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Fallout Discussion Topic


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#1 Offline ~JC~

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Posted May 04 2013 - 12:01 AM

yeah. post profiles here. if they were pre-approved, let me know.

 

thread

 

my skype is BigDaddyBats if you need me in a hurry.

 

k formalities over, have fun! :]


Edited by Ra's al Ghul, May 04 2013 - 12:08 AM.

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tu whit, tu whoo


#2 Offline Shadow Flaredrick

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Posted May 04 2013 - 01:53 PM

Approved by Ra's Al Ghul

 

Username: Flaredrick: Forgotten OneName: Ricardo MenendezAppearance: http://ts2.mm.bing.n...&h=164&c=7&rs=1Affiliation:[color=rgb(0,0,0);font-family:'Courier New';] Texas Union[/color]Age: 21Specialization:[color=rgb(40,40,40);font-family:helvetica, arial, sans-serif;] CQC combat and marksmanship.[/color]Equipment:[color=rgb(0,0,0);font-family:'Courier New';] Combat Knife and Sniper Rifle[/color]Bio: His great great grandfather was a native of San Antonio, or what is now the Badlands. Which is who he is named after. He always wondered what he's ancestor was like, but he's father never talked him about him. So while he is not helping the Union preserving the power of Texas, he tries to head into the Badlands to find out any clues to what his life was like. While he's helping out in stopping attacks, he usually perches himself on a window on top of a high building, and snipe them out.


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#3 Offline thelonewander

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Posted May 04 2013 - 03:16 PM

Up for approval

 

 

Username: thelonewander 

Name: Blake Raynkin 

Appearance: Blake stands at around 5'7”, and looks slim. Is well muscled, they are just small. Has chestnut brown hair, with a navy blue streak in it caused by some low level radiation exposure. His eyes are a deep navy blue, just about the same color as the streak in his hair. He doesn't know what caused it, but he thinks its due to radiation. His armor is a dark color, somewhere between gray and black. 

Affiliation: Is not affiliated with any group, unless they have paid for his services

 

Age: 25 

Specialization: Blake is a professional mercenary, doing what ever job pays the best. Blake is also very well versed in weapons, how to use them, how to fix them, keep them working, and at least 30 different ways to kill you with a rock, and then hide the body in a few creative ways. 

Equipment:  wears reinforced lightweight leather armor, and a medium sized gear bag. Weapon wise, carries a 10mm pistol, a .44 magnum revolver, a combat shotgun, and an assault rifle. He also has at least 5-7 clips worth of ammo for each gun,and it's all kept withing easy reach for him. 

Bio: Blake grew up in the East, out in the Capital Wasteland. There, he comes from a long line of mercenaries. With a family history that went back to the time when the Lone Wanderer was still kicking, Blake had to carve a name out for himself in the Capital. Joining a small merc group that guarded water caravans from the Jefferson memorial, it was dull job. By this point, most people left the caravans alone, but the occasional crazy did try to attack. They were put down quite quickly. After half a year, Blake went with a group out west, to the shining city of New Vegas. There, he fell in working as yet again a caravan guard. This time thought, it was protecting Gun Runner supply shipments. This proved to be a lot more exciting, and Blake stuck with them for a few years. As time passed, he took one last trip, collected his caps at the other end, and then headed down south to Austin. Seeing as how things were getting tense between the NCR and the Texas Union, a Mercenary like Blake could make a good bit of money out there, and the possibility of whatever loot he could fine exploring the area around the main town. So, setting off, Blake was only arrived recently, having spent only a day or two in Austin.  


Edited by thelonewander, May 04 2013 - 03:46 PM.

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War...war never changes.

A wanderer always walks the lonesome road at some point. always

Tales of the Wanderer

We crawl, on our knees for you,
under, a sky no longer blue,
we sweat, all day long for you.

But we sow, seeds to see us though,
cause sometimes dreams just don't come true,
we wait, to reap what we are due.

