Brotherhood of Steel - Std. Membership Applications

Started by Ragolution, 12-12-2010

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Ragolution


So you maggots think you're Brotherhood of Steel material?
Yeah, I don't think so. But saying that, go ahead and apply if you think you're some kind of badass with lasers.  These applications are for the best of the best - the cream of the cream of the cream corn. I will be grading for Grammar. I will be grading for spelling. I will be grading for historical knowledge. You will, infact, be graded. If you get better than a five, you'll be accepted. If you don't you wont. If you must use an extensive backstory where you were in "The Dome" you are completely free to add me to steam (cannonInspector) and ask me a metric ton of questions if you see fit. I wont even be angry.

You are completely free to fill "Reason you want to join" with "Being a BoS knight sounds fun." I'm fine with that, but don't give me cockamamie bullshit reasons like "I can help the wastelands." or something similar to that overplayed rhyme.

If I have questions/digressions against/with your application, I'll contact you personally on Steam.
This will usually be the case if I do not like your application or do not understand it.

If you apply for Scribe, you'll probably get Scribe. If you apply for Knight, you'll probably get Apprentice. If you apply for Senior Paladin, you'll probably get rejected. That is, of course, unless your profile is awe-inspiring.

Note 1; I will not decline an application outright, unless I can tell you're trolling/are not serious.[/center]
Note 2: You are completely free to modify and edit applications to your liking. Merely BUMP THE THREAD after you've edited with the comment "I've edited my application." and I will re-check. If I don't think you did ANYTHING I will yell at you on steam.Please do not waste my time.

PLEASE NOTE: Initiates of ANY variety will NOT be able to leave the camp/compound.



[b]OOC Name:[/b]
[b]Steam ID:[/b]
[b]Time with HGN:[/b]
[b]Time Roleplaying:[/b]
[b]Primary Language:[/b]
[b]Reason you want to join:[/b]

[hr]

[b]In Character Name:[/b]
[b]Ethnicity:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Applied Rank:[/b]
[b]Blood Type:[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b]
[b]Backstory:[/b]

[b]Comments:[/b]



Please read my initial note. I will not decline applications.
I will merely assign you the role you're worthy of. The aforementioned application only details a background wherein the person JOINED the BoS and explains no history of the aforementioned's membership in the organization or expanding upon how they achieve Paladin status. I may be coming off as harsh, but I have strict standards and I do not take schlock from people who think they deserve to be my commanding officers/highest ranking people.
I will, in detail explain exactly what I want in an application if you so need it.
This is not directed at anyone in particular.


WHAT I WANT

A concise and intriguing history of your character
The description of how you joined the BoS
The tale of how you became a rank higher than Apprentice.
Good articulation.
A wide vocabulary (optional)
Strong grammar
An original story.
Unique, memorable characters.
Unique, memorable characteristics.
Descriptions of your unique and memorable character.
If higher than an Apprentice -  A rich detail on how they are, currently, in the organization. (Are they cruel but always win? Are they lighthearted but get the job done, eventually?)

WHAT I DO NOT WANT
Bad Grammar (Ex. He did went go)
Static characters
Cardboard Soldiers (Ex. Every war movie ever)
Copied stories/Stories that are EXTREMELY similar
Bland, boring characters
Needless Repetition (ex. "HE WENT...  AND THEN HE.... AND THEN HE.... AND THEN HE.... AND THEN HE...." [Poetic repetition is fine.])
Bad math. (Not too important.)
Stories that only explain how you joined.
Stories that only explain your rank.

If I dislike your application, I will tell you how to improve it. If I think it's beyond help, I'll just ignore it.

As I've witnessed my consistantly updated post has gone to waste, I've constructed a "Grading" criterion.
The grades are as follows. The best possible grade is 5.

5 - Perfect Application

  • Application shows perfect grammar and no spelling errors.
  • Application demonstrates a mastery of the language.*
  • Application explains the method of indoctrination to the Brotherhood in vivid details and with a creative story.
  • Application explains the method of promotion through the Brotherhood's ranks with avidity and originality.
  • Application vividly explains how/why the applicant was chosen for service in Ohio.
  • Application shows signs of moderate dedication, determination and/or devotion to the brotherhood.

4 - Excellent Application

  • Application shows near perfect grammar and has few spelling errors.
  • Application demonstrates a strong knowledge of the language.*
  • Application explains the method of indoctrination to the Brotherhood in detail and with a good story.
  • Application vividly explains how/why the applicant was chosen for service in Ohio.
  • Application explains the method of promotion through the Brotherhood's ranks with originality.
  • Application shows signs of enough dedication, determination and/or devotion to the brotherhood.

3 - Appreciated Application

  • Application shows fairly good grammar and has 3-5 spelling errors.
  • Application demonstrates a good knowledge of the language.*
  • Application explains the method of indoctrination to the Brotherhood in some details and with a story.
  • Application explains the method of promotion through the Brotherhood's ranks.
  • Application explains how/why the applicant was chosen for service in Ohio.
  • Application shows signs of nearly enough/very nearly too much dedication, determination and/or devotion to the brotherhood.

2 - Winnowing Application

  • Application shows limited grammar and has 5-10 spelling errors.
  • Application demonstrates a hindered knowledge of the language.*
  • Application explains the method of indoctrination to the Brotherhood in with decent story.
  • Application tries to explain the method of promotion through the Brotherhood's ranks.
  • Application tries to explain how/why the applicant was chosen for service in Ohio.
  • Application shows signs of almost enough/almost too much dedication, determination and/or devotion to the brotherhood.

1 - Petulant Application

  • Application shows severely limited grammar and has 10+ spelling errors.
  • Application demonstrates seriously limited knowledge of the language.*
  • Application poorly explains the method of indoctrination to the Brotherhood.
  • Application doesn't explain the method of promotion through the Brotherhood's ranks.
  • Application barely explains how/why the applicant was chosen for service in Ohio.
  • Application shows few/excessive signs of dedication, determination and/or devotion to the brotherhood.

0 - Troll Application

  • Application shows no or extremely limited grammar and has grossly excessive spelling errors.
  • Application demonstrates no knowledge of the language.*
  • Application doesn't explain the method of indoctrination to the Brotherhood.
  • Application doesn't explain the method of promotion through the Brotherhood's ranks.
  • Application doesn't explain how/why the applicant was chosen for service in Ohio.
  • Application shows ridiculously stupid amounts of dedication, determination and/or devotion to the brotherhood. This can be either very low or very high.

*An exception will be made for persons who maintain English as a secondary language.

Q&A

Q. Will you help with Grammar?
A. Sure!

Q. How about Lore issues?
A. Hell yeah!

Q. Will you write my entire application?
A. Almost.

Q. Are you a jerk?
A. Sometimes.

Q. What's this shit about grades?
A. If you get a 0-1, you can get an Initiate.
If you get a 2, you can be an Apprentice.
If a 3, you can be a Knight or a Scribe, or a Guardian if you're lucky.
A four? Paladin.
Five? Senior Paladin. I might even step down for your sake.


Q. How awesome must the grammar be?
A. I don't expect 5-star crystal-clear English, but it should be readable and have flow.

Q. I think my story is really similar to...
A. Don't worry about it. If I notice it, I'll tell you how to mix it up a little.

Q. What's a cardboard soldier?
A. Ever seen an Army Movie? How there's that one guy who's a tough badass and eats nails and shits bricks? You can't be him. There's too many of him out there. I shouldn't even need to deter this behavior in this community.

Q. Are you really grading this?
A. Yes, really.

Q. I'm not a very good writer....
A. It's okay! Still try! I'm almost always willing to help you write your application!

Q. Shouldn't people have to apply for an initiate rank so they can be trained and become a knight?
A. Yup


Q. I don't know about.....
A. Ask me about it!

Q. I hate you.
A. Mutual feelings, comrade.

(Ask a question and it will be put here with response.) :cross: :cross:

andrewhatesyou

#1
OOC Name: andrewhatesyou/ lHGNlBOB DOLE
Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:29152112
Time with HGN: around 1 year
Time Roleplaying: 3 years
Reason you want to join: I would like to join because I had always RP'ed in Fallout 3 with the BoS like travel with them and shit. I have also been looking forward to FORP and would like to be in a faction so the server can have players on atleast each faction.




In Character Name: John Serio
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Age: 30
Applied Rank Senior Initiate
Appearance:
Backstory: John Serio, child to Brotherhood knight Ramon Serio and paladin Sarah Serio was born in a BoS outpost. John was nurtured with love and care untill he hit age ten. Thats when his training began, and he was immediately sent for training to become a knight. Not much is known of his life untill he became twenty. Thats when he received power armor and was sent on his first mission to clear a cave filled with raiders. The mission went successful and the scribe back at base praised him for it. A few hours later, he was told he should sign up for becoming a BoS.

Comments:

STALKER RP
Lt.Ivan Kutz-ALIVE-Military
Vladimir Kutz-ALIVE-Merc
FALLOUT RP
John Serio-ALIVE-Senior Initiate

Aresty

OOC Name: Aresty
Steam ID: Right, I'll put it later.
Time with HGN: 1 Year
Time Roleplaying: 2 Years or so.
Reason you want to join: I always liked the Brotherhood of Steel, in each game I was attracted by their technology.




In Character Name: Matthew Thompson
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Age: 30
Applied Rank Apprentice
Appearance: Due to the lack of food in the wasteland, Matthew is skinny but since he always had to travel and help people carrying stuff, he developed muscles too.
He haves green eye, from his father, and the brown hair from his mother. He is 6'2, taller than his parents. He doesn't have a long stamina, and could only run for some minutes before getting completely exhausted.
Backstory: Matthew was borned in the town of New Reno, he was a son of a bitch and some random person that forgot to take precautions. He was left on that alley, untill a wastelander took him away from there.
Matthew grew up while travelling around the wastes with his adoptive father, who teached him the rules of survival in the wastes and how to hunt creature as gecko's or molerats and eat their meat. Matthew didn't liked the meat from the creatures of the wastes, so most of the time he was startving to death, untill he had to eat it.


