Steam name: Qman

Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:15341901

In-character name: 'Candyman'

Reason my character should be transferred to the City:
To find his meaning once more.

Detailed back story explaining my escape from the Outlands:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1pSyYhRYeIM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G-Vg2YS-sFE

The silhouette of a man is seen sitting on a crate, his back hunched and looking to the ground in a melancholy way, as the room becomes brighter from a flash of lighting, it could be seen the man wearing a long coat is pondering things. Candyman kicking his right leg as he looks down at the room, his kukri in his left hand, hanging limply from it. As he looks over to the window, his head careless as it lolls to his right, looking at the rain drip down from the window, looking at the darkened wet street, distant sounds of fighting heard.  As thunder rolls once more, he looks at his torn misunderstood face from the reflection, as he slowly closes his eyes, looking back with a very depressed sigh.
*Chattering over the radio is heard* Candyman sluggishly gets up from the crate as it gives a very faint creek, his feet clanking against the wooden floor, no longer caring about how discrete he is. He picks up the radio listening into it.  Candyman then turns the radio off, as it gives a click and he thinks to himself. “What am I doing here?” “Who am I?” “What am I supposed to be doing?” His questions going through his head so quickly it seems to be muffled, as he focuses on the sound of the rain hitting the window. As one question draws out from the rest of his worries, “What now?” Candyman places his hand against the window, looking out of it, curling his fingers some from the cold of the glass. The lighting strikes once more as he looks at his reflection, his dull expressionless look quickly turns into fear, as he sees the silhouette of a man, turning around as his coat picks up in a rage as echoes of a very un-nerving voice is heard “ExOduS” Every muscle in Candyman’s body tenses as he freezes unable to think, comprehend, or act against the now lingering voice.
He turns around, in a very paranoid manner, looking down as if he was being yelled and shunned by someone. As he then feels something on his right shoulder, he looks back in a panicked way only to see the fading face of a half burnt face of a female. As his eyes open widely and he opens his mouth to scream, but nothing comes out. Candyman quickly gathers his things, tossing a worn out black backpack over his shoulder, the zippers giving faint sounds as they move across the material of the backpack. He quickly rushed downstairs, grabbing the cold, yellow handle of the door swinging it open. Candyman looks up briefly, feeling the cold draft of the Romanian wind against his face. He continues walking outside as the sound of rain splashing and raindrops hitting his coat are heard. He looks off into the distance, as he makes his way to the bridge outside the town, looking at the distant city, reflecting on old memories. “Is this what I need?” he asks himself, looking down at the fall, turning once more towards the radio tower. “I feel constantly suppressed and haunted, I feel alone, so, so alone, I feel….Like an echo.” He says to himself as he saunters his way over the bridge, letting himself be covered in water. The creaking of the bridge, the clanking of his boots, and the flutter of his coat follow him with each step. “I must, begin again.” “I speak of redemption, I speak of, getting rid of burdens, I speak of, getting better and pressing onto my path.” He says under his breath, as he grabs the post of the bridge, pulling himself to the depressingly dark ground. “But I have made no progress. No redemption or white light is seen, what is it that I need then? It’s a conundrum of a problem, it’s a puzzle and a maze, something I must figure out how to tame, not conquer, but to surpass.” He says to himself, walking into the small cave, crossing his legs as he slowly gets a cold, sniffling from the cold. “I speak of an exodus, I speak of a storm falling, but as I do that another slowly approaches. It’s time I go back into my path, instead of forward.” He says to himself, as the storm slowly passes by, as he walks to the trees chopping off bits of it, then walking to the already made campfire down the forest, working his way to make a fire to warm himself.
As the fire warms his self he begins to climb up the small mountain area, looking over the slowly drying forests and the distant mountains and hills. Using his sense of direction to move to where old Inue Pass was, small memories following, and then use that direction to slowly make his way back to the city. On his way back, after two weeks of traveling, hunting small game, developing small traps, starting fires and using his survival strategies, he comes across a grey stone. As he walks further into the ruins of the city to find it in a heap of destruction, fading chaos, and aftermath. He picks up a piece of a metal from the now destroyed combine walls, holding it up in the grey cloudy sky, he gives out a very depressed sigh, as a tear falls down to the ash-ridden ground, making it reveal a hint of the dirt and destruction beneath it. He lets the chunk of metal down, as it clunks its way into the dirt, lifting ash and dirt around it as he marches. Footprints left behind in the ash.
Candyman looks to his left, seeing the walls of the nexus, he stops in his tracks. He slowly walks towards it as he kneels down, using his hand to wipe away the ash, revealing a drawing of a dove. He thinks how far-fetched yet how much significance that dove is to him. Slowly closing his eyes and sighing to calm his nerves, he stands walking even more into the ruins of the nexus to find pieces of all its old memory, chunks of detainment, pieces of Section 4 projects, walls and rows of so many memories thinking to himself. “How misunderstood they must be, they live to protect a false nation that a portion of humanity supports. Yet there are others who want to be brave and fight for what is left of their humanity.
Which is the correct path? A question that lingers through my mind, they must either hate or love these memories, hate or love the flag they carry, showing how much of humanity is left in them. I wonder....Do they feel as if they made a mistake?” Candyman kept on thinking and walking, nothing is heard as he walks but the crunch of the ruins, and his heartbeat, so much history and memory as he walks but as he walks the remains grow weaker in proportion and more destruction rues the city’s remnants shrouding the nexus...and then, nothing… He stops walking only to see that the ruins end there, no more combine technology, no more walls, no more memories. It ends in sorrow…He turns back around, looking at the torn and blown down train station, as he walks towards it the ruined apartment slowly falls behind him, blocking his path through the plaza.
 As he gazes towards it he notices that the monument that used to stand so tall is now destroyed, lying on top of the ruined UCH with small bits and pieces. He can’t help but walk towards it, and as he does this he find himself walking in the shifted halls of what used to be where people lived. He continues to walk as the already destroyed pieces behind him become even more ruined. “Such a depressing way to end things; how much pain and misery does it cost for someone to persevere, and walk their road just as I am walking mine now.” He says in a very gloomy way, as he walks out the walls, the ash begins to thin, the dark grey sky begins to brighten, and the ground eventually becomes green. He sighs looking back, only to see the city fade away as his vision blurs.

