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Post by Shiro on May 24, 2009 10:18:14 GMT -5
I would like for you to do two things before you are accepted:
-Read the rules -Fix the grammatical errors in your profile
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DJAtomika
Civilian
Oh no you didn't.
Posts: 47
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Post by DJAtomika on Jun 9, 2009 22:09:43 GMT -5
U S E R I N F O Name: Screen name 'DJAtomika'. Nickname 'DJ'. Call me by the latter. Age: 17 Role Playing Experience: Lots. Started play-by-post RPing since a couple years back. RPing skills a bit rusty, but I can manage.
C H A R C T E R I N F O
Name: Jackson 'Jak' Daniels Age: 23 Gender: Male Bio:
Physical Description He stands 6 feet tall, weighing in at 175 pounds, his build a cross between very muscular and not so muscular. He has auburn brown hair, sapphire blue eyes. A typical American, with a not so typical appearance. People that look at him tend to shrink away, mainly because he has a tattoo of a fanged serpent that covers the right half of his face, and wears cosmetic contact lenses that turn his normally blue irises white. Over his eyes he has on a pair of glasses, rectangular lenses, no frames around the top half. The frame is primarily black in colour, with white highlights around the lenses. His hair is slightly gelled to fall over the right side of his face, his fringe curving over, then falling over half his right eye.
He wears a white long-sleeved shirt, plain design except for a winged skull on the front. Over this he wears a black sleeveless hoodie, with a skull embroidered on the left breast of it. It usually is zipped up a third of the way up his body, to let the skull on his shirt come into view. On his upper left arm, when exposed, is a tattoo of a dragon, extending down his arm, the head of it ending on the top of his left hand. His right arm is clean, but he wears a black leather fingerless glove on his hand.
On his legs he wears a pair of plain black boxer shorts, underneath a pair of grey jeans, slightly baggy. A pair of metal chains extends from the left side of his jeans, curling round to end slightly behind him, also on his left. He wears a pair of white ankle socks, underneath a pair of basketball sneakers on his feet, white base, with four black stripes on the sides.
History Coming from an average family, Jak's family wasn't one to make a huge income and spend it lavishly on posh things, designer clothes, big houses and more recently, the 'anti-aging serum', as he had dubbed it during his teen years to his peer in high school. Nope, his family made enough to make it through the years, sometimes spending on material pleasures, but mostly on household necessities. Food, clothes, a roof over their head, toiletries, everything was taken care of by his parents.
That was, until, his parents gained the attention of the government. You see, Jak's dad worked as a clerk in a government office, and he recently caught a colleague looking through some confidential files. Being an honest man, he reported the offense to his superior, who promptly fired the man and gave good ol' dad a promotion. Experiencing an increase in salary, their family decided to spend that little more, and then the serum caught their eye. Having only enough money to buy enough for one person, dad decided to get it and gave it to mom, who took it. Little did they know that the serum created the tragedy that became daily life.
During the transitional period, Jak completed high school (studying modern music) and got a job as a part time disk jockey at a local club, doing gigs when the full-time DJ, another bloke naming himself DJ WhiteRose, was off work. Slowly, surely, he gained reputation as a better jockey than the other guy, and was replaced after a successful gig one night as the main DJ at the club. The same club was where Jak experienced the horrors to come, after a patron, looking like death warmed over, attacked a few of the regulars, causing the entire club (including him) to run helter-skelter from the club itself. After the horrifying incident, he returned home, only to find his mother, succumbing to the same fate as the poor party-goer, standing over his dad's dead body, a bloody frying pan in her hand. Now even more horrified than before, he ran out of the house before she could chase him. He now stays alive on the streets, taking advice from other survivors and occasionally going with groups of them to scavenge for supplies.
Personality
He is rather friendly, despite his outer appearance. He loves making friends and cracking jokes to lighten moods. But when you see him alone, he is more of a loner, sticking to himself, otherwise being very unfriendly to things around him.