Everything I touch turns to Ashes,

...It slips right though my hands


#4 Offline ~JC~

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Posted May 04 2013 - 03:38 PM

No way are you a descendant of the Lone Wanderer, but otherwise approved.


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tu whit, tu whoo


#5 Offline thelonewander

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Posted May 04 2013 - 03:44 PM

aw, oh well. Guess i should go and fix that...


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War...war never changes.

A wanderer always walks the lonesome road at some point. always

Tales of the Wanderer

We crawl, on our knees for you,
under, a sky no longer blue,
we sweat, all day long for you.

But we sow, seeds to see us though,
cause sometimes dreams just don't come true,
we wait, to reap what we are due.

Everything I touch turns to Ashes,

...It slips right though my hands


#6 Offline Chronicler of Ko-Koro

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Posted May 04 2013 - 03:55 PM

Approved by Ra's Al Ghul:Username: Chronicler of Ko-KoroName: Danny BurtonAppearance: A ragged looking man, with uncombed sandy blonde hair, a rough beard, and steely gray eyes that always seem as if theyre staring off somewhere in the distance.  Wears a dirt-stained gray shirt, black pants and combat books under a weathered leather duster and fedora that have clearly seen better use long ago. Strapped to his left thigh is a holster for his revolver. Right hand missing pinky finger; wears glove over this hand to hide his injury.Affiliation: Unaffiliated civilianAge: 34Specialization: Guide & hired gun. Self-taught survivalist, tracker, and medic from in-the-field experience. Skilled as a marksman, but significantly handicapped by his injury.Equipment: Lever action shotgun, .44 Magnum revolver, brass knuckle, a couple of stimpacks, and a small metal flash either filled or recently filled with whiskey at any given time.Bio: Earlier in his life, Danny Burton hailed from a region of the wastes that, pre-war, had once been Kentucky. He served as a member of the Regulators,  a group of vigilante bounty hunters born out of the Capital Wasteland dedicated to preserving order and punishing wrongdoers. A Regulator would hunt down a mark, and take a finger from the corpse as proof to collect their bounty.Danny was one of the best; some said that hed track a target across miles of irradiated wastes rather than let him slip away, that he could hold the line against an army of raiders, and that he could hit any target he could see, and even some he couldnt. Such claims were exaggerated, of course, and Danny did plenty to encourage the spread of such tall tales. A scared mark was more likely to make mistakes, after all; plus, Danny had to admit he liked the reputation it gave him.But Danny made the mistake of crossing the wrong man. Hed begun having suspicions about one of his fellow Regulators; disappearing at odd hours, strange recountings of his kills which never quite added up. Danny assumed the worst that was going on was that the man was fudging his records somehow, lying about the circumstances. What he discovered trailing him one night was much worse; the Regulator had cut a deal with a group of slavers, sparing their lives in exchange for a cut of their profits. He even dumped his targets off on the slavers rather than killing them, taking a finger off them to bring back to the Regulators and reap the reward from both sides.Danny wasn't about to let that stand. Perhaps believing a little too much in his own reputation, he charged into the slaver camp, guns drawn and blazing. To his credit, he managed to take down more than a few of the bandits before they had a chance to react, cutting a path in blood and lead towards the renegade Regulator. But once the element of surprise had worn off, he was only one man - one man armed to the teeth with firearms and ammunition, mind you, but one man nonetheless - against dozens. Statistics were not in his favor.First, he took a bullet to the knee, then two in the shoulder. Barely able to walk or aim, Danny kept up his charge towards the Regulator, intending to reach him or go down shooting. But the Regulator had other ideas; in addition, he also had a shotgun. Danny took a round of buckshot straight to the gut, knocking all the wind out of his charge and dropping him to the ground. Danny lay there, coughing up blood and trying to keep his insides where they belonged. As his vision blurred, he saw the Regulator standing over him, a bowie knife in one hand. He felt a hand grab hold of his wrist; there was a spasm of pain unlike any he ever felt before, and then it all went black.The next few days were nothing more than a blur of suffering and agony; Danny was never sure if he was awake or out, even if he was alive or dead. The next time he woke up fully cognizant, he was in chains on a slaver caravan headed out west, bloodstained bandages covering where his pinky finger used to be. The Regulator had taken his finger, and left him there under the assumption Danny wouldnt survive to see the next sunrise. But even with more lead in his body than blood, Danny had stubbornly refused to die, fighting to stay on the brink of deaths door for over a week. Forced to decide what to do with the very angry lawman on their hands, the slavers chose the most profitable option and sold him off, figuring he would be someone elses problem then.During the next four long years Danny was bounced between one owner to the next, each transaction taking him further and further away from the Kentucky wastes. At first he tried to escape, but his injuries had left his body a broken mess, and