Do you have a porn-stache like the dude in your profile pic in real life?

And if not, will you grow one?

I don't really have much pull around here, but I'll offer a +Support too. Having RP'd quite a bit with Tray on the Outlands, as well as some other servers, I can confidently say that he'd be able to handle this character, not to mention that the idea of the character is one of the more original ones that I've seen in a while.

Trust me, I really do hate to be 'that guy', but I felt like I needed to say something about CoolChris and his RP.  This auth pretty much builds up the same character as your last one: The fractured-youth, broken-innocence child. That being the case, I can't help but see the character acting the same way as CoolChris's previous child character, by which I mean she will be constantly be being attacked, raped, or chased because he put the character in that position on purpose. I really don't like to be the guy who points this shit out, and I really don't want any massive trouble between us as players, but I have to say that i disapprove of this, big time (even if my opinion is irrelevant).

I use to get these. Once you figure out a reality check, like a light switch, your brain begins to recognise when it's dreaming and when it's not (so I've been told).

I tried out Morbus a few days ago, and it's really fun. Those hair-rising moments when you're in a dark hall way, nervously gripping a glow stick and glancing over your shoulder only to be greeted by the terrifying familiar sound of baddies on the way makes it a lot of fun, especially when playing with a few friends over steam chat. Unfortunately, not many people have been playing it much since it's launch, which is a real shame, because it's much more fun to play when there's a decent number of people online.

Player Section

Steam Name: Frolie
Age: 14
How long have you been Roleplaying? (can be any game): About 6 years now, around the time Fallout 3 and Oblivion were coming out.
How long have you been playing Serious GMod RP?: About a year and a half, starting with HL2RP.

Character Section

Authorization(s):
-A Fifteen Year old character.

Name: Ali Ezra
Age: 15 (Depending on the auth, of course)
Gender: Female
Affiliation: None

Write a detailed in-canon back-story how your character obtained these authorizations.
*This back-story is pretty long, and pretty grim, so if you're determined to read it, settle in for sizable, depressing tale*

A thin white man rapped his fist on the makeshift sheet-metal door, and peered inside at a black man seated on a mattress. "Sir, the sick woman on the third floor, she died sometime last night."

The black man looked up from his magazine at the newcomer from under his reading glasses. "I've told you before Ethan, do not call me sir." The white man nodded shakily. "R-right. Elijah, the woman-" The seated man interrupted him. "I heard you the first time Ethan. Not the pregnant one..." Ethan spoke up as Elijah dragged his words. "She wasn't pregnant anymore sir. I mean, uh, Elijah. She had her child last week."

Elijah lay the magazine off to the left of the mattress, and removed his glasses. "The child... boy or girl?" Ethan responded quickly. "I believe it was a little girl sir. Her name was said to be Ali, before the mum passed away." Elijah nodded, contemplating what should be done. "Bring me the girl. Take the body outside, leave it somewhere it will be found. A park bench, or something. We don't need police officers here." Ethan nods quickly. "Right away sir." Elijah resumed his magazine. "And I told you, stop calling me sir." Ethan stammered his words out, halfway out the room. "R-right. Sorry s- Elijah. "
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The screams of his infant child woke Elijah from his slumber. He pulled himself from the mattress, and wandered listlessly over to his surrogate-child's crib, carefully maneuvering around the holes in the metal floor, and the trash scattered about the room. He surveyed the infants condition, finding nothing to be out of the ordinary. He sighed, and walked away from the child and into the bathroom. He flicked the light-switch on, immediately greeted by the appearance of himself in the grimy mirror. At 6 feet and 2 inches, Elijah had a striking outward appearance.  He had long dreadlocks scattered loosely over his shoulders, and dark, brooding brown eyes. His roguish, boxy facial hair complemented his roguish personality, sharply lining from his jaw to his lips. He sat himself down on the toilet, and after a few minutes, exits the bathroom once more, noticing his child's wails have stopped. He gave a sideways glance to Ali's crib, noticing her peacefully slumbering, and exited the small, confined room.

