic asshole. After many jobs and employments he decided it was time to try a work similar to what he used to do, security work.

The Omega team, "Stormy",  'Clockwork", "Sunrise", "Greyhound", and "Terraise" guarded the fifth branch of the Paragon Research Facility. They would follow the same routine, stand around with trigger-finger's at ready. But in early 2560 the "geek squad" scientist wing started to drug security teams and tested on them, the Paragon Megacorp simply watched as the security teams were tested on. Luckily though the Omega team requested a transfer before they too could get drugged.
Unfortunately a rival corporation overtook the facility and the three surviving security team's quickly went into hiding.

Years passed with the teams helping each other safe from the hazards the earth threw at them. then in mid-2577 the teams were split up when they reached a area dubbed "The Wastes" populated by rival groups such as the "Thunderheads", "UNSC", "117th Legion". and the "Monroe Republic", the three team's were split up as each team had a different goal in mind. Delta team continued to travel straight through "The Wastes", and were not seen in the area ever since. The Gamma team was wiped out by a bounty hunter party sent by the rival corporation. Omega team simply sat and dug their heels in the plentifully dusty wastes.


Soon though the team finally found a bunker, calling the place their home they settled there. Years past and the bunker gre2 in population. Li family immigrants joined from a place called the "Orient" and the Bradbury family also lived in the bunker. the bunker settlement sent out a single member of the team each year to explore the waste and relay information essential to survival.
Stormy met many people and made plenty of connections and had strings to pull if the conditions of the bunker turned south.


#crappybackstory2013hopeuhadphunreadingfgt

Literally just saw the edits made, made me laugh real hard XD

---edit----
(The fact that I actually wrote something like this once concerns me)

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