he could barely hold a gun straight enough to shoot after what the Regulator had done to his hand. So Danny bided his time, building up his strength in secret while enduring the abuses his captors heaped upon him. Finally, one night he snuck up behind a guard, strangled him to death with a length of chain, and escaped into the night.Danny wandered in the desert, lost and starved, for days before stumbling upon a brahmin farm and collapsing at their door. He was slowly nursed back to health by the family who lived there, and from them learned that he was in the middle of the Texan wasteland. Danny thanked them for their hospitality and went on his way. He spent the next few weeks drifting between dive bars in frontier towns, trying to acquire passage back home and listening for any rumors. He finally found someone whod heard of the Kentucky Wasteland Regulators, but the news he had was anything but good. The Regulator had taken Dannys finger back to his superiors, framing him for the deal with the slavers. Not only did they think Danny was dead, they thought he was a traitor.Danny lost all purpose. He spent the next six years in an alcohol-induced haze, drifting aimlessly about the Texan wasteland until he found himself in Austin. He started teaching himself to shoot with his left hand; he was starting to make progress, but he was still nowhere near what he once was. To keep himself afloat and to pay his bar tab, Danny started offering himself out as a guide and hired gun to interested parties moving through the Texan wastes. The pay is rarely great, but its enough to keep Danny going another day.In the dank, run down bars Danny tends to frequent, he hears all sorts of rumors about the mounting tensions between the Texan Union and the NCR. He doesn't think much of it, and extends an equal disdain for both sides. Back in the Regulators, no one cared much who you worked for, just what you had done. The only thing that matters about the conflict, as far as Danny is concerned, is the little folk who are gonna get caught in the middle of it.Username: Chronicler of Ko-KoroName: Dixie HawkinsAppearance: Short, wild blonde hair, vibrant green eyes. When out in the field or in combat, wears Brotherhood T-45d power armor, with the Brotherhood sigil painted on the left shoulder, and a red-tailed hawk clasping a nuke with its claws on the right. When off duty, wears a beige tank top, military-green cargo pants, and combat boots.Affiliation: Brotherhood of SteelAge: 23Specialization: Brotherhood Knight. A skilled fighter, trained in energy weapons, hand-to-hand combat, and power armor, and knowledgeable in pre-war history and technology, specifically its repair and modification.Equipment: Laser rifle, power fist, small supply of Med-X, Rad Away, Rad-X and stimpacks.Bio: Born into a family of caravan traders, when Dixie Hawkins was five her family set out from Primm towards the Texan Union, hoping to start a trade route which could compete with the larger Crimson Caravan Company. Unfortunately, their haste to find a quicker route took them far off the beaten path and right into a radscorpion nest. Her family was slaughtered almost instantly, and Dixie barely escaped with her life. Limping across the barren Texas wastes, Dixie took shelter in a crumbling pre-war library. She discovered the encampment of a raider who had the same idea to hide out there, only to get his leg caught in his own bear trap and bleed to death. But his morbid fate turned out to be the key to Dixie's survival; he had left behind enough canned food to last months, if not years, and the traps he had set were enough to deter scavengers from searching the place.At first Dixie simply burned the books for light and warmth during the long, lonesome nights. But as her isolation stretched from weeks into months, Dixie slowly taught herself to read, starting from simple picture books and working her way up. From these books she learned the history of a world long gone, the America that once had been. To the little orphan girl huddled for warmth in a cruel, unforgiving world, the world these books spoke of seemed like paradise by comparison.She found their fiction trashy and derivative, however, and was more than happy to stoke her campfires with them.Dixie had no idea how long she spent living in that library, although the elders would later tell her it was close to two years based off the records of her caravan's departure. Days and nights seemed to blend together, until one day, when a squad of men in metal suits came marching out of the desert up to her library. They broke down the doors, disabling the traps at the entrance, and starting pulling books from the shelves. Terrified, Dixie grabbed a pistol the dead raider had left stashed away and started taking shots at the invaders; those books were all she had left, and she wasn't going to let anyone take them from her.The weathered, badly maintained pistol jammed after only two shots, which did nothing more than leave dents in the intruders' power armor. The "invaders" had been a recon team from the Travis County chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel, sent to secure a possible source of pre-war knowledge. Most of the team was prepared to continue with their mission and ignore the wastelander girl trying to intervene, but one Paladin took pity on her, knowing she would surely die out here once her food supply ran out. Despite the others protests, she brought Dixie back to the Brotherhood and informally adopted her.As she grew older, Dixie learned more about the Brotherhood and its ideals. Their mission to preserve the ways and technology of the old word, the same legendary world she'd read