Role Play Post Example:
Blood. Bodies. Body parts. Rubble. Glass. All these and more littered the ruined streets as Jackson Daniels, a.k.a. Jak among the survivors he met occasionally on his runs for supplies. Crashed cars, bloody walls, floors, doors, everything and anything that had a body or two was covered in blood. Bodies, bodies everywhere, flies buzzing noisily around them, feasting on the rotting meat. And the Infected, staggering, shambling around, looking for more victims to pile their blood-thirsty rage on. Machete and baseball bat in hand, he cautiously sneaked past the mini-horde (that's how its spelt Shiro) in order to get to a small corner shop, which sold groceries and the like before the apocalypse.
Sneaking past the last one, he crawled through the broken glass window and into the shop. Quickly taking a glance round the shop, he noted a back door, which he would use to escape later. He rummaged through the isles, only managing to find a few unopened bottles of mineral water and some sandwiches, still in their wrappers, crumpled, but otherwise okay. Freshly looted, he noted. Stuffing the items into a backpack, he sneaked out the back door and went away silently.
Silently, but not silent enough. As his sneaker accidentally kicked an empty can, a couple of the Infected in the back alley turned around and stared at him, before screeching and running straight for him. He stared at the rushing things in horror, before turning and running away in terror.
He could hear the Infected chasing him with every step, and each time he turned a corner, he ran into more Infected, which proceeded to chase him as well. He tried various combinations of turns, doubling back and increasing his speed to try and lose them. But eventually he managed to lose them by speeding up, then ducking into an alley, watching as they ran past his hiding place.
He sank down onto his ass and sighed in relief. As he looked around his surroundings, he noticed a sign that pointed to the Planetarium. Spray-painted onto the sign were the words 'All survivors head this way to safety'. He nodded in his head and stood up. He walked down the road towards the Planetarium, ever observant, ever careful.
zamby
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Post by Shiro on Jun 9, 2009 23:04:44 GMT -5
So far my only complaint is that he doesn't weigh enough-- I refuse to have another Tanjuu...
Unless he were at LEAST 130 lbs, he would not be able to support himself.
Also, I should kick you in the teeth for the snarky "that's how it's spelled" comment, lol. Thanks, though. :]
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DJAtomika
Civilian
Oh no you didn't.
Posts: 47
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Post by DJAtomika on Jun 11, 2009 7:34:23 GMT -5
Fixed. I think.
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Tanjuu
Zombie Hunter
Posts: 134
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Post by Tanjuu on Jun 11, 2009 8:10:14 GMT -5
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Post by Shiro on Jun 11, 2009 9:44:32 GMT -5
Tanjuu, news, he's an anime character-- cartoons can defy the laws of physics... also-- Spike Spiegal is 6'1" and weight 154 lbs and he's a fucking stick.... Jigen is supposed to be 6 feet tall and weighs 154 lbs... And you, awesome punk rock rave guy-- IN!! Gray is going to love you. <3
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Tanjuu
Zombie Hunter
Posts: 134
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Post by Tanjuu on Jun 11, 2009 10:40:34 GMT -5
Yeah well... bleh. I'll make a change if that's the case.
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DJAtomika
Civilian
Oh no you didn't.
Posts: 47
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Post by DJAtomika on Jun 11, 2009 22:38:36 GMT -5
Oh, Shiro. Couldja PM me about The Planetarium? I'm kinda lost as to where everyone is.
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Post by Skynet on Jun 12, 2009 18:37:54 GMT -5
I do not know if this is a fair way to settle the hight-weight debate but this is my reasoning:
Everyone agrees that Abraham Lincoln was a tall, lanky man and by his own account (I looked it up) he was 6' 4" and weighted 180 lbs.
Also, my brother is 6'3" and a skinny skinny beanpole and he weighs 170.
For game characters of approximately this height, I'd say no lower than ~155 or 160 is reasonable. Less for girls.
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DJAtomika
Civilian
Oh no you didn't.
Posts: 47
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Post by DJAtomika on Jun 12, 2009 19:26:04 GMT -5
I'll go edit his weight again...
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DJAtomika
Civilian
Oh no you didn't.
Posts: 47
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Post by DJAtomika on Jun 22, 2009 8:57:54 GMT -5
Weight changed. Go take a look.
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Sukhoi
Civilian
?Girl?s a mind-readin? genius, can?t even figure out how to eat an ice-planet.?