Candyman wakes up in the deep forests, disorientated and fatigued. He slowly stands up, observing the area around him. He sighs, blaming this on his schizophrenia, not being able to remember anything he resorts to his journal, as he opens his backpack he realizes his journal is gone. A minute passes which seems like an eternity to Candyman goes on, as he stares into the backpack in fear. He slowly closes the backpack, giving a heavy sigh before standing up, throwing the backpack on as he does so. He quickly looks around himself only to be surrounded by tall trees, he sighs walking into the direction of the tallest object he can see.
After about half an hour of mindlessly walking, he reaches his destination and begins to climb the tall tree ahead of him, as he does so he looks around seeing off into the distance the dark-grey sky of C45, he sighs now knowing where he is. He climbs back down and continues his path. As he does so, he hears a fierce growl, as he tensely locks up for a moment; he quickly resorts to taking out his kukri into his right hand, and a throwing knife in the other. The growls grow in number as a grey wolf hops out of the bushes near him, candyman flinches, closing his eyes only to blindly swing his kukri into the direction of the oncoming wolf. As he opens his eyes he finds the wolf lying on the ground, its neck is entirely cut open. He sighs quickly, looking around in a panic as another wolf comes from behind, biting his hind leg he drops to the floor, throwing his knife at the running wolf, as it contacts its upper legs’ it falls down, wincing and whining candyman quickly crawls to it with his other leg slamming his kukri into its neck, falling on his back and sighing heavily, the feeling of victory and safety calming his nerves.
He quickly takes his backpack, resting it on his chest, going through its contents. He takes out the last bits of his medical supplies, taking out his last pack of bandages, a towel, and bio-gel. He sighs, before he operates quickly on his leg, birds flying away from his loud scream as the bio-gel burns into his wound. About three weeks later, after almost being near death from his encounter, he stumbles across a very distinct black cloud in dawn’s sky. He gets up, kicking dirt on his fire as he follows it, seeing a smokestack revealed, he stops in his tracks finding himself of a cliff, to see an industrial city, its air polluted and the environment around him deteriorated. As he sighs, walking to the city, tired, exhausted, and finally finding the beginning of his path, a place where everything once started, and maybe his redemption he long fully wants.