about, instantly resonated with her. She quicky excelled in her training, achieving the rank of Knight. Dixie was assigned with retrieving pre-war technology and finding ways to suit the Brotherhood's needs, a task she pursues with eager enthusiasm. But as she scours the wasteland, searching for weapons and fighting off raiders and Super Mutants, Dixie sees the shadow of the NCR looming closer every day. As far as she sees it, the world the NCR wants to built is an imperfect, flawed shell of the old world the Brotherhood fights to preserve, and that flawed world is the one which killed her parents. And Dixie will do anything to make sure the border of that world stops at Austin.Username: Chronicler of Ko-KoroName: NilAppearance: A Ghoul with darkish, flaky skin, and a few stray strands of brown hair atop his head. Slightly more physically fit than the average ghoul. Typically wears the standard combat armor, helmet, and goggles of an NCR trooper, otherwise wears a military-green shirt, dark pants, boots and a pair of NCR dog tags.Affiliation: New California Republic, GhoulAge: Unknown, but can be presumed to be at least 285Specialization: NCR Army lieutenant. Skilled sniper and marksman, also trained in hand-to-hand combat but not his preferred method of fighting.Equipment: Marksman carbine, 9mm pistol, combat knife, and several frag grenadesBio: Nil probably has a name. No one in the New California Republic army knows what it, though, or even whether he knows it. If he does remember it, hes not eager to share it, and very irritated by anyone who wants to question him about it. For the most part his superiors have seen fit to drop the issue, particularly in light of his exemplary service record. Bets about his real identity are common among his fellow troopers, although most of them wisely dont mention them to his face.They do, however, know that hes lived a very long time, that he was alive back long ago when the first bombs fell. The precise details are not something Nil prefers to share, in no small part because of how jumped they are in his mind. His past is so long he cant keep it straight in his mind, to say nothing of the parts of it hed rather forget. Nil knows he was a soldier back then too, stationed at a base in the old California. The precise details of the life he once lived come and go from day to day, but theres one memory that he can never forget: a wall of flame rising up into the sky, a blast which tore the walls around him to dust and rubble, and heat so terrible it was like standing on the surface of the sun.He dragged himself over smouldering, radioactive rubble for days on end, crawling on his hands and knees as elsewhere, society was crumbling away to nothingness. His hair fell off and his skin started to peel; he was certain he was going to die, and begged desperately with fate just to let him live. As it turned out, fate was willing to grant his request, but in a way far crueler than if it had simply been allowed to die in the molten crater of that nuclear detonation.Wandering alone for weeks among the ruins, he soon found his condition was growing steadily worse. As he watched plants, animals, and people dying around him, he cursed whatever power chose to let him live. Years past without him meeting another living soul. He does not encounter another living soul into six years later, another person unfortunate enough to share his condition. Time went on, he encountered more survivors; at first only others like him, then as the years went by he started encountering normal humans. They shunned and feared the radiation-scarred freak, some even reacting violently, but proving to be no match for the trained soldier.Nil could never quite remember when it was he realized he probably should have died of old age. It was just something that dawned on him eventually, watching the human settlements rise up and expand, the people living their growing old and dying. He also watched his fellow ghouls as their minds slowly degraded with the pressures of age, until they turned feral and he was forced to put them down. It was a fate he did not intend to suffer, and kept himself honed physically and mentally to stay in peak condition. He offered his skills out to whatever mercenary groups would have him; even if they hated him as a ghoul, his training made him a valuable enough asset that they could overlook that.This was how he spent his life for over a hundred years - Nil had long since past the point of caring about counting - until he first heard of the New California Republic. He had been hired by a group of raiders trying to fortify their hideout against the NCR troops that were moving in to help annex the region. Seeing the New California Republic as a government trying to rebuild the world hed lived in and lost, Nil immediately threw down his weapons and went straight to the other side. He gave the troops everything they needed to wipe out the raider camp in exchange for citizenship. Nil soon enlisted in the NCR army and moved up the ranks to lieutenant, gaining a reputation that made sure none of his fellow soldiers would be dumb enough to mistreat him for being a ghoul.When the NCR began moving into the Texas wastes, Nil was appalled when he saw the way the Resurgence Church treated the ghouls living there. Hed spent most of his lonely, miserable existence dealing with that kind of prejudice, and usually only one way: with a bullet. Taking over the territory became more than just his duty as a soldier for him; now, it was a matter of justice. Nil even finds himself sometimes hoping the peace talks will break down, just so he give the Church a demonstration on what a true Ghoul is capable of.[For Science!]