Alof of years passed, and the young Matthew arrived at the East Commonwealth, after many days. He arrived in a small town, named Yellowtown.
Matthew decided to rest here for some weeks, and see if he could earn some caps to buy supplies and some weapons. While searching for a job, a person comes toward him asking him if he was interested into joining a caravan that had to reach another town not far from their actualp position. Matthew accepted the job, and the next day they left Yellowtown and started to travel to the nord, with their merchandise carried by the brahmin.
Two days have passed, and the Caravan decided to stop and set up camp where they could rest. During the night,  Matthew went some miles away from the camp, to scout the surroundings, in the meantime at the small accampment was approached by a group of Raiders which assaulted the caravan and killing everyone in the process. When Matthew returned the first think he thinked about was to get the Loot. So he approaches the dead brahmin searching the heavy backpacks for items he could use.
Most of the stuff he finded were very important technology piecies, but he didn't knew that untill he found a letter where it explains that this important piecies had to be delivered at the Brotherhood of Steel in Ohio, not far from his position.


It took him some weeks to reach the BoS in Ohio, and while he approached the entrance, a couple of BoS Initiate's told him to get out of here. Matthew showed them the items that he was carrying, and so they let him pass. When they looked at the stuffh he brought, they decided to pay him a big sum, but he refused and instead asked to be recruited in the Brotherhood of Steel. Matthew was affascinated by the armor and the weapons they were holding, and it reminds him of the story his adoptive father told about him, about these " Knights " that wanted to help the Wastelands.
The BoS accepted Matthew's request, and so he started his training into the use of weapons and of the famous power armor. Most of the time he had to patrol the surrounding of the base or guard important rooms.

Comments:

Ragolution

Application Modified. Please adjust your applications accordingly.

Ragolution

Andrewhatesyou:  Approved.

Aresty: Pending; discussion required.

Ragolution

Aresty: Approved as Apprentice

I really do need some people to apply for knight/paladin. Paladin will be limited, Knight will not.
Scribes are also applicable.

Turkey

Fallout 3 Soundtrack - Way Back Home
OOC Name: Turkey
Steam ID: Fetching
Time with HGN: 1 year
Time Roleplaying: 3 years
Reason you want to join: I liked the way the BoS handled themselves. I would enjoy roleplaying



In Character Name: Sophia Karrie
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Age: 35
Applied Rank Paladin   
Appearance:
Backstory:
Sophia Karrie reluctantly stared down at the body of her old friend, James, who was covered in gunshots and blood. Sophia gulped, her back was leaned up against an isolated rock in the middle of the wasteland, she could hear bullets barely skimming the top of it. Infront of her, there were two paladins in glistening silver power armor, firing off there laser rifles to the threat before them. Their aim striked true, Sophia heard a loud scream from behind her. She wished she could suck up the courage to fight again, and she knew she had to, she gripped the side of her weapon and closed her eyes.

Sophia Karrie was born into the Brotherhood at The Dome. Her parents, Madison Silverstone and Greggory Karrie, were in their late twenties when they had Sophia. They both thought and sometimes exchanged their opinions on what Sopiha's name should've been for a long time. They decided to pick a name from a list of deceased members of the Brotherhood and found one they liked. The woman they used the name from was an old friend who died in battle. So, after almost two weeks of being 'no name', the newborn was called by the name of Sophia Karrie
Her father and mother's high standing position guaranteed her position in the brotherhood, Being as her father was a paladin, And her mother a scribe.

Sophia usually kept to herself. Infact, when she was eight, the only real friend he enjoyed being around was James. James and Sophia enjoyed sharing stories paladins would bring back from patrols, they would also sometimes sneak glances of some scavenged technology. James would draw a picture and Sopiha would make a creative name for it, usually underlined beneath the picture. James became bored of drawing pictures after a while, and when his assignments begun to take up most of his time, he finished making child art.

This disappointed Sophia, but she got over it a short while later. Most of her time was dug into working as an apprentice in the Brotherhood also. When Sophia reached the dull age of thirteen, her and James didn't talk much.
When the time came that Sophia could patrol with paladins outside the base, she was mostly nervous. Her training had prepared her for any possible outcome that could happen, but she barely stepped outside to get some fresh air, its not like she was allowed to. And then, she became more uneasy when James was assigned to the patrol also, so Sohpia tried to act professional infront of him. But it wasn't long until he noticed sweat coming down the side of her face, she also saw it on Jame's face too. It was obvious they were both nervous at the time.

Although, it wasn't very long until Sophia and James calmed down. They walked outside the base for a good few minutesand everything seemed alright. There were the usual mutated insects, but the paladins crushed their heads and laughed to each other about it. Sohpia and James began to start a conversation too, having a good time like they used to It seemed like everything was coming back to normal, until the fatal sound of bullets struck James down.

Now, Sophia opened her eyes again. She reached out to Jame's body, bullets flying all around her, but most of them were focused on the paladins. Sophia grabbed a small bag off of the side of Jame's belt and snatched it away from his body. Inside of it, she pulled out the old notebook she and James used to draw and Shopia inside. Sophia suddenly felt angry, she shoved the notebook down the side of her protector and stood up. Raising her rifle to blow the brains off of the scum who did this to James. She sent a burst of rounds-Hardly considered a burst because she was just firing none stop- towards the group firing at them. Then quickly snapped  back down behind cover, Wiping the sweat from her brow. Sophia turned to the paladins when suddenly once announced, "Their dead." Sophia stood up. Her eyes darted over to the James, Then she felt a arm grab her shoulder, She looked to the right to see the paladin next to her "I am sorry".

After the attack, Sophia was suggested on a small reconnaissance mission. They where investigating a odd,think, black smoke rising from a area near The Airbase. It was Sophia and three others. One of them being Eliot Truman a knight Sophia once talked to.
After reloading ammo, Checking gear, They set out for the objective. It was a dull moment. No conversation, No combat, Absolutely nothing. When they neared the smoke, They saw a flipped truck, scrap metal from barrels,Everything was dead. Sophia gagged inside her helmet watching the senior knight inspect the area, When she heard a ghoul's roar. She quickly informed the others she heard it, The Senior Knight turned and gave them a seriously look, "Prepare for combat"
Sophia quickly unslung her plasma rifle when she noticed a glowing one coming down the hill from behind them. She pointed a said "Over there!" Followed by the glowing more multiple feral ghouls charged at them. They kept firing, reloading, firing. Eliot said, "I am outta' ammo!" Sophia quickly handed him one of her charge packs. Distracted by firing the senior knight was tackled by a feral ghoul, One of the junior knights fired at it and.. Well.. He exploded.

Sophia turned to the senior knight for a split second before her eyes darted back to a ghoul jumping on top of Eliot, A apprentice blew its brains out before Sophia could turn. She remembered another apprentice to the right of her, She turned to find the corpse of her old squad member, A ghoul managed to pull her helmet off and kill her. Sophia quickly put a blast into the ghouls face, Then stopped. Everything was silent for a second. Eliot got to his feet turning to her. They were the only two left. Eliot's leg was injured, Sophia told him to sit. She collected the holotags from the downed knights, And went to help Eliot. His leg was hurt, But he said he was 'okay'. Sophia wiped blood from her helmet taking a look at where the smoke was coming from. She noticed the remains of a wastelander who must have tripped over a mine and caused a chain reaction with a nearby truck. Sophia noticed a small embankment, And something she's never seen before.
  She returned to Eliot and helped him up. Returning to base, She reported the injured, dead, and handed in the holotags. She also reported what she had found.

After returning two days later with three scribes and a platoon of knights, she discovered the mighty power of an Artillery Railgun as the once-derelict weapon annihilated a then-irradiated vault.

Sophia was recommended by her father, Having a distinguished rank in the brotherhood, And the several scribes that were
satisfied by her loyalty and performance in and out of the field.


Comments: Extremely motivated to fight after death of close friend.

Ragolution

Turkey: Accepted

Only because I fucking love that song.
But no, yeah, that's a great application.
A few grammar issues aside...
I want to see more shit like this.
Seriously.
More applications like this.
No.
Really.
More.
The better your application is, the better your rank will be. Hahah.

Accepted as Senior Guardian

The pals are the readiest.
The gals are the steadiest.
The love the livliest.
The life the lovliest.
Waaay baa-aack hooome.

Comradebritish

Colours all up in this bitch, need to get the fuck out.
Suspiciously cheesy man sighted on east pier at 9pm.

Ragolution

Quote from: General Shepherd on 21-12-2010
OOC Name:
General Shepherd
Steam ID:
STEAM_0:1:26916486
Time with HGN:
Months, but have not been active.
Time Roleplaying:
Several Years.
Reason you want to join:
To improve my Fallout RP knowledge. As well as my knowledge of BoS. I also wish to improve my RP'ing skills, and meet new people. I want to join because I feel like this is the faction for me. It can give me a great start in HGN, and give me advantages to other servers, knowing more canon of BoS OOCly.

In Character Name: Silver Black.
Ethnicity:White
Age: 24
Applied Rank Path of Paladin- Paladin.
Appearance:White

CONDENSED

Declined

ACCEPTED AS JUNIOR INTIATE

Your application has yet to prove you as another rank. This is not even close to Paladin-worthy.

Dragon

OOC Name:
Headcrabs
Steam ID:
STEAM_0:0:19286320
Time with HGN:
1 year, 3 months.
Time Roleplaying:
2 years.
Primary Language:
English.
Reason you want to join:
Because, Its the Brotherhood of Steel, I wish to join as I prefer the faction over any other.
(Truthfully, that is.)