Immediately having exited the room, Elijah is once more greeted by Ethan. "Brought you a coffee sir. Figured you'd need it, with the baby and all." Elijah paused, peering out over the stairwell at the dirty, trashed warehouse before him. Old machinery from whatever used to be manufactured at the depressing, downtown Detroit warehouse was scattered everywhere, coated with forty plus years worth of dirt and grim. On makeshift cots, dirty mattress', and rough blankets, the community within the building lounged about, wailing in pain from whatever ailed them; sickness, bruises, broken bones, hunger, or desire for another fix, it didn't really matter. They all seemed to wail as one.

"Sir?" Elijah snapped his head to the left, peering over at Ethan. "Eh? What? Oh, right. Thanks." Elijah accepted the Styrofoam cup of black coffee, taking a sip as he leaned back out over the rail of the stairs. "Any important news?" He muttered, over the foam cup. "Yes sir, a short while earlier today one of our girls bit at a paying man. She erm... well, no easy way to say it I 'spose. She took his dick clean off, sir." Elijah jerked his head up from the cup. "Jesus Christ! Where's the man?" Ethan shrugged. "I can't say sir, he ran off right quick, member in hand ya know? Can't imagine he'll go to the fuzz, what with how it happened..."  Elijah finished his coffee, tossing the empty cup over the stairwell. "Have Curtis deal with the girl in question, and tell him not to let her near another customer for at least a week. Alright?" Ethan nodded. "I'll get it done right away sir." Elijah looked up from the scene below him. "I told you, stop-" He watched as Ethan jogged down the steps, off to accomplish his commands. The wails of Ali stir him from outside, as he stumbled back inside to deal with the infant child's desires.
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"Ali, eat your broccoli." Elijah and young Ali sat together, eating their microwaved dinners on their table composed of cinder-blocks and sheet-metal. "I don't wanna. They're gross..." Elijah looked down at her from his chair. At 6 years of age, Ali had shoulder-length red hair, and soft brown eyes. "Ali, you'll do as you're told." The small argument was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Wait here, and eat your vegetables." Elijah answered the door, peering outside at into the dark warehouse's interior and at the three men outside. One man Elijah secretly dreaded to see, Curtis, was with them.  Although he was only about 5 and a half feet tall, he was a frightening man. He was always clothed in a Kevlar vest, with an olive drab t-shirt beneath. He frequently spoke of his military combat, though many doubted he'd ever been in the army (not to his face, of course). Capped on with his shaved head, and sharp, infiltrating green eyes, he was a truly terrifying man. Curtis was gripping a man Elijah did not know by the collar of his shirt, and Ethan stood squeamishly near by.

Elijah stepped out and swung the door closed, blocking Ali from watching the scene outside. "What's this about?"  Ethan stood uncomfortably, desperately attempting to stammer through a sentence. Curtis butted in, powerfully barking out his words. "This fucker 'ere tried to bail after two 'ours with Nikki, real kinky shit too. Tried slippin' out the back afterwords, caught 'im on the way out. I say, we take him down to the basement and put two in 'is ear." The man nervously exclaimed"Jesus! N-no, I'll pay up, I swear!" Elijah looked him up and down before speaking. "You'll pay double, or you won't leave the building, understand?" Curtis tightened his grip on the man's collar. "We outta make an example outta 'im." Elijah looks at the man in question, waiting for an answer. "I'll pay, I- I'll pay whatever you want!"  Elijah looked to Curtis, giving him a brief nod. With a sigh, Curtis released him. "Ethan, Curtis, take him down to the old break room, give him a beating, make sure people see it. Then get the money out of him, and toss him back with the lot." Curtis nodded, pulling the squirming man back down the stair. Elijah watched as the man is yanked down the stairs. He sighs, and turns back to his into his room.

Elijah yanked open the door again, pleased to see Ali's clean plate. Elijah smiled. "You've earned yourself some ice cream. Go wash up, I'll scoop you out a bowl." Ali grinned before bolting off to wash up in the bathroom. Elijah wandered over to the table, peering out the open window, peering down with a grin at Ali's dumped out vegetables. He shook his head, and went off to the freezer for the ice cream.
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Ali looked up at the door, reacting to the hefty knock on the door. "H-hello?" The familiar, rough, British-accented voice booms out from behind the door. "Elijah was askin' for ye. Downstairs, the rows..." Ali recognized the term 'The rows'. She'd heard Elijah, and Ethan, and Curtis, and some of the other men mention it before. She knew where it was, but not what happened there. Elijah frequently told it her was strictly off-limits.
"Come on, hurry it up, I'm taking ye down there."