Posts: 15
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Post by Sukhoi on Jul 14, 2009 22:21:28 GMT -5
U S E R I N F O Name: Sukhoi Age: 21 Role Playing Experience: Moderate, mostly a small 'writing for fun' background and some D&D and a bit of Zamby killin'
C H A R C T E R I N F O
Name: Dmitriy Tskolan Age: 36 Gender: Male
Physical Description Dmitriy Tskolan is of almost perfect average build. 5' 6" in height and weighing in a just a little over 176 pounds. His hair is kept short, though a bit longer than military regulation. He marked proficient in both pistol and small arms marksmanship. He also garnered master rank in the solo survival course.
History
Name: Dmitriy Tskolan Age: 36 Rank: Lieutenant Colonel Position: Pilot, Kamchatsky Air Base, Petropovlovsk
Born during the hight of the cold war, Dmitriy grew up in a small fishing village in cold Siberia. He joined the Military at the youngest age possible and quickly accelerated through the flight training program. The middle years of the man's life are hazy, hidden behind layers of military 'order' or perhaps the lack there of. His life reemerges around the current date. Stationed in Petropavlovsk, a peninsula in Siberia, he is the flight officer of a Sukhoi Su-27 Fullback fighter bomber. His mother still lives in his home town, and his father had drown at sea during the time Dmitriy was in basic. His life now has been slow, boring, with hardly any air time, despite having an over abundance of jet fuel.
Personality
Very friendly to native Russians and eastern Europeans. Having grown up during the cold war he has a suspicion of Americans. Though, it is nothing that he lets show. He comes off as very calculating and quite military-esq. However, when panicked, rushed, or scared, Dmitriy often slips into a very fast speaking 'buddy buddy' sort of banter and action.
Role Play Post Example: note: * = translated from Russian.
Dmitriy rolled out of his bunk and hit the floor hard. The attack warning siren screamed loud in his mind. "The hell?*" However confused and bedraggled he was, it was two in the morning, Lt. Col. Tskolan moved quickly. He tore open his flight trunk, pulling out his winter weight flight suit and stepping into the beast. nearly a mile of zippers later he trundled out of his room, survival pack over one shoulder and flight helmet tucked under the other arm. This was very unusual.
Trotting, for that was as fast as one could move in a winter flight suit, Dmitriy made his way out onto the flight ramp. He spotted his superior, no, it was his general, standing on top of a jeep with his staff, armed for bear, and shouting orders. Quickly making his way towards his plane, for that seemed like the only good idea at the, Dmitriy began to hear muffled gunfire along the airfield's perimeter. Что на название ада продолжается? What the hell was going on? Who could be attacking? He had heard rumors of some sort of plague going around, but this small base was nigh incommunicado with Moscow, or for that matter, the world.
A moaning roar was swept with the wind, sending a chill down Tskolan's spine. It took him five minutes to run through the start up list and get his jet taxied onto the runway. However, by the time his attention moved back to the world the base's security soldiers had backed up to the edge of the runway. Before them the ground was littered with corpses. What the hell!
As he locked up the breaks his eyes fell back over to the slowly retreating line of security personnel. The, men? they were fighting charged headlong into automatic gunfire, dropping like sacks of potatoes. One jumped, grabbed, and seemed to bit at one soldier before he shot the thing in the head.
"Bozhe' Moi." Dmitriy whispered as the same soldier then turned his weapon upon himself. That was enough, time to go. Where didn't matter, he just didn't want to be here anymore. "Genesis requesting takeoff conformation. Control, respond.*"
...
"Genesis to Control, respond.*"
... Again, no response came in.
"Fuckit." He spoke in English. Dmitriy pushed the throttle to full military power, farther actually, boosting the fighter bomber into afterburner and tearing down strip and thundering into the air. and away from the massacre below him.
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Post by Shiro on Jul 14, 2009 23:45:55 GMT -5
Accepted.
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Sukhoi
Civilian
?Girl?s a mind-readin? genius, can?t even figure out how to eat an ice-planet.?
Posts: 15
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Post by Sukhoi on Jul 15, 2009 0:42:43 GMT -5
Coolio, Thanks.
