Re: 3/H/4-2 Application Thread [Open]

[assassin8909]

IC Info

[/size]Name: [/size]Nathan Alston

[/size][/color]

Age: 25[/font][/color]
Past Assignments (if any): None




A brief history about yourself:[/color][/size]I was born into the Enclave... I was raised up by the Millitay, not exactly the preferable way to get raised, you see. You get your ass worked off all day, and have no time to yourself at all... but, it is however worth it.  The whole reason I was Millitary raised, is because my Mother died weeks after I was born, and my Father was an officer, Killed in action...[/size][/size]

When I was about 10, they started showing me how to fire some weaponry, and told me about the outside... how it was impure, how the people outside were tainted mutants... I picked up the slightly rusted 10mm Pistol, inserting the fresh magazine into the slot, cocking the pistol, aiming down the crooked sight. I took a deep breath, and fired. I hit the target... the feeling was great!At the age of 14, things got more tough, they put me through fist fighting, and mostly CQB, telling me how to watch around every corner, and to be careful at all times, incase the mutants were lurking around that edge.

It was my 16th birthday when I was allowed to leave the bunker for the first time, and go with the other Enclave Millitary to speak with far out Enclave. I went outside into the wasteland... they told me to shield my eyes, but keep the mask on at ALL TIMES strictly. They said if I took it off, I would die because of the radiation. I chose to believe them, and still do now. We travelled along the wasteland, when some pathetic, excuse for a human approached us in ripped, filthy clothing, begging for caps. We laughed, and mocked him, before capturing him, holding him against his will.

We walked along the dusty highway, dragging him across the floor, talking about the ex-president... John Henry Eden was it? They said that he died ages ago or something, and that it was a tragic mistake made by the mutants. The seven of us approached some... wooden, burned old shed, covered in scortch marks, and dirt. The first thing that came to mind was: "You gotta be fucking kidding me..."

The others said to me that this was the place, and for me to go in first. I did, and as we climbed down that old hatch, I looked around. It was dark, but I heard clanging metal. The others told me to go ahead, and meet the higher ranks in the bunker, so, ofcourse I obeyed. I went through the Fire Exit, and into the corridors, to see someone tall, wearing electrical tesla armor... at least, it looked about 10,000 volts... The figure extended a hand, but I didn't accept it, frightened incase of electric shock. Heh... I was a real pussy back then. I noticed the rank insignia, and saluted the figure quickly, and they did it back. They asked my name, and I told them it. Simple process.

I woke up one morning to hear yelling in the room next to me... sounded like some sort of interrogation. That yelling turned into a loud clunking sound, and then all of a sudden, screaming, that got deeper, and more crispy sounding. I picked myself up, and ran out of my room, to the door, and looked through the eye slot. It was so... horrifying, yet it made perfect sense. An Enclave scientist was experimenting on the captured mutant, which started transforming it into a more bigger, green mutant, twice the size of us pure humans. He was covered in some greenish liquid when it happened... It made sense... we need to experiment on things to see what causes the mutation, and then find a way to stop it, and rid of the mutants, Once and for all, make the wasteland a better place once again! God bless the Enclave... making the wasteland a better place. Unlike those Brotherhood of Steel fools that they told me about, about as impure as the worst of the mutants out there. They have Laser technology, but we are far more advanced, for we have Plasma. Choke on that, you crazy bastards!

OOC Info
Steam Name: Sgarner215
SteamID: STEAM_0:1:29951145
Time in HGN: 5-6 Months

ACCEPTED and assisgned A/3/H/4-2, Private, Rifleman.