Edited by Chronicler of Ko-Koro, May 04 2013 - 04:26 PM.

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No one in the world ever gets what they want,

and that is beautiful.

Everybody dies frustrated and sad,

and that is beautiful.


#7 Offline ~JC~

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Posted May 04 2013 - 04:09 PM

Approved, Lone.

 

K let's have some fun! First person to send me an interesting plotline for the Texas Union gets claim to one of the four ghosts. Two are taken, one by me and one by Kaitho. Winner of this contest gets number three.


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tu whit, tu whoo


#8 Offline Shadow Flaredrick

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Posted May 04 2013 - 07:32 PM

Via PM?


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Bionicle Hitman VI: Final Hour Guns, Explosions, and hoards of countless enemies!

Join before all 12 spots are filled!

BZPRPG Profiles

Flaredrick Seria - Potas -'Jet Fire' -'Razor'- 'Infector' - Reso 'Vo - Kasrar 'V- Ludvin va Betravo - Vallen Tor - Molvr Kalr


#9 Offline ~JC~

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Posted May 04 2013 - 07:33 PM

yeah


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tu whit, tu whoo


#10 Offline Shadow Flaredrick

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Posted May 04 2013 - 07:44 PM

Plot has been sent. I'm keeping myself up on Fallout 3 by watching walkthroughs (even though the whole game is an RPG).


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#11 Offline ~JC~

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Posted May 04 2013 - 07:50 PM

This game is more inspired by New Vegas than Fallout 3. It's good to know both, though.

 

Edit: Profiles!

 

Name: Jason Hanlon

Appearance: Jason is a caucasian male about twenty seven. He is tall and well built, with shaved black hair and sharp green eyes. His lips are pale and thin and his face is bony and thin. He has scars on his cheeks and forehead, and seems as malnourished as most NCR soldiers.