In Character Name:
Dominic Schuller
Ethnicity:
Causican
Age:
26
Applied Rank
Path of the Paladin-Knight
Appearance: 5'11, Black hair, Blue eyes, has a goatee.
Backstory:
Dominic's backstory will begin from his age of 26, an average childhood will be uninteresting, and I do not want to pull the cliché bullshit into this story, so 26 is a reasonable age to start from, from his actual age and how he encountered the Brotherhood of Steel.

As you have probably sussed out already, my name is Dominic, Dominic Schuller if you wanted to have it exact, but most of my friends just call me 'Dom', it's just more preferable that a full, formal name.
My story begins in a tent, that's right..
A tent.
My life wasn't confined to the cold steel walls of a dark vault, or the high walls of an encampment, my life consisted of a small room with cloth walls and my fathers ol' double barrel shotgun.
Of course, as suicidal as it may seem, it actually was a rather cosy life, but rather irritating when I was awoken with a loud bang and sound of a splattering mutant all over my tent, washing it in irradiated water was not my best of interests.
Ah, yes, the explosions.
You see, I am a pyrotechnic, but not for the fancy fire and shit, I hate that.
I had a shipment of mines in my tent, High explosive ones, yes, I am the one for the massive bangs that a mine or rocket makes when it strikes a mutant or raider, and the sound that ensues.

Moving on away from my professions, yeah, I loved my home, tent, shotgun.. MINES, it was a good life.
It very commonly got boring though, and tiring, I was constantly on the move with my mines and tent, for new areas which were hopefully quieter.

So yeah, skip forward about settling in about 4 more times,  I settled into a nice new area, rather clear, I was on a hill with dry ground, perfect for digging up places for mines.
I set down the mines on the first day, then rolled on the nights of constant fun, I would wake up to the sound of a boom, and guess what the mutant was by the cry it made, such fun it was.
Then came that one night, how I met the supermutants and the brotherhood of steel.

Clear sky for such a cold night, my tent was warm by a small campfire outside, I slept close to my shotgun as per usual, incase anything did make it through and tried to take a bite off of me.
I had drifted off rather early, after picking out shrapnel from some meat to cook later.
Yes, I call hunting with mines, sport, and that's the reward of the sport, food.
How else am I supposed to get about?
So yeah, I finished preparing some food for cooking later, looking around some more, I saw a small, deteriorated building, rather close to my camp.
This was highly unusual at the time, I had almost never came close to a building on my own before, my father would of always told me to stay out of them, they could collapse at any time.
Heck, if I saw him today, of which he is still alive today, of course, he would say the same thing, only god may know why.

So yes, I see a glowing light in the distance of the night, a small band of humanoid figure looking people.
I shrink back into my tent, and get under the cover of my bed, preparing myself to be amused by the pathetic cries of another raider.
Sadistic, right? They deserve it, cockholes...
But, the noise they made was different, the boom echoed as the footsteps came close to the small pin coming from the ground.
An inhuman sounding cry shouted out, one that I have never heard before in my life, it was one that sounded as if it was bound and choking, but that might of just been the fact that it was in shock, but no..
I peered out of the tent, shotgun at hand, I saw green people.
Not aliens, but the rumoured and fabled Supermutants.
I saw one had its lower body blown off, its guts spilled all over the floor, a common sight.

The stories I have heard of such things put me on edge, I couldn't risk it..
I pulled back into the tent, and opened the shotgun, grabbing two heavy shells, slug rounds, if a mine didn't kill it, they would.
I jammed the shells into the shotgun, before closing it with a loud snap, and then turning the safety off.
I peered around the corner, and aimed the shotgun at the one who had been downed, "Aim for the head." I always told myself, 'least pain for anything.
I had pulled the trigger, and my eyes snapped to the dismembered supermutant, it's head split open, the SLUG round went through its skull, and out the other end, flooding its friends with a flurry of brain and blood, atleast.. I think it was.

Actually, I didn't have time to think at all.
I quickly re-aimed, and fired another slug at another of them, it slammed it straight through the gut, it collapsed, bleeding from the wound and from every other orface from it's fucking green mass of fuck-knows-what.

Then, I realised I wasn't the only thing with a gun, they fucking unleashed hell upon me, I took to the other side of the hill they were on, if I were a good artist, id make something on paper to show you what it was like, but anyway.
Remember that building I mentioned, all I could hear was, "Bang, bang, bang, bang" in a slow fashion, but each shot that landed on the other side of the hill, I could fucking feel it through the ground, it detonated afew mines on that side as well, I know that feeling.

About, say... 5 hours later, I had summed up the courage to peer over the hill, I had saw people in weird suits, brandishing weapons I have seen only the rich ever have a dream of carrying.
"Did you see him anywhere?", one of them said, I could assume Him was referring to me, and I did.
I called out to them, in hopes that they would answer.
They all aimed their guns at me, I almost shat myself, I swear, after all that shit, there was not a mine left and they just advanced up to the remains of my tent.


I crawled up, and put the shotgun before me first.
I said I was unarmed, one of them grabbed me and hauled me to my feet.
"We will be taking your mine supply and your shotgun as a payment, you owe the Brotherhood."
Confusion overtook me, the Brotherhood of Steel?
I had to take an opportunity, they would leave me with nothing, or I could atleast try and get myself in the Brotherhood, I can see they like explosives.
I mentioned to the patrol that I knew where a stash of Mines were, my reserve stash, I always plan ahead.

We travelled abit, to a teddy bear, sat on a cross.
That's how I marked the stash, there are quite afew I have left across the wasteland I think.
Anyway, I dug it up, handed it to them, and I mentioned that I knew where even more were.
They REALLY liked explosives.
Anyway, I stated I was a Pyromaniac, told them the story I am telling you now, and well, they took me to their HQ, they said they were in need of someone who had an idea of how to use explosives without blowing their arm off.
I didn't take them literally, almost anyone can use a mine, but it takes a smart one to put it where enemies cannot expect it.
So, in offer of my services and tech, I joined the Brotherhood.

They took me to an encampment of theirs, such a new life to get used to, I could see that there were other "Initiates" that were in training, they were in a series of exercises, in a formation, the radio blared out, familiar music, can't remember the exact song at the time, but I can definitely say that the Drill Instructor overwatching was certainly louder than the radio, he would have to be I guess.
I continue looking around the plaza as I walk on, following the group infront of me, the ones that "Saved" me.
I can see more initiates, these particular ones shooting and using explosives, hand grenades..
It is easy to depict when someone is being an ass with a grenade, and I could easily see that these lot were not too serious with them, they were throwing them inn efficiently at the time.

I've noted that in my travels, when I see someone who is fucking around with explosives, acting like a complete, utter ass, It agitates me, I guess it could be like a philosopher trying to explain the meaning of life to a robot, the latter does not understand the the former gets pissed off because of it.

So, moving on, enough of me, onto the story of me.
I was taken into a building, a steel building to be precise, if I was to note down every single perfection about it, I would probably just save time by calling it their HQ, it had a flag and a radio tower, whats more to a HQ then that fancy tower?
I was placed outside an office, I had to compliment them, the cold steel chairs really went with the cold steel walls and cold steel doors, what is it with these guys and their obsession for Steel?

I couldn't really hear much inside of the building, as I said, it was steel, unless I purposely placed my ear on the wall and tuned in, I doubt I would of heard much, unless my memory is foggy and I did.
So, a man clad in armour comes out and presents me with a uniform, I had almost presumed by then that it meant...
"Your in boy, don't let us down."
It's the first thing he said to me as well, read my thoughts he did.

I carried on along the Plaza, it all felt out of place, this was a feeling to get used to, it wasn't going to be simple no more.
It felt as if eyes were staring at me, things were being whispered about me, I didn't know, and I still don't, but maybe I was just nervous at the time.

Proceeding onwards, I made it to the barracks, I found out that these guys actually have a nice bed to themselves, and I would be getting one of these beds, it felt, ALOT, better than the sleeping bag I have known for afew years.
Getting to sleep that night was piss hard, typically, the other recruits were making a racket, I was not used to sleeping around other people, but I got used to it eventually.
The day after being inducted into their ranks, albeit how low mine may be, training began.

I will only describe what the first day was like, now imagine that first day, and put it into, say.. two months of the same grind all over again.
The door to our barracks slides open, the man clad in armour steps forward, and shouts out in a harsh manner,
"Initiates, get on your feet, no time for beauty sleep, move!"
Perfect way to give the first impression, I must say, props to the Drill instructor.

And so it began, we were ordered to be dressed exactly 40 seconds after getting out of bed, and if you got it wrong, you would do it all in your PJs, luckily, not even I, the new guy, the "Green as grass", got that wrong, I didn't dare to, nobody did.
After dressing, it was a nice 15 minute jog around the base, just to limber up for the day's exercises.
Typically, a jog doesn't hurt, 15 minutes isn't bad, the blazing sun is what does most of the initiates in.

After the jog, they didn't really want to waste time, they ordered us to start doing pressups, 5 seconds after we finished jogging.
I noticed that the first time or so you did pressups, you counted how many you did in your head, the next day, you tried to beat that.
I think it's a psychological effect or something, but to beat a goal you set yourself feels damn nice, and you aim higher, and you can do more.

Moving on from the Morning, its generally just talking and having a break, until the time hits one in the 'noon, then the time schedule picks up for the initiates.
I was in Group D, we would be doing more physical exercise for one hour, guns for two, then explosives for one, then medical for half an hour, then we would pack in for the day.