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Post by bubbabob303 on Jul 19, 2009 22:36:13 GMT -5
U S E R I N F O Name: Mark Age: 19 Role Playing Experience: Some... unknown ammount of time
C H A R C T E R I N F O Name: Tommy Sanders Age: 55 Gender: Male Bio: (History)
Tommy Sanders was born in rural Tennesse. He was the son of a mother and never knew a dad, and the local recruiting officer became his "father figure" at the age of 12. At the age of 16 he signed up for the army (making up his age, and having his mother sign for him) and was sent to service in Vietnam.
He was about 6' 200lbs and fully grown at this time. He had rough brown hair and deep dark brown eyes.
When in Vietnam he got a deep scar from a surprise ambush in where many of his men died. He was cut in the left arm, but in doing so he saved a member of his squad and earned the Medal of Honor. After this, he was promptly promoted to a major in the Marines of the United States of America, and then resumed fighting, actually being involved in the evacuation process.
Upon his return home, he was given a warm welcome and then somewhat faded into everyones mind, until he became the football coach at the school there. He led their team to win state, and he and his wife, Julie, were very happy and welcome in the town.
After this, he and his wife had to kids, Billy and Steve. These two boys were extremely good in football... and then it happened.
The infection spread rapidly through their small town and hit their house after about day two. Tommy had to kill his own wife and kids and ran away in his neighbors 2009 Ford Mustang and went to Chicago, knowing there was a safe haven there.
(Weapons)
Normally carries general combat issued weapons from Vietnam (such as the Colt pistol, the Greasegun, the Carbine Rifle, and he actually has the flame thrower).
(Personality)
Very forgiving/protecting of his squad. Somewhat quiet, but can be vocal when needed.
Role Play Post Example:
(Setting is in Chicago where zombies have basically swarmed)
As Tommy was running from the large group of zombies chasing him, he turned and looked over his shoulder and saw that he couldn't see where he had been. The zombies, starving for their next meal, were chasing him down the main road. He dove into a building and slammed the metal door shut and shoved a nearby rod into it, to prevent it from opening.
Tommy breathed a deep breath, and then heard something. It was a deep breathing, not his own, coming from down the hall. The zombies were mindlessly beating on the door, just making small dents in it.
Tommy, intent on keeping this building as his own, un-holstered his Colt and walked down the hall, gun at the ready. As he approached the breathing got heavier, so he knew he was close. As he approached the door, he heard a blood-culturing scream and then something smashing on the door, ripping holes through it. He started to pull the trigger, but it jammed. He began to run down the hall, into the darkness and heard the worst sound he could hear, the sound of a mass of zombies. He turned to run back to the front door and fight his way out with the baseball bat he had, but then the door caved in and in came one of the biggest zombies he had ever seen. He looked up and saw an air vent on the ceiling. Zombies coming from all sides he had to react quickly.
Tommy grabbed a nearby rolling chair and stood on it while smacking the vent with his baseball bat. The zombies were closing in, puking and clawing their way through each other. He had about 5 seconds when the vent came free and he wriggled in, a zombie just barely getting the sole of his shoe.
As Tommy looked down, at the swarm around his feet, he tossed his shoe down and the zombies fought each other for it. He looked at his foot and saw it was cut by the zombie that tried to get him. He taped it up and slowly crawled further in, using his flashlight to get out. When he looked onto the street, it looked barren until he saw a flashing light in the distance. From his military experience, he knew that it was morse code. It said, "We are friendly. Come here quickly.". He checked the road one more time, and no signs of zombies.
Tommy jumped down to the road and quickly made a dash for his car. He got in, but it wouldn't start, but the sound of the door slamming got many zombies attention. They started to swarm, so he smashed open the back seat to his trunk and got the flamethrower he had been keeping. He smashed open the front window, just enough to fit the tip of the flamethrower out of, and shot a huge burst of fire at the zombies in the front of the car. The smell of burning flesh was horrible, but the zombies ran. He tried again to start the car, this time working. He floored it and heard the crunching of the bones of many zombies.
Going 80 miles an hour, he heard heavy machine gun fire from his destination. "Dang, these guys are prepared", thought Tommy. Tommy drifted into the spot right near the door and stumbled in. Tired and out of adrenaline, he made it upstairs to where the others were and passed out...
Zamby
((Edited to space out the things better))
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