Affiliation: New California Rangers - Veteran Status

Age: Twenty Seven

Specialization: Jason is a Ranger, meaning he has many specializations. Among them though is his uncanny sniping ability, which is by far the best the NCR has to offer. He is as proficient with scouting as much as the Rangers require him to be, but isn’t comfortable doing it and his superiors recognize it. He is very well tailored for commando work, and usually does that.

Equipment: Jason is a natural sniper, so he prefers weapons like Marksmen Carbines and Anti-Materiel Rifles. However, as a high ranking soldier, he has access to the NCR armory depending on what his mission requires.

Bio: Jason was selected for Ranger training at age fifteen a month after he began training for the army. He was the third youngest ever to be nominated, and the second youngest to receive his Ranger Stars. He was the NCR’s golden boy, and made numerous public appearances. Since his first, though, he has been a topic of conversation. Many a conspiracy theorist think he was selected for Ranger training and honoured as he was because of his grandfather. Jason Hanlon was a descendant of Jacob Hanlon, the Ranger Chief that ran two campaigns in the Mojave wastes, the mastermind behind the first Battle of Hoover Dam. The Chief never lived to see the second battle, because of a scandal he was ousted in which lead to his suicide. The theorists got more to play with when at age twenty five, seven years after completing Ranger training, Jason was given his Golden Stripes, and his black armour.

Jason was the first Ranger to sign up for the Texan campaign. His goals in Texas include, naturally, to further the cause of the New California Republic and to make the great greater, but he has a few selfish goals as well. He is very eager to prove himself. For this reason alone he is one of the few that hopes the negotiations between Knox and Rodriguez go poorly, and war is announced.

He spent a lot of time in Austin undercover, before the NCR arrived in full. He noted things like troop deployment and capabilities, and observed culture and civilian satisfaction of their government. He, and his supervisors, were intimidated by both findings.

Username: big boss ra’s ross

Name: Julius

Appearance: Julius looks an awful lot like a ghost, much like Ranger Ghost. He is albino, and dresses almost entirely in black. He has shoulder length conditioned black hair, ravaging red eyes and his incisors were sharpened to fangs, for effect. Fortunately for everyone, he often wears wraparound shades that hide his terrifying eyes.

Julius has custom-made armor he is also seldom seen without. It is spray painted entirely jet black. The chestpiece seems to resemble the one on the standard T-45d, but few other parts are recognizable. He often wears a trenchcoat over it anyway. This armour is likely very resistant, as it once survived a fragmentation detonation at point blank, an attempt at the President’s life.

Affiliation: Unholy Texas Union- Ghost (Leader)

Age: Unknown.

Specialization: Not only is Julius a Ghost, Julius is THE Ghost. His charisma is his most powerful tool, his ability to control a crowd with only his voice. Naturally, though, Julius is very scary. He is the face of the Ghosts, and seldom makes public appearances outside of time of emergency or crisis. He is most commonly recognized by his appearances on the many Pro-Union propaganda posters.

On a more down to business level, Julius is extremely proficient with all weapons. On an interesting note, he is the only person in Travis County outside of the Brotherhood of Steel capable of wearing Power Armor, owing to the fact that he has been the one dealing with them the most.

Equipment: Julius is the second in command in the Texas Union. He has access to any weapons he wants. He loves his knives, though.

Bio: Julius does not talk about his past, and it is abundantly clear that he has a secret. He came out of somewhere six years ago, shortly before Warren Rodriguez created the Duster program. Popular theories dictate that Julius is actually the one who controls the Union and Rodriguez is just a fall guy. The truth is, while Julius was the inspiration for the Unholy path, he still answers to Rodriguez, and the two are good friends. They have also yet to have a disagreement.