First day shook me alot, it was alot to take in at one time, if you ever try something new and you do not approve of it, you most often abandon it.
A good example of this is language.
The Brotherhood of Steel made me feel like this on the first day, I wanted to quit, I didn't like it, but I couldn't.
So I did what I was now bound to do, I trained, I paid attention, in hope that one day, I can put it to good use.
It payed off.


So, count up all that stuff in one day, for 2 months, I went through it all, the minor fuck up set me back, but nothing major, and no PJ incidents, luckily.
I finally got off as an initiate, and put up as an Apprentice after my second month in the Brotherhood of Steel, whilst I was an initiate, I learned who they were and what they did, what they were for, and who they fought.
And I have to say, I have learned to live by their ways, no matter how hurtful they may be, I agree with most of their terms, if not, all of them.

Ah, the apprentice rank, a title that is given through time, dedication and effort.
I aimed to please my instructors, and by god, I think I did.
It was just a run-of-the-mill test, I'm going to describe a specific date where they gave the apprentices a gun, some grenades and some cardboard cutouts to shoot.
I am not going to deny it, the test was fun, but it was also serious, I had to try my best, but I knew I could relax abit, it was just cardboard.

I regret letting my guard down, I think it may of severely impacted their decisions on me, but the rest of the test went fine, here's how it went.
It began in a trenchlike setting, small caverns, with the scribes and paladins overlooking me, observing my actions.
I proceeded forward with caution at first, yet to be caught in the heat of the moment, clutching the assault rifle in my hands tightly, I was very nervous, I knew I had to make the best impression I could at the time.

First mutant cutout popped up, I think I almost ran to cover, scared from the sudden movement of a fucking radroach.
My jumping reaction made me dive to the ground, and aim at the little cutout, but I heard the initial reaction made afew of the observers chuckle at my moment of fear, but that's irrational, it popped up with a loud bang, of course I was going to jump.
So, I put some holes in it using the assault rifle, and moved on, knowing I just made the shittiest start ever to a test.
Moved on, turned afew corners, then my next opponent came up, rather easy to spot, there just happens to be some log cover positioned randomly.

I shrugged it off, and aimed the Assault rifle, when something caught my trigger finger, and made me drop the rifle into the muddy ground below.
Quickly, I moved to cover and noticed a round mark on it, from a BB pellet, of course..
I pulled a grenade from my pocket, and pulled the pin, starting a countdown.
Then I waited..


I threw the grenade, trying to land it to the right of the supermutant cutout, but the fuse was too short, it detonated as it bruised the arm of the cutout.. but a result is a result.
The arm was gone, and the cutout fell down to it's starter point.
Fuck me, that's right, I was also being timed.
I had to sprint back to the start, so I grabbed my rifle and started to haul ass all the way back, ducking and weaving through the bog and muddy soil.

Lucky me, I passed.
The group of observers had called me to an office in the HQ of theirs, I complied and was taken inside the office to meet the Head paladin.
He offered me a promotion, two infact, to the Knight position, if I took up an offer of his, to be transferred, along with some others, to a new base.
Knight rank for me, I think my training will keep me safe, it hasn't let me down thus far.
Maybe though, this sector may be worse than the last.
There's a phrase to match, but I can't seem to remember it.
Ah well.


Comments: Put some effort into the story, I hope you like it.
1266 words in the backstory, my fingers hurt.
Probably more now.
2811 to be precise.
"Is it just me, or have peoples' hands been growing out of their asses lately?"

Dragon

"Is it just me, or have peoples' hands been growing out of their asses lately?"

Ragolution

APPLICATION REPORT CARD


Applicant: Headcrabs
Rank: Knight
Application No.: 4
Grade: 2.95


Features:

  • Tells most parts of the entire story.
  • Mostly original.
Flaws:

  • Lacks certain acuity.
  • Rushes through phases of story.
  • Doesn't explain how or why the person was sent to the outpost.

Pass

Approved Rank: Junior Knight

Faxxon

OOC Name: Alex Smith
Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:0 00:05 19
Time with HGN: Two or three days so far.
Time Roleplaying: Roughly four years of experience on and off.
Primary Language: English
Reason you want to join: I've been a fan of roleplay in general but post-apocalyptic roleplay is where I want to be, I can be creative and imaginative outside "modern copies" of real world roleplay. The Brotherhood of Steel were one of my most favoured factions in the Fallout series; close second being awarded to the Enclave. Both have regimental structures that follow a strict chain of command and I feel better suited to following orders to begin with than giving them. Joining a faction allows me to craft a purpose for my character and gives me people to roleplay and work with as a team, instead of being stranded and wayward on my own.




In Character Name: Peter Valarian
Ethnicity: African-American
Age: Thirty-Two years.
Applied Rank Initiate
Appearance:

Facial:

Darkened Complexion
Rough dark stubble reaching from under the nose area down to base of chin
Brown Eyes
Thick, Dark eyebrows
Neatly trimmed, short black hair, gel or grease is normally used to define hair.


Body:

Roughly 6'1 in height
Looks around 170lb's
Toned, athletic body.
Three small scar's on left thigh, appearance resembles scratch marks.


Backstory:

Valarian was exposed to rather abnormal life as a child compared to other town dwellers. Born into a family of six consisting of mother, father, one sister and two brothers. The family were settled into one of the least populated towns of Ohio; Lakewood. The family were poverty stricken and reduced to fishing from the polluted and corrupted waters of the fishing lake that resided next to the damp and rotting wooden shack. The eldest brother, Tyrone, was the more dependant father figure in Valarians childhood. His biological father was always away either hunting or protecting the family from mutant danger. Valarian was instructed by Tyrone on professions and practises that were symbolic to the family including survival techniques (ranging from fishing, knowledge on where to look for supplies and situational awareness) and basic medical expertise (bandaging, cleansing and stitching).

Every sibling was forced to leave the homestead at age fifteen, the shack was much to small to cope with existing family members and coming ones. Valarian was born before his brothers and sisters he spent most of his time from age seven and upwards practicing and perfecting his already taught techniques to survive. Valarian was not a robot though, he would not just perfect his taught abilities he would teach himself new ones, one of the most important skills Valarian learned through study and observation was to read and write and from the age of nine he began to document his discoveries in his trusty journal. The journal was a plain leather black, tattered and crusted around the edges. Rusted metal fasteners secured each edge of the front cover, sharp enough to slice into the skin. Some of the pages were torn, varying colors of tapes now persist through the book to bind each page together.

Diary Page 4 - The Fishing Hole - Aged: 9 and one half

the watering hole is looking much more dirty than it usually does. mummy tells me that i need to stay away from the edges so that i dont fall in. i swear i saw a fish today in there as it was swimming and darting about it looked like an arrow and had silver scales that shone brightly in the sunlight. its lonely not having anyone to play with anymore as my brothers and sisters have gone. we used to play soldiers in the broken forest nearby. i always wanted to be the commander but tyrone said he was the eldest and he had to be the commander and always made me a soldier. i hope when i get a bit older i can be the commander and everyone else will be my soldiers and i will fight all those mutants that want to hurt everyone all the time. daddy says im just being stupid thinking i can fight them all off but i dont believe him. i will write in here again when i want to maybe when im a bit older and i learn some more words

peter


Diary Page 42 - Killing for'a meal & Horrific Discovery - Aged: 28

It's just amazing what you see as years progress. I just witnessed two wastelanders fighting over a tub of irradiated InstaMash, I thought it was pathetic until one of them pulled a .357 from their shirt and shot the other dead but not before checking his corpse for valuables. There needs to be some order installed to this wasteland but I sure don't trust those military jarheads of the Enclave to do the job right. I'm weary of those Brotherhood guys too but they seem to be doing some good out here, I guess everyone's just getting a little more desperate day in day out. I guess I'm playing soldiers for real now, a medical pouch slapped around my waist and a AKS-501 slung over my shoulder I managed to wrestle off some deranged cultist and some leather armor crafted from the skin of a Brahim.

The news never gets better as the day progresses, I found one of my sisters today. Evidently she was murdered by a blade, some portions of her clothes were missing so I assume she was raped before she was killed. I had ran into no one on the way there and I couldn't see anybody so I will have to pitch the blame on raiders, it gave me a shocking reminder of the environment I was in and the danger I was putting myself into by wandering around. I embraced her body and closed her eye lids before digging a crude hole and burying her. I couldn't say anything, I just bawled and sobbed with my knees firmly in the ground. I'm going to need some time to think about my options so I refuse to create another entry to this diary for a significant while...  I suppose its time to pick a side.


Valarian followed traditions set by his parents. He fled the homestead at aged fifteen like his brother and sisters before him. He continued to document his findings day by day in order to better understand the environment and the people in it, it was his finest self remarked survival tool that allowed him to log positions, co-ordinates, observations and actions. Valarian over the current thirty-two years of his life was unable to find a comfortable enough residence to settle down in and continue living; instead hes been roaming and wandering, counting the days hes been alive and savoring the gratitude of each one, personally amazed how far a rifle and a bag of collected bottle caps could get you.

Comments:

- The diary entries are intended to contrast as a sign of growing in age improves the characters intelligence and knowledge of the English language and how hes gaining a better understanding of how the world works.
- The diary entries are the meatier part of the backstory because there will be a lot of them, and I will try and write as many as possible to illustrate the characters experiences; however those are just the few I wrote so far, they are rather brief and rough.
- Overall, I'm not great when it comes to back stories and prefer the method of other players questioning my character and unlocking his history in-character.
- I did spend a good amount of time on my application and this was the end product; normally I can write creatively consistently though I do suffer from "writers block" an awful lot.
- Cheers!

Ragolution

You really want to join as an initiate?
I feel you could be applying for Paladin, here.
Okay... Well... All that considered....

