Post by Asimon on Jan 3, 2013 3:01:55 GMT -5
You all have Mr.vandal to thank for this new standard. Im done accepting half-assed apps now that I have finally seen that someone in this community is capable of an advanced thought. This is his app, DO NOT COPY IT, just take notes and see how apps should be done.
Steam Name: Vandal™
How long have you been on our server?: I've been on this server for actually about 3-4 days. But I've been playing HL2RP for almost 2 years now.
What are you applying to be?: A regular zombie.
Back-story of your character and what their daily life is like (as w/e your applying for): After a small spark in activity in some small emcampments of rebels in City-23's Outlands, the units of City-23's Nexus decided that the safest way to clear out the little rathole would be to shell it with headcrab canisters. On December 19th, 2016, the Sectoral Commander gave the all-green to give them hell. The booms were sounded, and it grabbed the attention of all citizens, both Outland and City alike. The refugees and resistance members watched in the dawn as they saw black streaks hurtling into the air. Everyone was terrified.
Jon Karmin was the everyday regular asshole, he started his day off to the stench of himself, and the snoring of his bunkmate, Jack, god he hated Jack... he slipped off his bunk, looking around and wiping the sleep from his eyes, walking over towards the valved water pipe protruding from the ground. He turned it on with a loud creak, and it woke up his even-louder bunkmate as Jon splashed water on his own face. "Could ya' bring me a cup, Jonny?" he grumbled. "Get off your lazy ass and get your own cup." snapped Jon as he went outside. He squinted as he looked up and around, no sun this morning? Good, the sun is awful. Jon walked by the gun-toting members of the group, flipping them off in his imagination as he took his regular daily morning walk around the encampment. He always takes the same path, from his bunk to the General's barracks, then take the winding road down to the sewage line.
He saw the sky lighten, but not a single ray of light had shown. He looked up and around, watching the sludge travel down the line, seeing some dead bodies once or twice, what a grim fate they must have met, Jon sure as hell didn't care. His moment of tranquility was broken as he heard 3, no, maybe 4 booms? He wasn't paying attention. He groaned as he made his mile long trek back to the encampment. The closer he got, the mor he heard gunfire, and strange gurgling sounds. He looked over a rock, and staring directly at him? Was Jack. Out of his confusion, anger at the situation, and him being startled, he blurted out "Fuck off, Jack." Jack stared at him, terrified. "Jon! Grab a gun! We're being shelled!!" Jack yelled at him, just before a slender, spindly claw wrapped around Jack's neck, another around his shoulder. Jon watched in horror as Jack's shoulder was torn into, blood pouring out, Jack gasped, screaming in pain and agony. "Oh fuck!! Help me Jo-" his last plea for help was cut short as the second hand tore through his neck slowly, through his esphagos (I can't fucking spell that shit, man) plood poured out as he gurgled, pure terror and sorrow in Jack's eyes as he fell forward onto the rock, blood splattered forth, covering Jon. "Jack." muttered Jon in his hellish grimace at his dear 'friend's' body. Recollecting the situation, he looked up, seeing the grotesque creature that mangled his friend. It had long, spindly, sharp bloody fingers. It's internal organs were out and dripping blood and bodily fluids. A large bulky creature atop its head. Jon gasped,running backwards, falling back, and hitting his head. He sat, dazed for about ten seconds before feeling 4 pointy touches on his chest, he looked up to be met with the 6 toothed face of a Headcrab. He yelled, screamed really,as he threw it off, seeing the bloodbath that was his encampment in front of him. Was he the last one...?
No time! He began running back to his little sewage line, tripping over some rocks, spraining his wrist on one. He had eventually made it, looking out over the sludge, more dead bodies than normal. A single tear left his eye, for once in his terrible life... he heard the sound of grass rustling, smiling as he turned back, looking for a friendly face. "Jack...?" he spoke. There was noone. Not Jack. Not the General. But until he looked down, the last sound he heard was a "Scregegegege!" Something attached to his head, and its mouth was sucked around it, all he heard were his muffled screams and his stomps, he felt the world spinning as he fell towards the sewage line, still conscious as the Headcrab ensnared its victim. He floated down the line of City-23's sewers as his still conscious mind registered the intense pain of a beak splitting through his scalp, cracking into his skull. His brain was no match as enzymes and mind altering chemicals were pumped into him, controlling his nervous system, every part of him becoming the headcrab's. As he flowed on down, he slipped through a small opening in the gate of City-23, right next to the usually silent B apartment block. He stood up, gurgling and growling mindlessly. Hello, 23, good old friend...
His daily life would be him wandering the third precinct, looking for those stupid enough to get close. He wouldn't kill every citizen, but hell, he'll fucking tear open a big chunk in them. He will RP being a mindless shambling corpse, hunting for people. He may wander into Precinct one every once in a while, get a gash here and there in some units. But he won't be invincible. He's just a man with an alien on his brain, afterall.