Ali had been down among the squatters before, but today they seemed particularly woeful. It was currently winter, and being out inside the commons of the warehouse was unbearably cold. It was a wonder the people inside didn't freeze to death. As Curtis guided Ali through the interior of the building, the drug addicts and squatters recoiled in fright. Ali looked them over nervously as they walked across the warehouse floor. They all seem to be stuck in an infinite, depressing loop; They all seem to cough, and vomit, and yell, and sob in a routine, infinitely stuck in the same situation.

Curtis eventually stopped at a door. Seated just outside was Ethan, in a fold-out chair. Curtis stopped by the door. "Go on in. Elijah's waiting." Curtis pushed the door open, revealing a long dark hallway, dankly lit by loosely strung light-bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Elijah sat on a metal fold-out chair, reading a book. He didn't look up as he spoke. "Come here." Ali nervously walked over to him, somewhat frightened by the dark, unfamiliar hallway. Elijah gently grasped her by she shoulder when she came to him, kissing her on the head before standing up. "Stay with me. Stay close." Elijah took her by the hand, and lead her down the hall. As they walked, rooms on one side of them were marked with chalk, going down from 14 as they descended the hall. Across each door, a man sat with an oven timer. As they passed each door, the indisputable sound of panting, and the occasion yelp was easily heard.

Elijah stopped her at room 3. Ali was still quite short, so Elijah knelt to meet here at eye-level. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he couldn't quite find the words. He shook his head, and kissed her on the forehead before opening the door. Inside, a man in an under-shirt and jeans sat on a dirty, stained mattress. The windows in the room were covered by towels, which were evidently pinned to the walls by a nail-gun. Regardless, the late-afternoon light shone through the towels, casting an uncomfortable light on the mattress in question, as well as the sceavy, thin man sitting on the mattress. The man looked down at Ali. "How old is she?" Elijah didn't let his eye's stray from the man in the room. "She's nine." A sly smile crept onto the man's face. "She's flawless. I want an hour, no matter how much it takes." Ali felt lost in the conversation, not able to put her voice into the exchange. Elijah spoke, still ignoring Ali. "We'll discuss the price afterwords." The man nodded, gesturing for Ali to come forward. Elijah tilted his head into the room. "Go on." As Ali slowly entered the room, Elijah pushed the door closed behind her.

Elijah settled down in a wood chair just opposite the door, his eyes transfixed on the knob as he takes in every sound. He took an oven timer in his hands, and twisted it back to a full hour, his eyes never leaving the door. He took in every noise over the hour; Ali's screams and bangs on the door in the initial ten minutes, her sobs and yelps in the next twenty, another set of screams painfully lasting the last half hour, and of course, the man's sickening cackle, and the unmistakable creak of the mattress springs. The timer finally chimed, and Elijah crept over to the door, giving it a solid three knocks. The man jerked the door open, clothed in just his jeans. Behind him, Ali lay naked, sprawled across the sheets like a rag doll, sobbing like an infant. A small amount of blood stained the mattress, a recent addition to the population of stains. Elijah walked slowly over to her quaking body, and knelt beside her, running his fingers through her red hair, saying nothing to her. "Are you satisfied?" The man did up his fly before speaking. "Very." Elijah continued to pet Ali's head, pausing before speaking. "Good."
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Ali sat alone in the dank room she and Elijah lived in, watching the tiny 12'' television. Curtis's voice boomed out unexpectedly from behind the door, startling Ali. "The rows. Elijah is waiting." Ali paused, dreading even exiting the room. She still loved Elijah dearly, and would always do anything he'd say, including going back to The Rows again, but even thinking of the hallway, or the mattresses still warm and moist from the pair before, or any of the men she'd been with at Elijah's command made her want to vomit. She tossed her head off to the left, sending her hair off in a likewise fashion.  Curtis's voice bellowed out from behind the door again. "Let's go, I ain't got all day." Ali pulled herself listlessly off the chair, just missing an important news bulletin appeared on the television screen, concerning an event that would forever change human history.