APPLICATION REPORT CARD


Applicant: Faxxon
Rank: Initiate
Application No.: 5
Grade: UNSCALED :: 3.75


Pass

Approved Rank: Initiate

Maxi96203

OOC Name: Nomad (Pedobear)
Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:27041131
Time with HGN: 2-4 Months
Time Roleplaying: 1 Year
Primary Language: English
Reason you want to join: I think it would be cool to be a BoS member.




In Character Name: Jacob Smith
Ethnicity: American Caucasian
Age: 28
Applied Rank Initiate
Appearance: Minus the NCR Uniform
Backstory:
Early Life
Jacob Smith was born in the former state of Indiana under a caravan that called themselves "The Legendary Merchants." Jacob was the only child of his parents. The caravan was very rich and successful, but most of the caps where not given to the workers, but the owner. Jacob accepted that his life would be hard work with little reward, and he knew that if he didn't pull his weight, he would be left to die, and pulled his weight he did. He worked hard, and earned what he got. His two closest friends, the caravan guards, taught him with weapons in the caravans downtime. He used his knowledge with guns to become a guard at the age of 15. His weapon of choice, a shotgun, was what he used most. He guarded his caravan from hostile soldiers, mutants, and wild animals. During his time with the caravan hew spent his down time firing at rocks or playing a card game known as "Caravan."

Ransacked
At the age of 18 Jacob used enough weapons that he was a good aim with them, and an efficient killer. Little did he know the greatest tragedy of his life was approaching, fast. On a cool day in the bluegrass wasteland, a legion of raiders came to ransack the caravan. The caravan guards took up arms quickly, but not quick enough. The manager of the caravan took a bullet to the head. The others followed. The remaining members of the caravan, amongst them the smith family, hid behind the dead brahman, arming themselves with what they could. Quickly he took up arms, using his tactics to kill the raiders, the only survivors of the battle where him and his parents, the raiders lie dead or injured horribly on the road. He took what little ammo and money he could salvage from the dead, and wandered further into the wasteland.

Bluegrass
As he wondered through bluegrass, a shotgun in his hand. He stumbled upon a small settlement, in which he traded with the merchants, and bought himself a drink. He wasn't drunk, but his thoughts where clouded. He stumbled out of the bar, there he saw men in shiny armor, the brotherhood of steel. Whispers where circulating around about these men. That they where good with there guns, and didn't bother wanderers to much. He put his shotgun in its improvised sling and moved towards them, he needed a purpose, and he always wanted to tinker with technology. He was detained and taken to the elder. The elder saw him fit, and he was accepted as a initiate.

Comments:
ASSHOLE DESCRIPTION FOR PREMIUMâ„¢ HGNâ„¢ SUBSCRIBERSâ„¢ ONLY

[INVICTUS]

OOC Name: Koi
Steam ID: STEAM_0:1:12393053
Time with HGN: 10 months roughly
Time Roleplaying: About 2 years, give or take a month.
Primary Language: English
Reason you want to join: We need more scribes.


In Character Name: Bethany Clayworth
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Age: 29
Applied Rank Scribe

Appearance: Of short stature yet still fit despite most of her time is spent reading, has shoulder length dark brown chesnut hair usually coiled up into a bun, light brown eyes, and has somewhat of a distracted look most of the time whenever anyone sees her.

Backstory: Bethany was born in a camp right off of Lake Huron in Michigan, there were very few residents in the camp, and most spent their time fishing on the docks of the Port of Hope. The growing child spent very little time with her parents, and wandered the camp for hours in her early years while they went out and scavenged the ruins. During most of this time, the child became notorious for liberating books and manuscripts people owned, it seemed they would always be missing for less than a week before turning up back where they were and that child always seemed to have an appreciation for the knowledge held in the books, most were junk but still she would spend her daylight hours reading them. Of course, when she was old enough she accompanied her parents out of the camp to scavenge the nearby ruins for anything of value, most of the time almost being left behind everytime she found an intact book in places her parents had already picked through.

In fact, they had been picking through the ruins so long there was hardly anything left that they could use, it didn't suprise her one day to wake up and find them gone taking everything except her along with them. They never took the books though, piled in several stacks, some knocked over from her parents leaving in a hurry, and when she cleaned them up she found some type of harness for the forearm with a cracked screen reading Pip-boy 2000. It was an amazing find once she figured out what it was, yet the battery was almost bone dry and the large crack across the screen didn't help, for the most part she kept it off to conserve the power until she could find a fission battery to set up on a trickle charge.

She never did get to find that battery as a group of figures clad in greyish silver power suits walked into the town, glancing around at the silent individuals they saw occupying the place. It was a while before a man with balding white hair with a long red robe walked into the town and started talking to everyone in the camp, she was too far away to hear what he was saying, it didn't take long for him to start making his way down until he saw her. "Hello child, I am Senior Scribe Lazarus." Said the man, Bethany paused for a moment, and then picked up the pip-boy she had found "Do you know how to fix the screen on this.. pip-boy?" She asked nervously as she looked down at the lettering on the pip-boy to make sure shewas saying it right. The old man gently reached out and took the damaged piece of technology from her and spoke "Yes dear, I do as do many others I know. But do you know how?", she shook her head.

The man took another look at the pip-boy, and then kneeled down to her height. "Now child, how would you like to learn how to not only fix this, but make others like it, hmm.. how does that sound to you?" asked the scribe, it didn't take much prompting on his offer of knowledge she couldn't possibly learn on her own. From that day on she accompanied the Senior Scribe wherever he went, learning along the way as they traveled back to their base. And according to the scribe she was just about old enough to begin training as an initiate. The next day she started her training as an initiate, and over a course of several years she moved on to apprenticeship under Senior Scribe Lazarus following the path of the scribe under the order of the shield.

Her first days as an apprentice were spent toiling away repairing the armor of a lucky few guardians and paladins under the watchful eye of Senior Scribe Lazarus, and a few times managed to improve the effectiveness of a few units of power armor. The rest of the time she wasn't trying to prove herself to become a scribe she took pleasure in reading all of the public files and information that was available on the terminals the scribes used. It was several months after her apprenticeship start that she was granted the right to become a Junior Scribe under the Order of the Shield. She stills thanks the now wizened senior scribe for having so much faith that she had enough potention to join the ranks of the scribes, she spent the next couple years under the Senior Scribe until he passed away in his sleep

Finally, she was chosen to embark on a journey not of her own electations but of Lazarus' suggestion. She was sent, with The Hammer's party, to start a new sect of the Brotherhood, in Ohio. Upon arrival, lacking scribes in general, The Hammer abruptly promoted her to Senior Scribe without giving her a legitimate reason.



Comments:


Ragolution

Derp derp derp

Ragolution

APPLICATION REPORT CARD


Applicant: Koi
Applied Rank: Scribe
Application No.: 7
Grade: 3.6


Features:

  • Original
  • Good Spelling.
  • I didn't get bored while reading it.
  • Provides decent reasons.
  • Pre-BoS story.
  • Initiation details.
Flaws:

  • Choppy use of commas, occasionally. Non-disruptive.
  • Area confusion.

Pass

Approved Rank: Senior Scribe

Reviewer's Comments:
Two errors to pick up on:

You said Michigan- That's very far away from "The Dome". It's not common knowledge, but The Dome is in the Northern Commonwealth, AKA South Dakota. I have to tinker with my backstory, but whatever.

Aside from that, actually, this application was a pleasure to read. I might weave Head Senior Scribe Lazarus into my the BoS backstory if I find it leisurely. So one error, really.

You are a senior scribe, so adjust your application a little.

Insert something like:

QuoteFinally, she was chosen to embark on a journey not of her own electations but of Lazarus' suggestion. She was sent, with The Hammer's party, to start a new sect of the Brotherhood, in Ohio. Upon arrival, lacking scribes in general, The Hammer abruptly promoted her to Senior Scribe without giving her a legitimate reason.

[INVICTUS]

Updated post. P.S.  Sorry for posting this late.

deluxulous

OOC Name: Deluxulous (PistolKid)
Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:9267027
Time with HGN: 1 year, 10 months (left at about 1 year, 4 months, came back dec. 23rd? 2010)
Time Roleplaying: Started August 2006, so about 4 years and 5 months?
Primary Language: English.
Reason you want to join: The Brotherhood of Steel are my favorite faction in the games, they are super badass, and they are fucking hardcore. Plus, T-51b power armor is sexy.




In Character Name: Kole Lasaves (Pronounced: kohl luhsayvz)
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Age: 26
Applied Rank Knight. If you suggest otherwise, I will edit my backstory to fit your recommendation.
Appearance: Kole is approximately 6'2" tall. He has long, dark brown, shaggy hair. He is of average weight, around 160 lbs. He has a good build, while not being "ripped" or "super strong", he is stronger and has more muscles than an average person. He has light tan skin.
Backstory:

BATMA KOLE BEGINS
Kole was born in 2208. He came out kicking and screaming, in the middle of a filthy shack, on top of a makeshift table constructed from scrap metal. Two men were standing next to the table. One, his father, Gary. The other, a doctor, simply named Pap. His mother was Harriet.
Now, the Doctor picked Kole up in his arms. "It's a boy,"  he said smiling. Gary beamed with pride, taking the infant in his own arms, showing his wife. They had decided on names already - he would be named Kole.