The thing that really propelled Julius to fame was his interactions with the Brotherhood of Steel. When the issue was raised, Julius took it upon himself to serve as the ambassador. He solidified arrangements between the Union and Brotherhood in under two weeks, and he did it with a smile. He would eventually show his true colours, though, as a snake. Rodriguez realized fear was more effective than respect. When the Super Mutants became a threat, Julius would use civilians as bait. He once invited two dozen civilians, trapped them in a building, and used them to lure a Super Mutant commander into it, then set the building ablaze. He built a reputation of evil and intimidation, inspired by Legate Lanius, but more than the Legate could ever be.


Edited by Ra's al Ghul, May 04 2013 - 08:14 PM.

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tu whit, tu whoo


#12 Offline Infamous Ironic Iguana

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Posted May 09 2013 - 05:36 PM

Username: KaithasName: Beth AkinaAppearance: Beth is an extremely attractive young woman, with wavy blonde hair normally hanging loose (when in civvies. When on the battlefield, PERIPHERAL VISION), laughing blue eyes, and a curvy body. Her armor fits her 5'6" frame exceedingly well, providing maximum maneuverability. Most of the time she wears a dark blue cloak with black trim, one that only offers a hint of her face. The hood is made of a material that lets light through one way but not the other, allowing her peripheral vision even with it up.Affiliation: Texas Union: GhostAge: 29Specialization: Beth is the lurker of the group. Always standing behind the more prominent Ghosts, never really talking, she sometimes comes off as more terrifying than most of the others. Her fighting relies on stealth and speed, sacrificing defense and more flashy attacks.One man asked her on a date, so the story goes.Hasn't been heard from since.Equipment: Long barreled 50 cal rifle, more than adequate to put a hole through just about anyone's head. Recoil system cuts down on firing speed, but one shot is usually enough. In addition, she carries a 44 pistol and wears metal body armor. A bullet might be blocked, but it's about 50/50 chance. In addition, she carries a few knives hidden about her person and a short sword at her hip.Bio: Where Beth came from is shrouded in mystery, though one thing's for certain: she's worthy of her Ghost position. She fights like a demon, treads silently, kills quickly.

Edited by Kaitholas Cage, May 09 2013 - 05:39 PM.

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brokenmr.jpg

 

"hold me"- Betsy Braddock


#13 Offline ~JC~

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Posted May 10 2013 - 01:25 AM

Thanks glad you could join us :]

 

Guys ask your friends to join and stuff. I would but I have none. Anyone who recruits a friend gets an in-game bonus! dude yeah it's sweet


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tu whit, tu whoo


#14 Offline Shadow Flaredrick

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Posted May 10 2013 - 07:43 AM

I'm on it to get some goods.


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#15 Offline ~JC~

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Posted May 10 2013 - 06:09 PM

attaboy! capitalism at it's finest!


Edited by Ra's al Ghul, May 10 2013 - 06:11 PM.

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tu whit, tu whoo


#16 Offline Infamous Ironic Iguana

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Posted May 10 2013 - 06:55 PM

Just trying to find a place to hop on.
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brokenmr.jpg

 

"hold me"- Betsy Braddock


#17 Offline ~JC~

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Posted May 10 2013 - 07:15 PM

umm. find Julius, I don't care where you place him.


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tu whit, tu whoo


#18 Offline Chronicler of Ko-Koro

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Posted May 15 2013 - 01:01 AM

Approved by Ra's al Ghul:

 