-Along his long journey all the supplies he had, medical bandages, paper, and pretty much everything but a small journal in his backpack put to use, as he eventually lost his backpack in the destruction of C45. Having to leave behind a personal item of significance, the only thing on him are the clothes he holds on his back, and his weapons, slightly out of condition.


Time when it happened(if misclick):

Changes- Removed the date, I thought it was the time Candyman left outlands, sorry.
Changes-Just realized that I had it as "Qman's Outlands appeal
Changes-Added more detail to the backstory

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SLp0ykvotEI" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SLp0ykvotEI</a>

So uh, who else isn't going to have any social life after this? Well, I don't even have none to start with. 

I for one love the elder scrolls series, as well as the fallout series but that's not what I wanted to pointlessly talk about.
I've watched arena be played which is kinda' cool if you know how rare that one is, but I really want that combat. Guild Wars II combat is great, clicking the mouse to attack and not clicking buttons on a hot-bar seems a lot better, but what do y'all think about all of it? Like that huge MEGA SERVER and such.

Okay, let's make this a bit more challenging. You must ask me questions via. Gif's or images. Kaygo

Oh and if you can't find anything, you can just ask the question.

http://launch2.universeprojects.com

Just have a look at that, virtual reality. Seems amazing, but this idea would probobly take so many years to create, it would either be abandoned, or need to be added onto.

Will add onto this if I get bored and make more

*Candyman's first page of his journal, with burnt corners, seemingly salvaged journal.*
*The handwriting is sloppy, with errors in grammar*
BoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBored. Seemingly nothing has been done over the couople of months, well nothin i'd like to get myself into that is. I'm a wuss, bored one. All I do is take scrap things and make them into bits of clockwork, then break them. Why am I even writing in this thing, it's not like anyone will read it...

*A drawing of a wall is shown*

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The page flips with a sound of the wind


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*The wind turns the page once more*


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The wind is sounded
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The wind, sounding cold and hisses loudly as the page eerily turns


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Steam Name:CG-Qman
Steam ID:STEAM_0:0:15341901
Character Name:Arren "Candyman" Kain
Reason for the switch:Candyman wanted to leave to outlands to think, and plan, and also try to get some optional backup before coming back, and finding a purpose.
If required, write a detailed backstory on how your character left the outlands:Candyman stretched as early morning hit, as he was waiting for more daylight to start his journy back through the forest, and sewers leading back to City-45. He grabbed his Kukri and conceled it in his sleeve, he grabed his backpack as it jangled of metal, and creations, and stuffed future blue-prints for other ideas. He had entered outlands with a female named "Dove" and decided to leave her a note for when she was ready to leave. From when he was travaling to outlands, he made himself a mental map, and re-traced his steps through the sewers, eventually coming across a body with minimal food, and water, supplies to help him move on. He took the supplies adding it to his, making sure to drink regulalry, and stop making a fire when the nights hit. Using his survival skills, he fashened a Fishing-pole, and left down to a stream, near a broken down shack that was destroyed. It was pre-war, scorched, and had the support beams crushed in half. He used some of the metal sheet and two broken off suport beams to make a little shelter to help him sleep. When he awoke, he found his fishing pole broken from using fragile wood, and packed up, moving out. He continued to do this for a couple weeks, slowly making his way back to the city. He had slight laserations from tripping, or branches from trees scratching his arms, and was muddy, and pretty gross. So when he got back to the city he made sure to go down to the area he had a small secret area of clothes, and different names he got from others citizen's he either killed or stalked in case he needed to lay low. Whilst he was in the sewer area of the city, he arrived to the grates of the slums. Where he saw a Vortigaunt take a couple refugees to the outlands. By the time he arrived, he found himself slightly ill of a fever, and his kukri getting in slowly getting worse condition.

Notes:Candyman does have auths for survival skills and most likely knew how to fashion a small spear, or a crappy fishing rod to use for a while, and even some traps to trap animals and small creatures to eat. He also has construction auths, enough to make small rooms, and with time he could even make a house, but with limited supplies that would never happen.|Candyman caught a small fever from working hard to get back to City-45.|