CAN TOWN, NORTH
His home was adequate, food and water were enough for everybody, and things seemed just fine. And they were, save for the occasional mutants or small raider gangs. The area now known as North Can Town (Previously North Canton, Ohio) seemed like the best place to be at the time. Can Town got it's name from the pre-war canning factory that resides there, which used to be the old Hoover Vacuum Cleaner headquarters.
The old canning factory served as the main shelter, and epicenter of North Can Town. In it's huge building and warehouse, there were shops, some crafters, a local law enforcement (Called "Regulators"), a makeshift hospital, bars, etc... You name it, it was probably there.
The rest of Can Town was almost purely residential. The park served as a housing area for all the families. The local YMCA was partially restored and used as a conditioning center for anybody who wanted it. And finally, of course, the city hall was used as a "government" facility.
The government of North Can Town is highly unimportant, as they actually did what they were supposed to and kept everything in check. That ends the controlled part of the small village - the rest of it is pure unorganized chaos. Wastelanders (Buckeyes, they were called by outsiders, because of the state's nickname) grabbed land and defended it with their lives. They did whatever they wanted with it - they farmed, growing food and selling it for caps, additional space for homes, even a playing field for sports was built.
And so was the environment that Kole grew up in.

FORTUNATE SON
Kole lived most of his childhood earning the appraisal of his parents and doing whatever he liked. Growing up in Can Town, he seemed to have no worries. He played outside with other children, he had three meals a day, his parents raised him well, and life was easy compared to most Wastelanders.
However, he had no idea of the lives that those "other" wastelanders were like. Outsiders were pushed away in Can Town, unless you were a merchant. School was also important to Kole - he loved it. Every day he would show up, hoping to learn new things. The school taught basic things like history, math, and English. There were also some other ones that we don't see today - Wasteland Survival, Mutant Anatomy, and Marksmanship to name a few.
Kole was one of the smartest kids that went to school - he was always the first one to raise his hand, to turn in a test, to finish his studies. His father had no intention of him becoming an intellectual, however. Gary would often take  Kole outside the village to hunt for mutants like mole-rats, giant ants, and frenzied dogs. Kole was lead to be an optimist, he always loved whatever he was doing. And he was great at doing whatever he did.
This life continued for years and years, but Kole never wanted it to stop.

"ALL GOOD THINGS MUST COME TO AN END"
When Kole was around the age of 24, his parents were growing old, as were most of the adults he knew as a child. Slowly, the people he grew up with started dying off. People would start disappearing, and news would get out that they died peacefully. Most of the time, this was the case.
Soon, new government and law enforcement personell were put in place. They began to follow the footsteps of their precedents, and things were well. One hazy morning, around 10:00 AM, things went bad. The small, local government was proved to be corrupt. They had been taking bribes from the richer families of Can Town to allow the hoarding of supplies, energy, and luxuries to themselves.
All of the villagers gathered in front of the City Hall to listen to their leader give a speech. "There is no acceptable apology I can give to the people of our town. What we have been doing is unforgivable, and we cannot repair what we have done. If you must revolt, let it be. But the loss of lives is completely avoidable here - we can come to a resolve peacefully if you allow it to happen."
The Regulators stood and watched. There were quite a few of them there - protecting the mayor, it seemed. Suddenly, all of them moved at once. They boxed in the entire crowd of the townsfolk. The mayor began to speak again. "Again, this can go down peacefully... unless you decide otherwise, we will continue with my statement." The mayor unfolded a piece of paper, and layed it on the podium set in front of him.
As he spoke, the townsfolk watched on in horror and disbelief as the mayor basically claimed ownership of everything in Can Town. People began to murmur. The murmur raised to a low roar as the people got increasingly angry, before they all began screaming at the mayor. "Now, now, ladies and gentlemen! No need to interrupt!" the mayor said. The crowd began trying to break outside the walls that the Regulators had formed around them.
A sharp crack echoed through the air, followed by a scream. A single Regulator stood there, a look of fear upon his face. Holding his bloodied baton shakily, he stared down at the unconcious woman at his feet. A crimson pool slowly spread from the woman's face. Everything was quiet.
Suddenly, everyone began screaming. People began attacking the Regulators, trying to overwhelm them. A deadly mistake. The Regulators not controlling the riots drew their sidearms, each of them firing warning shots. The panicked, distressed crowd grew even more out of control.
Townsfolk started using rocks as weapons, bashing the Regulators down and running free. And then they started shooting.

"WHEN ONE WAKES UP TO ANARCHY"
Kole woke up, hearing a multitude of sharp cracks in the distance. Opening his eyes wearily, he looked at the clock on the table next to him. "Damnit, I'm late," he thought to himself. The clock had never worked in the first place, but he could tell by the light shimmering in through the cracks of his hut that it was almost noon.
Rapidly, he got dressed. Searching through his broken refrigerator for something to eat, there were even more of the noises he heard when he woke up. Immediately, he recognized them. He stopped searching for food. There was only one thing that sounded like a  N99 10mm Pistol being fired, and that was an N99 10mm Pistol.
He stepped outside and began walking towards the City Hall. The gunshots continued to echo down the streets. He got to the road and looked down Main Street - and what he saw would scar him for the rest of his life. Buildings on fire, people running. People on the ground, dead. Blood everywhere. Total chaos. He almost went to find his parents.
Almost. But, even an optimist must face the facts. His parents' shack door was open, and their light was off. Nobody else was around the houses. Kole whimpered, and tears rolled down his cheeks. He backed away from the road, running back towards his shack. Survivors began entering the residential area as Kole arrived at his home, screaming and yelling.
Opening the door, Kole ran inside and grabbed his Brahmin-skin pack. He jammed the few articles of clothing he had, along with the sparsely equipped food in the refrigerator into the pack. He frantically searched the cupboards and cabinets, grabbing a set of silverware, a kitchen knife and some pots. Beginning to panick, Kole opened up a chest at the foot of his bed.
He examined the contents. A hunting rifle as well as 5 boxes of ammo, 10 rounds each. Gazing upon the rifle, he recoiled in horror at his thoughts. He couldn't kill anyone with this - it was against his nature. Deciding that the rifle would be useful otherwise,  he took it and left his home.

"ONE LIVES IN CHAOS"
Screaming. What he remembers most is the screaming. Everyone was screaming. Men, women and children all screaming. High pitched screams, primal roars. Gunshots. They came from everywhere.
Kole began sprinting for the exit of the city. But he stopped. He realized that the Regulators are too smart to let anyone escape - they would have blocked off the exits.
Running from the residential park, he ran to a row of dilapidated and ruined buildings - old shops, restaurants and apartments - and entered the first building. The buildings were all connected, or had the walls destroyed, making his escape easier. As he got the the last building, he kicked out the rotting door, emerging into daylight. There, in the wall. A small hole, covered by a loose piece of sheet metal.
Pulling the sheet metal aside, Kole shoved his pack through, then his rifle, and finally squeezing through himself. Now, it got dangerous. The rest of North Canton was already suicidal to go in alone. Raiders, ghouls, and rabid animals were everywhere. There was an old neighborhood area, completely lost during the Great War due to the houses' weak structuring - they were made mostly from wood and old concrete. It was a breeding ground for the most dangerous animals in the area. But there was an old grocery store he could go to there.
The other way lead out of town. Raiders often patrolled the roads, looking for caravans to loot. The Raider's main village was out that way as well. He decided to take his chances inside the grocery store. Moving quickly but silently, he moved towards the store. Going through backyards, searching through the destroyed homes, and hiding whenever a stray mutant would come along.
"God, I hope they don't smell me... I'm a walking buffet..." he muttered to himself. Kole saw the store. But, in front, he saw his dilemma. Three raiders in makeshift armor stood in the parking lot, arguing over the goods from the store. "You asshole, we agreed that we could keep what we found!" snarled one of the raiders. What appeared to be the leader of the raiders shot back a reply - "Yeah, we did. But you went and got everything in the whole fucking store! So now we gotta split it!"
"Like hell I will, you featherbrained hogfucker!" he yelled back. "I guess they don't pose much of a threat if they're going to tear at eachother's throats..." Kole thought. "I'll kill you ya stu-" he cut his sentence short as soon as he saw three radscorpions coming from behind the store. "Kill them, you idiots!" shouted the leader. They scrambled for the weapons they had left on the ground - the leader picked up his Combat Shotgun, and the other two raiders had bats. "Get them you fools!" The two underlings charged at one of the scorpions, beating it down. They killed it with ease. The two remaining scorpions surrounded them now.
"Oh God, do something already!" shouted the quiet raider, backing towards the wall of the store. The leader fired his shotgun at the scorpion nearest to him, but not before it skewered the greedy raider on the end of it's large stinger. His shotgun was more than enough of a match for the scorpion. The remaining raider took up his bat, swinging down at the scorpion's head. He was met with a stab in the chest and potent venom to boot.
Suddenly, the leader yelled "Son of a BITCH!" as he watched his comrade being torn apart. He aimed and fired. Click. Click click. He looked down at his shotgun, flabbergasted. He dropped it and started running away.
The radscorpion slowly drifted away from the scene. Kole, meanwhile, watching the events unfold, was horrified. Never before had he witnessed such a brutal scene. It was man versus nature, and nature had radioactive, mutant superstrength to aid it. Kole darted across the street and into the store. It was deserted, and there was food. Lots of food. After eating a banquet of TV dinners, Kole moved away from the neighborhood. It was going to be a long day.

THE LINES IN BETWEEN
The years between the first riots and now are relatively unimportant - he turned into a primal human being, just trying to survive. He slept alone in burned out houses, lean-to's, makeshift campsites, basements, etcetera. Never going anywhere, but never staying in the same place. He didn't know what he was looking for or what he was going to do.
Against his own nature, he started shooting and looting. He never killed innocent people - mainly just Raiders and other hostile wastelanders. Wanting to work on his own rifle, in the event of it falling into disrepair, he began to tinker with other weapons. Kole collected many tools during his days of survival, and he fixed up his own armor and weapons when they needed it.
Kole hadn't met many friends - until he came upon a small community. It was only two buildings, and there were only 6 people there. Kole became great friends with one of the men there - affectionately nicknamed Cracker Jack. Jack and Kole stayed for a few days, and Kole wanted to leave - so they did. They travelled together, and they both had the same problem. Rebels without a cause.
Jack had more experience than Kole in the wastes, so he knew quite a bit of stuff. After listening to Kole talk for a while, he suggested that he could try to find a military like group, called the Brotherhood of Steel. "It sounds perfect for you. I've seen 'em myself, only once or twice though. I remember 'em well though. They all had these big armor suits, and big laser weapons. They were basically fighting against everything bad in the Wastes. Sounds perfect for you!"
So, they talked and agreed that they would try to find the Brotherhood. And finally, for the first time in years, Kole had a mission.