Ali wandered, ghost-faced, down the steps, again escorted by Curtis down to The Rows.  The warehouse floor community seemed quieter than usual, only the rare cough would distort the porcelain silence. Ali felt as though all eyes were fixed on her, like every face was staring at her with a mixture of envy and pity. Suddenly, the whole building seemed to freeze. It was difficult to describe, but everyone seemed to pause all at once, and every sound seemed to drown out as everyone turned their heads to the long, wall-to-wall window at the west end of building as a deep, immense shadow crawls across the only source of light, blacking out the entire building.

The black silence lasted only a second before a earth-rattling explosion rocks the block outside, tearing off an entire wall. Screams and wails pierce the whole building, echoing the explosion's immense sound. Ali's eyes snap back to Curtis, whom is now armed with a .38 special revolver, seemingly from no where. The following hour was a complete blur through Ali's eyes. First, she was pulled along by Curtis towards The Row, as he shot at seemingly nothing and people ran and screamed around them. Next, she was being carried my Elijah out of the building, cradling a wound on her leg as Ethan tore across the room before being nailed in the back by some sort of projectile. After that, she remembered limping down a road downtown, loosely being assisted while walking by Elijah, who was firing a pistol she never knew he had, wailing as Curtis slumped over dead on the road behind him. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was being carried down a flight of stairs by Elijah, in a building she'd never seen before.
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Ali woke in a dark, cavernous room, lit only by a garbage fire. Elijah knelt by the fire, warming his hands. His olive drab jacket was smeared with blood, and a grey beanie was pulled loosely over his dreadlocks. A small, emergency radio was by his feet, and the man speaking over it was talking too quickly to be understood.  Elijah looked over at Ali, noticing she just woke. "Good morning." Ali rubbed her eyes, and responded to Elijah's greeting. 'Wh-where are we? What happened?" Elijah pauses to light a cigarette before speaking. "We are in the Detroit city hall's fallout shelter. Something has come to earth, whatever it is has annihilated everything. You could barely tell, but the man on the radio is telling people that someone has negotiated for the safety of earth. We are hiding." Ali says nothing, still reeling from her leg wound, and confused by Elijah's speech.

Elijah breathed through the cigarette, pulling the smoke deep into his lungs and letting it dwell for a moment before breathing it back out. He talks over the cigarette. "They're looking for you." Ali's face twisted in confusion. "F-for me?!" Elijah nodded. "Yes, for you. More generally, they're looking for anyone under the age of 18, and executing them. At least, according to the man on the radio." Ali looks down into the fire, thoroughly confused about the events of the last few hours, who exactly is attacking everyone, why they are looking for children, and how Elijah has managed to stay so calm. Elijah looks over, concerned. "You should go back to sleep. You're a growing lady, and you need your slumber." Elijah forces a convincing smile. Ali does her best to smile back, and settles back down on the hard-floor, doing her best to fall back asleep.
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Elijah spoke to the strange man while Ali sat drinking her paper-cup full of tea. They were in an abandoned diner, with around two dozen other refugees. Ali was seated in an empty booth, surveying the wrecked wasteland of what once was Detroit. "We need to be on that boat. Staying in the America's is going to get my little girl killed. I can't hide from the constant patrols forever." The stranger shrugged. "If you don't have the money, I don't have the space." Ali looked over at the two. She was too far away to hear the conversation, but continued to watch their mouths move as they negotiated. "Please, I've got a god damned child to look out for. I can't keep her here, I'll do anything to get on that boat." The stranger looked over to Ali. "Anything...?" Elijah follows the man's gaze to hi child. "Anything." The stranger nodded. "How old is she?" Elijah responded. "She's 14, 15 in about a week. Be easy on her, this has been especially difficult for her." The stranger snapped his eyes back to Elijah. "No. If she's gonna be on my boat, I'm getting my hour's worth. Understand?" Elijah nodded. "Good. I want her back in the kitchen in 15 minutes." The man walked away, back towards the kitchen. Elijah gestured for Ali to come to him.
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Ali, Elijah, and the rest of the refugee's boarded the boat. A man in a thick, padded jacket walked up to the front, and addressed the passengers. "Alright, listen up! This boat is gonna take you down the river, and into Lake Erie. We'll stop at a stronghold for a day after we've crossed the lake, then we'll continue down into Ontario and into Buffalo, and stop at another stronghold. From there, we aren't stopping 'till we hit Montreal, then you'll be boarding a different boat that'll take you into the gulf of St. Lawrence, and across the Atlantic into the Black sea. From there, you'll be pursuing your own paths. Got it?!" A slight murmur trembled through the crowd. "Good. We've got a solid few weeks ahead of us folks, you'd best settle in."
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"Ali, wake up. We're there." Ali brought her head up from Elijah's lap, and stared out the porthole window. The depressing, rural landscape was dominated by a large rebel marketplace and port, and was truly none other than the coast of Romania. "Alright, everyone off the boat!" Ali till wouldn't wake, so Elijah simply picked her up, and carried her off. Later, she woke on a bench as a blaring, loud dune buggy raced across the path in front of them.  She arose to find Elijah smoking a cigarette beside her.