Steam Name: Vandal™
How long have you been on our server?: I've been on this server for actually about 3-4 days. But I've been playing HL2RP for almost 2 years now.
What are you applying to be?: A regular zombie.
Back-story of your character and what their daily life is like (as w/e your applying for): After a small spark in activity in some small emcampments of rebels in City-23's Outlands, the units of City-23's Nexus decided that the safest way to clear out the little rathole would be to shell it with headcrab canisters. On December 19th, 2016, the Sectoral Commander gave the all-green to give them hell. The booms were sounded, and it grabbed the attention of all citizens, both Outland and City alike. The refugees and resistance members watched in the dawn as they saw black streaks hurtling into the air. Everyone was terrified.
Jon Karmin was the everyday regular asshole, he started his day off to the stench of himself, and the snoring of his bunkmate, Jack, god he hated Jack... he slipped off his bunk, looking around and wiping the sleep from his eyes, walking over towards the valved water pipe protruding from the ground. He turned it on with a loud creak, and it woke up his even-louder bunkmate as Jon splashed water on his own face. "Could ya' bring me a cup, Jonny?" he grumbled. "Get off your lazy ass and get your own cup." snapped Jon as he went outside. He squinted as he looked up and around, no sun this morning? Good, the sun is awful. Jon walked by the gun-toting members of the group, flipping them off in his imagination as he took his regular daily morning walk around the encampment. He always takes the same path, from his bunk to the General's barracks, then take the winding road down to the sewage line.
He saw the sky lighten, but not a single ray of light had shown. He looked up and around, watching the sludge travel down the line, seeing some dead bodies once or twice, what a grim fate they must have met, Jon sure as hell didn't care. His moment of tranquility was broken as he heard 3, no, maybe 4 booms? He wasn't paying attention. He groaned as he made his mile long trek back to the encampment. The closer he got, the mor he heard gunfire, and strange gurgling sounds. He looked over a rock, and staring directly at him? Was Jack. Out of his confusion, anger at the situation, and him being startled, he blurted out "Fuck off, Jack." Jack stared at him, terrified. "Jon! Grab a gun! We're being shelled!!" Jack yelled at him, just before a slender, spindly claw wrapped around Jack's neck, another around his shoulder. Jon watched in horror as Jack's shoulder was torn into, blood pouring out, Jack gasped, screaming in pain and agony. "Oh fuck!! Help me Jo-" his last plea for help was cut short as the second hand tore through his neck slowly, through his esphagos (I can't fucking spell that shit, man) plood poured out as he gurgled, pure terror and sorrow in Jack's eyes as he fell forward onto the rock, blood splattered forth, covering Jon. "Jack." muttered Jon in his hellish grimace at his dear 'friend's' body. Recollecting the situation, he looked up, seeing the grotesque creature that mangled his friend. It had long, spindly, sharp bloody fingers. It's internal organs were out and dripping blood and bodily fluids. A large bulky creature atop its head. Jon gasped,running backwards, falling back, and hitting his head. He sat, dazed for about ten seconds before feeling 4 pointy touches on his chest, he looked up to be met with the 6 toothed face of a Headcrab. He yelled, screamed really,as he threw it off, seeing the bloodbath that was his encampment in front of him. Was he the last one...?
No time! He began running back to his little sewage line, tripping over some rocks, spraining his wrist on one. He had eventually made it, looking out over the sludge, more dead bodies than normal. A single tear left his eye, for once in his terrible life... he heard the sound of grass rustling, smiling as he turned back, looking for a friendly face. "Jack...?" he spoke. There was noone. Not Jack. Not the General. But until he looked down, the last sound he heard was a "Scregegegege!" Something attached to his head, and its mouth was sucked around it, all he heard were his muffled screams and his stomps, he felt the world spinning as he fell towards the sewage line, still conscious as the Headcrab ensnared its victim. He floated down the line of City-23's sewers as his still conscious mind registered the intense pain of a beak splitting through his scalp, cracking into his skull. His brain was no match as enzymes and mind altering chemicals were pumped into him, controlling his nervous system, every part of him becoming the headcrab's. As he flowed on down, he slipped through a small opening in the gate of City-23, right next to the usually silent B apartment block. He stood up, gurgling and growling mindlessly. Hello, 23, good old friend...
His daily life would be him wandering the third precinct, looking for those stupid enough to get close. He wouldn't kill every citizen, but hell, he'll fucking tear open a big chunk in them. He will RP being a mindless shambling corpse, hunting for people. He may wander into Precinct one every once in a while, get a gash here and there in some units. But he won't be invincible. He's just a man with an alien on his brain, afterall.