FIRST CONTACT
Kole and Jack spent months asking caravans, merchants, and other friendly wastelanders about the Brotherhood. They found out a lot - but not where they could find them. Kole and Jack were more determined than ever to find the fabled rival to the Enclave.
One day, while at a temporary encampment, a strange man approached them. "I heard you were looking for the Brotherhood of Steel." The man spoke with a perfect accent, with perfect English. "Yeah, an' what if we was?" Jack said caustically. The stranger looked at Jack. "I deal in information," he said. "And I may have what you are looking for. It will come at a price, however." Kole spoke up. "I wanna know what kind of information we'll be getting first."
The stranger laughed. "Anything you want to know, I have the answers." Jack and Kole looked at eachother. "Fine, how much?" Kole demanded. "Three thousand caps." said the stranger. The two friends stared at eachother, dumbfounded. "That's almost all of our money!" Jack hissed.
"It'll be worth it, Cracker. Just calm down," Kole ordered. He grabbed three burlap bags that were tied to his pack that made a metallic jingle when it moved. "Here, three thousand. Exactly. One thousand a bag." The stranger smiled. "Follow me," he whispered. They followed the stranger some ways, behind a ruined building. He looked around for other people, and was content. "Ask away, he said."
After asking the stranger everything he was able to answer, they had one last question. "Where can we find the Brotherhood?" Kole finally asked."Go here." The stranger unrolled a map of  Ohio. He pointed to a spot that was highlighted. "Here. They have scouts that will see you from a mile away. Don't worry about them killing you - they have orders to capture you first."
"Thanks a bunch, mister," Kole said, walking away with Jack towards their destination.
********
Two days later, the duo neared their destination. A specific destination, no. It was a broad area - a small crossroads of sorts. Jack and Kole walked towards a barn near the road. Kole stepped through a partially destroyed wall, and looked around. There wasn't anything here. "Let's keep moving Jack, nobody's he-" Click. A gun pointed at his head. "You look pretty well equipped... lets say you give me all you got and I let you live," a harsh voiced snarled in his ear.
"Alright, just be calm. Let me put my things down. I'll walk over to that corner. And you can leave." Kole composedly said to the man behind him. Sliding his pack and old rifle to the ground, he put his hands in the air and sat down in the corner he indicated.
He watched as the man, who Kole could clearly see was a raider, searched through his pack. The raider was about to leave, when he heard the unmistakable sounds of laser weapons. The raider went outside, shouting at whoever else was with him. Guns started firing back at whoever was using the laser weapons. Kole started to sweat, and picked up the object he hoped was laying there. It was.
He got to the door, and hesitated. Could he really murder someone - even a raider - in a way this barbaric? Suddenly, the raider came back into the barn. He would have time to ponder his conscious later. Kole rammed the rusty pitchfork into the Raider's exposed stomach with a sickening slicing sound. Slowly pulling the farm tool out of the now dead man's midsection, the corpse dropped to the floor. Kole dropped the pitchfork, and grabbed all of his things. Soldiers clade in silver power armor were making quick work of all the poorly equipped raiders - not a single Soldier was even hit.
Kole was almost glad. He had finally made it. He found the Brotherhood of Steel. His hopes were quickly dashed. In the middle of the dirt road, his only friend lay dead. His head halfway blown off, there was blood everywhere. He almost passed out, had it not been for the cold hand that gripped his shoulder, he would have. A filtered, deep voice spoke to him. "State your purpose for being here."
Kole was panicking, and began to speak frantically. "Oh God, they killed him. Oh no! No, no, no!" The voice  talked to him again. "There's nothing we can do for him! Now why are you here?" Calming down, Kole responded. "We came to find the Brotherhood of Steel... we wanted to assist them, hopefully joining their ranks so that we could fight alongside them."
"Alright, bag 'im," the voice said. "Wha-," Kole started to speak as a sharp pain spread across his back. He fell to the ground, slowly losing the battle to fight his tiredness. And so he succumbed.

NEWBIE
Kole awoke in an enclosed room. He shook his head, but his vision was still blurry. "God damn..." he thought. Then, he coughed violently. His blurred vision wasn't helping his headache. Not that there was much to see, other than a door at the end of the room.
Suddenly, it opened and a man wearing an armor suit he saw earlier entered. "So, you want to be one of us." When he spoke, he had the same filtered, stuffy voice as the soldier he met earlier. "Well, it takes a lot to be 'one of us.' And frankly, I don't think you know what you're in for. Unless you do, and you think you're capable. You can either accept a life full of hardships and death, or we can kick your ass out and you don't have to let the bad men hurt you. So, now that I've layed out your options, what'll it be?"
Kole replied with a grunt, and started falling asleep again. The soldier slammed his fist on the metallic table that Kole was sitting at, leaving a dent in it. "Hey! Wake the fuck up!" he shouted. Kole sat up quickly, almost tipping over in his chair. He quickly responded, "I want to be with you guys!"
"Hmmph. Lucky for you, we need new recruits. From what they tell me, you can sort of handle yourself! Nice work with the pitchfork, if that story is even true! At least you hate Raiders... that's a plus... Anyways, you'll begin the initiation test tomorrow. If you pass, you'll be trained. And if you survive that, badoom bidow, welcome to the BoS. It's harder than it sounds. So don't get too cocky."
Kole nodded, and fell asleep.

ACCEPTANCE TO HELL
He was sick of it. Waking up feeling pain, hunger and fatigue. Ever since he first got here, it happened almost every monring. Initiates got treated like shit, too. Which would have been fine if everything else hadn't been stacked on it. The endless conditioning drills, crappy meals, and his Drill Sergeant yelling in his ear all day. He wondered why he bothered in the first place.
"Just one more week," Kole thought to himself. "One week and I can finally get some respect." Next week was the Initiates' graduation test. Kole felt like it couldn't come sooner - being a Knight was everything he had wanted from the start. The two months of training and conditioning would have to pay off - if he didn't pass, he would be set back and have to do it all over again.
The day passed by like any other day... running, push-ups, sit ups, weight lifting, running, pushups, meal, running, weights, pushups, etcetera... at the end of the day, Kole thought he would die right there. Just one more week, he said to himself. Just one.
*********************************
Finally, the day of the test. The peak he had been working towards since all those months ago with Jack. God, he missed Jack. Kole knew that Jack would be happy for him - he was that kind of guy. With his newfound determination and willpower, he woke up and began his daily routine. But this time, routine was going to be broken.
An hour later, after breakfast and a weekly wash up, all the initiates stood in a line outside of the barracks. They were given their assignments. They had to meet certain physichal requirements.  It all slurred together in Kole's mind. All rote physical tasks, menial to him. Kole was passed.
The second half of the test was intelligence. They were tested on various hypothetical situations. Strategies, field techniques, first aid, the works. All of it seemed so easy to Kole. But the last question had him confused. It was obviously a trick question, designed to question your morals.
"If your comrade was in life threatening danger who would be killed if something was not done immediately, but there was a hostile enemy who would kill many more people if you tried to save said comrade, what would you do?"
Kole stared at the question for ten minutes, his pencil sitting on his desk. He remembered Jack. He remembered his parents, and Can Town. He remembered why he was here.
Kole picked up his pencil, and began writing.
*********************************
The next day, Kole was passed with flying colors. He and his fellow graduates stood there, beaming with pride as their leader congratulated them and shook their hands. As he shook their hands, he left a small pin in the new Knight's palm. And when he did, he whispered.

"Welcome to hell."

((Sorry if this section seems rushed, I was doing this late and night and I wanted to get it done.))
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PART II: THE BROTHERHOOD
Screaming. Running. Headache. Guns. Jack.
Kole woke up in a sweat. It was the same nightmare he'd been having for weeks on end - it was starting to get to him. He rubbed his eyes and got out of bed. It was early in the morning - but no time is ever too early to wake up when you're with the Brotherhood.
He ate his breakfast, slowly reflecting at his months here at the Brotherhood - he hadn't made many friends yet. Comrades, for sure. People he trusted in battle. But friends? Please. Friends were lost as soon as you made them, and they were more trouble than they were worth. But maybe that would change someday. He would like someone to talk to, someone to hang around, someone just... to be there.
His assignments helped him take his mind off of things for a while, but his mind always drifted whenever he wasn't doing something important. His assignments were mostly menial - custodial duties, managing supplies, and other small time chores. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you could go on a recon patrol for a day or two to get out of the base.
Kole walked to the assignment board to check his duties of the day. He was listed for lookout duty. Kole climbed up the small watchtower's ladder, and sat down, gazing over the Wasteland. It was peaceful - sitting up here, where everything was quiet. Hours passed by, and Kole was already getting bored.
Just then, he spotted a recon team that had been sent out a day earlier coming over a hill in the distance.  "Hey, the recon squad is coming back!" he yelled down to the guards standing at the gate. "Alright! Thanks for the heads up!" shouted one of them.
The squad entered the base, exhausted. They talked to the gate guards for a few seconds, and then started running towards the main building. A few minutes later, a group of Brothers exited the building. "Hey Kole! We want you to come with us!" shouted a Paladin - the leader of the group. "Alright, I'll be down in a second!" Kole yelled back.
He approached the squad. "Alright, listen up. We're going on a strike mission. A group of experienced raiders has been preying on a main road for a while, but everyone that's tried to mess with 'em has been taken down. The only reason we're going in is because we use that road too - our supply caravans need it to get here. So we need to take care of it fast."
Everyone looked at eachother. This was strange - normally raiders don't attack one area for this long, or survive this long without being killed. But, they all nodded and set off to take care of the threat.