"I know where we're headed. Ineu pass. It's a small mountain range out in the middle of the country, populated by 50 or so refugees and rebels stretched between a tiny village and an old soviet bunker. It's not glamorous, but it's jut about perfect for what we've got." Ali nodded, watching the crowds of people gather around outside of the lazily constructed booths, arguing for whatever the vendor was selling. "How will we get there?" Elijah puffs on the cigarette. "We're walking. It's about a week's journey. I picked up some water and some food at one of the booths while you slept, so I'm ready to go when you are. The two pause continuing to watch the busy crowds. "Happy birthday, by the way." Ali looked up from watching the crowd. "What?" Elijah looked down. "It's your birthday. Do you not remember?" Ali looked down at the dirt road. "I guess not." She sighed, waiting another twenty minutes before speaking again. "Alright, I'm ready. Let's go to Ineu pass."

What will these authorizations give your character in regards to perks or defects?
Perks
- Having a younger character than others

Defects
- My character will have less life experience than older ones
- My character will not be as able in combat as older ones, due to her youth


What do you plan to do with these perks/defects?
I plan to up the population of child characters, which will hopefully enrich both active and passive RP.

Will anyone else need these auths? (If so, list OOC and IC name(s))
No one else will require these authorizations.

Which server does this apply for?
Outlands

Extra Notes (optional):
I edited, mostly cleaning up an error with past/present tense in the first few paragraphs, and some spelling errors throughout the rest. Edited again, fixing the gender from male to female (PS, thank Joke )

A citizen bolts into the inn, slamming the doors behind him. He/she frantically explains his/her situation; being hunted down by COTA after gunning down CCA.C43.SeC.115, the tyrannical, sadistic Section commander of City 43. It becomes quite evident that COTA has surrounded the inn, and in large numbers. The refugees inside must wrestle with the decision to either protect him/her and risk lives, or give up the anti-citizen to COTA to avoid risk.

The event mostly deals with Morality and Fear. Several people will undoubtedly believe that the anti-citizen should be protected, and would be putting their lives, and the lives of others, on the line. Others will believe that he should be given up in the hopes of keeping the other refugees alive. The weighing of mortality would be put under pressure as COTA surround the area where the anti-citizen is hiding. Eventually, the strike would occur, and COTA would kill anyone who stands in the way of infiltrating the inn, identifying the anti-citizen, and extracting him/her from the area.

The event would lead to more RP afterwards. Provided that the anti-citizen wasn't forcibly extracted or given up, the citizen might contribute to the server's passive/action RP later on. Other matters would also come to question, like treating the wounded, coping with possible death, and arguing over decisions made that have caused death. All this, capped on with the adrenaline-packed tactical insertion of COTA would, at least according to me, capture everything that the servers were made for.

The COTA should avoid making so many kill shots, and play to lose within reason.  I want the teams to be (somewhat) evenly matched. Also, I really want to urge the tactics in COTA's insertion. To name a few, I'd love it if the squad implemented the use of sniper rifles, or even smoke grenades. And, just a reminder, the team sent is interested in the anti-citizen only, but will kill anyone that gets in their way of him/her.

-Frolie