Username: Chronicler of Ko-KoroName: Cora JensenAppearance: An African-American woman with brown eyes and hair shaved down to a buzz cut. Wears a Followers’ labcoat over a grey shirt, brown pants, and black gloves and boots.Affiliation: Followers of the Apocalypse, NCR civilianAge: 27Specialization: Skilled medic, also possesses limited knowledge of pre-war historyEquipment: 10mm pistol, doctor’s bag with an assortment of medical tools, stimpacks and medicine.Bio: Cora grew up in New Reno, a city located on the far fringes of the New California Republic. Despite being annexed by the NCR, much of the city was still run by cabals of dueling crime families, who made New Reno was a haven for all sorts of vices and criminal activities. Surviving in such a cesspool was not easy without being forced to engage in certain unsavory professions to make ends meet. Addicted to jet and living in slums, she saw no real chance of her life ever improving.All that changed when Cora met a missionary from the Followers of the Apocalypse, come to New Reno to try provide aid to its poorest citizens. The Followers were an organization dedicated to preserving the knowledge of the old world, using it both to try and ensure the cataclysmic war that destroyed it never occurred again, and to help those in the Wasteland sorely in need. The Followers were neither liked or wanted in New Reno, the mob families did everything they could to drive them from the city or otherwise be rid of them, and they lacked the funds and supplies to make significant change in the city even without the pressure upon them. Yet even faced with such challenges they did all they could, with what little they had, to help the poorest souls in New Reno, Cora among them. The Followers helped her to kick her jet addiction, and got her back on her feet. She admired their dedication in the face of such adversity, and when the missionaries ended their mission and returned to safer portions of the NCR, she left New Reno with them.Cora took full advantage of the education the Followers provided, absorbing the Followers teachings like a sponge. She trained as a medic, wanting to help others the way the Followers helped her. Over the next few years she traveled from town to town across the Wasteland, traveling wherever she thought her assistance was needed most. When the NCR started its push into the Texan Wastes, Cora volunteered to lead a small group of her fellow Followers to establish a presence in the region. In exchange for their protection from the dangers of the Wasteland, Cora volunteered their skills as medics out to the NCR soldiers stationed there.Cora hopes to come to an agreement with the leaders of the Texan Union that would allow the Followers of the Apocalypse to establish a more permanent presence within their borders; however, so far she has little success setting up a meeting to arrange such negotiations. She disagrees with some of the Union’s ways, particularly with regard to the Resurgence Church’s influence over its workings, but still feels that peaceful co-existence is a goal worth working towards. As for the NCR, Cora generally sees them as well-meaning if slightly misguided, and while she might harbor some resentment towards them for often leaving the Followers under-supplied and underfunded in favor of their own advancement, she can’t deny that they’ve done the most to help the Wasteland get back on the path towards civilization. Ultimately, political affiliation isn’t Cora’s biggest concern; she worries more about helping the little people in need, no matter which side they might belong to.

 

[For Science!]


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No one in the world ever gets what they want,

and that is beautiful.

Everybody dies frustrated and sad,

and that is beautiful.


#19 Offline ~JC~

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Posted May 15 2013 - 11:15 PM

Apology in advance- I won't be able to post either today or tomorrow. I'm aware that effectively grinds this RPG to a halt since you're all sort of interacting with just me.


Edited by Ra's al Ghul, May 15 2013 - 11:16 PM.

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tu whit, tu whoo


#20 Offline Infamous Ironic Iguana

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Posted May 28 2013 - 01:47 PM

*salutes*Finals are over, family is gone.Should be returning soon, if someone can give me a wrap up.
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brokenmr.jpg

 

"hold me"- Betsy Braddock


#21 Offline thelonewander

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Posted May 28 2013 - 03:44 PM

not much happened, really. where did you leave off at?


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War...war never changes.

A wanderer always walks the lonesome road at some point. always

Tales of the Wanderer

We crawl, on our knees for you,
under, a sky no longer blue,
we sweat, all day long for you.

But we sow, seeds to see us though,
cause sometimes dreams just don't come true,
we wait, to reap what we are due.

Everything I touch turns to Ashes,

...It slips right though my hands


#22 Offline ~JC~

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Posted May 28 2013 - 11:43 PM

nothing that would concern beth at this point. if you're curious, it's less than a page of reading. plus side of having a slow rpg, i guess.


Edited by Ra's al Ghul, May 28 2013 - 11:44 PM.

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tu whit, tu whoo





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