CHOKE-HOLD
Looking through the binoculars, the Paladin spoke under his breath. "Yup. They're raiders. Well equipped too - they might actually try to aim at us this time."  Kole and the Paladin were laying down on top of a hill, their outlines shrouded by the rock formation around them. The armor was a nice natural camoflauge, too.
"How many?" Kole asked. "Hm.. looks to be around 10. They should be quick takeouts. Here, take this. Consider it to be a test. Time to see if you're worth your salt, son." The Paladin slowly slid  the sniper rifle to Kole, along with a large amount of ammo.
The Raiders were tearing up the place bad - they had the road held at a small, destroyed bridge. There were large ditches on both sides of the road - the raiders would hide in these and ambush anyone coming down the road. At night, they set up a camp underneath the bridge in the dried up creekbed.
Kole nodded, and hoped all the time he spent practicing his marksmanship would pay off. "Stay here, I'll tell them the plan," the Paladin whispered. Aiming the rifle towards the road from his hilltop perch, Kole observed the raiders. After five minutes, another Knight layed down next to him. "Paladin is leading the assault force. I'm here to cover your ass." he whispered.
Another few minutes later, there was a loud, long whistle, followed by a quick, sharp one. That was the signal. A raider closest to the assault group looked around in confusion - and then his head exploded.
Kole pulled the trigger, and sent an invitation to hell that the bastard couldn't refuse - a fatal headshot. A wisp of smoke followed the shell that ejected from the gun. "Kill confirmed," the Knight said, looking through the binoculars. "Nice shot, too... damn."
The squad charged forward, firing at the raiders. They were caught with their pants down - most of them were down with the first volley of lasers. Kole adjusted his aim, and fired at anybody that came into his scope that looked like a raider. Suddenly, he realized that there were more than the Paladin had said there were.
The Knight next to him must've realized this too. "Oh shit," he muttered. "I hope they can get all of 'em okay." Explosions started going off near the squad, and they immediately disperesed. "We didn't bring any grenades, did we?" asked Kole. "Uh... nope," the Knight said, swallowing hard.
The assault squad was getting hammered. They took cover in a ditch, opposite from the teeming force of Raiders. "Paladin is signaling for a retreat," said the Knight. Kole wasn't really listening, he just kept firing and reloading.
"I'm down to my last magazine, damnit!" swore Kole. "Alright, let's try to get close and support them," said the Knight.

FIRE SUPPORT
Kole and his partner slid into the ditch, and came up next to the Paladin. "We gotta get outta here! There must be a whole motherfucking tribe down here!" Several Brothers lay down in the ditch, injured. The Paladin yelled as loud as he could - "EVERYONE WHO CAN SHOOT, START SHOOTING GOD DAMNIT! KOLE, GET DOWN HERE AND HELP ME MOVE THESE GUYS!"
All the glory of a Brotherhood assault force's suppressive laser fire came rushing at the Raiders at the speed of light. Some say they were able to shed a tear of joy at the sheer beauty of the huge amount of red that filled the air that day before they were vaporized, but that's physically impossible.
Kole and the Paladin started moving the wounded out of the ditch, almost unchallenged. "I guess you were wrong, hunh!" shouted Kole. The Paladin looked at him - "Fuck you!" he politely yelled back. Another grenade went off - dangerously close to the ditch. The squad's fire did not falter. The Paladin and Kole rejoined the squad. "Alright, EVERYONE MOVE OUT!" the Paladin yelled.
In a retreating-cover fire strategy, the Brothers moved out of the ditch. Another grenade went off - catching a Knight and tossing him forward, hitting the ground with a klunk. Kole stopped running, and looked back. His inner morals tugged and pulled at his body, telling him to go save the man. "Come ON, Kole! There's nothing we can do for him!" the Paladin yelled. "I gotta save him! I may as well be killing him myself by letting that guy die!" Kole shouted back. Acting with he thought may have been extreme stupidity, he sprinted towards the wounded Knight. "What the hell are you doing? Keep going..." the injured soldier gasped.
Kole ignored him, taking his arms over his shoulders and carrying him back to the rest of the group, who were now trying to cover Kole's ass. "You are a risky, and DANGEROUS motherfucker!" the Paladin said. Kole grunted, and kept moving.
Days would pass before they could get back to their base - preventing anybody from trailing the group. The wounded men were treated, and some of them were in critical condition. Luckily, all of them survived the days spent in the wilderness. They returned to the base, where they were greeted by the entire base - all of them cheering. They were gone longer than expected. The only time that happens is when something goes wrong - and when something goes wrong and everyone's alive... that's just a plus.
That night, Kole lay in bed wondering if the days ahead could be any more exhausting and deadly than today.
He hoped he would be wrong.

Comments:
Sorry if the backstory is boring/poorly written/lacks certain plot information. I don't consider myself to be a good writer, but I do consider myself to be an excellent role-player. I just wanted to get the main points of his life across. Also, the first portion was written at 1 in the morning.
I also apologize for any formatting errors - this was written in Notepad over the course of a few days, so I have no idea how it will turn out.

Ragolution

I refuse to grade it until it is 100% done.

deluxulous


deluxulous

not to be a "HEY HEY CHECK MY APP" guy
but it's been almost a month. shameless self bump.

Ragolution

Quote...med just fine. And they were...
I don't think you're a good enough writer to start a sentence with 'and'
And that's my point. Don't do it.

Quotethe rest of it is pure unorganized chaos. Wastelanders (Buckeyes, they were called by outsiders, because of the state's nickname) grabbed land and defended it with their lives. They did whatever they wanted with it - they farmed, growing food and selling it for caps, additional space for homes, even a playing field for sports was built.

Was.. was it violent or some kind of namby-pamby-land where everyone loves everyone?

Quotehe had three meals a day

I understand you're adjacent and within a canning factory, but I find it hard to believe a proverbial city could live off the stockpile for longer than a few months. Included in that, usually products were shipped out of factories and into warehouses. That's something that continues, today.

Quote...School...
Hahahahhahahahhahahhahaahahh

QuoteThey had been taking bribes from the richer families of Can Town to allow the hoarding of supplies, energy, and luxuries to themselves.

Okay.
Hoarding supplies. Check.
Hoarding luxuries. Check.
Hoarding energy? Huh?
When was a power source of any measure mentioned at all?

QuoteA hunting rifle as well as 5 boxes of ammo..10 rounds..

I just want to mention Fallout's retarded ammo capacity system.
A box of rifle cartridges would have upward of 30 shells. One of them would probably fill your entire pocket, and be pretty goddamn heavy. Certainly not weightless.
Not a discrepancy, just me complaining about Fallout.

QuoteHe couldn't kill anyone with this - it was against his nature.

Yet no worries killing those mole dogs and stuff? I understand but it's kinda meh.

Quoteand nature had radioactive, mutant superstrength to aid it.
I like this.

QuoteAfter eating a banquet of TV dinners,

>>Frozen Dinners
>>No Power
>>No Freezers
MFW you ate spoiled food.

Quotethe now-dead-man's midsection,
Awkward phrasing. Good attempt at creative description, but doesn't suit the occasion.


Quote
NEWBIE
Kole awoke in an enclosed room. He shook his head, but his vision was still blurry. "God damn..." he thought. Then, he coughed violently. His blurred vision wasn't helping his headache. Not that there was much to see, other than a door at the end of the room.
Suddenly, it opened and a man wearing an armor suit he saw earlier entered. "So, you want to be one of us." When he spoke, he had the same filtered, stuffy voice as the soldier he met earlier. "Well, it takes a lot to be 'one of us.' And frankly, I don't think you know what you're in for. Unless you do, and you think you're capable. You can either accept a life full of hardships and death, or we can kick your ass out and you don't have to let the bad men hurt you. So, now that I've layed out your options, what'll it be?"
Kole replied with a grunt, and started falling asleep again. The soldier slammed his fist on the metallic table that Kole was sitting at, leaving a dent in it. "Hey! Wake the fuck up!" he shouted. Kole sat up quickly, almost tipping over in his chair. He quickly responded, "I want to be with you guys!"
"Hmmph. Lucky for you, we need new recruits. From what they tell me, you can sort of handle yourself! Nice work with the pitchfork, if that story is even true! At least you hate Raiders... that's a plus... Anyways, you'll begin the initiation test tomorrow. If you pass, you'll be trained. And if you survive that, badoom bidow, welcome to the BoS. It's harder than it sounds. So don't get too cocky."
Kole nodded, and fell asleep.

Do not like.
Do.
Not.
Like.

QuoteSeveral Brothers lay down in the ditch, injured.
Hahahahah you mean initiates or apprentices hahahahah


As a closing note, I don't like your proving. It's not as monumentally... proof-full as the others have made theirs. Whereas that's not an essentially bad thing, it's not something I'm fond of. If I were the Elder-- Oh wait, I am.

I wouldn'tve promoted you to Knight for merely being reckless and heedless.

You disobeyed orders to save someone, and if it was an initiate, that's something I especially don't like.
Initiates aren't given Power Armor for a reason, they're liabilities, we know they're going to die.
Knights? You save knights, damnit.
Knights and anyone higher ranked or wearing power armor or holding a gauss rifle or something equatable to that.

In short, rewrite your proving. It's the part I dislike the most.