:steamhappy:

Gender/Sex: Male

Character Full Name: Clive Bernard Montgomery

Known aliases: Any expletive preceded by "old", "wrinkled," or "wrinkly"

Citizen Identification Number (If Applicable):

Character background:
 

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Physical description: An elderly man with wild tufts of hair and a face like a bulldog chewing a wasp. He sports a pair of disgusting mutton chops that should have been killed off by razor a long time ago. He's covered in wrinkles and wears a pair of circular spectacles.

Eye color:  Blue

Scars: None, what a lucky old shit he is

Facial features: Wrinkled; droopy cheeks

Hair Style & Color: White hair that's completely out of hand, who knows what he's trying to do with it

Approximate age: Seventy something, all the booze and drug filled nights haven't been good for Clive's memory

Country originated from: England, United Kingdom

Current location: City 18

Accent: Devonian/Devonshire accent

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Mental good and/or bad skills:
Good:
+ Keeps sharp for an old bastard
+ Witty
+ Incredibly insulting at times

Bad:
- Has a hatred for the Combine as he believes them to have 'stolen' his multiple pensions and bank accounts
- Incredibly insulting at times
- He's a snobby bastard

Physical good and/or bad skills:
Good:
+ Gives a good punch, at least he thinks he can
+ Gets some easier treatment because of his age

Bad:
- Needs his walking stick most of the time
- Frail
- Poor eyesight without his glasses

Character look-a-like image:

Character fitting music and/or song:

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Clothing and/or protective armour and markings (bruises, scratches, etc) on the limbs:

Head:

Torso: Wears a pair of braces over a white vest with a hole-ridden retro styled jumper on top. Wears his fatigue jacket to cover the abomination.

Arms/Hands: Has a pair of mangy cotton gloves if it ever gets too cold.

Legs/Feet: Wears a plain pair of jeans. If he's his apartment he favours to stride around in his pants (the UK version).

Weaponry: His issued walking stick is good for swatting plebs and his sharp wit cuts through people like a hot knife through butter (at least Clive thinks so).

Lost and/or replacement limbs or parts?:

Skills, perks and/or traits of the character:

-Good vocabulary of insults

Weaknesses and/or severe flaws:

-His health is deteriorating
-His tongue gets the better of him
-Doesn't like to be helped as it makes him feel old - he can't really comprehend being a pensioner

Lewis's Tool Trust Application

Age: 16
Time in HL2RP: Been w/ CG since April 2011,  so roughly 3 years

Character Name(s):
Francis Kelso


What will you use Tool Trust for?
Using props to create a more visually appealing RP environment rather than having to use a barebones, empty apartment.

Have you ever had Tool Trust removed? No

What the title says, really. I left my car's engine on at about 90% fuel, came back about fifteen minutes later and it was down at about 20%. Cars already use fuel quickly (it's understandable because OCRP isn't all super realistic) but when a car uses up nearly its full tank while idling for a short period of time, it doesn't even make any sense.

ask me anything you want apart from "hello lewis i am retarded what's your real name?"

Player Section

Steam Name: Lewis
Age: Fourteen
How long have you been Roleplaying? (can be any game): About a year and two months
How long have you been playing Serious GMod RP?: Coming up to a year in about two weeks

Character Section

Authorization(s):
A character from the Yanomami tribe that dwells in Brazil and Venezuela in the Amazon; a bow and three ready-made arrows; hunting and tracking skills.

Name: 'Akanado'
Age: Twenty-nine
Gender: Male
Affiliation: None

Write a detailed in-canon back-story how your character obtained these authorizations.
   The man awoke with a start, his palms sweaty and his forehead covered in beads of sweat. He looked around at his surroundings, and was rather frightened to see a large hand press down on his forehead.
            
            “Rest, sacred one. The forest spirits have spared you, for whatever reason,” spoke the voice, helping to untangle the recently-awoken man from his tangle of bedcovers. “You are in safe hands now.”
            
            The man sat up slowly, turning towards the older man who had helped him. He began to speak, although he was stopped by the older man, who began to speak again.
            
            “Most of the forest is gone, o’ sacred one, but luckily we were too deep in the forest for the spirits to find us. They have burnt most of it down and it is advisable you get out and stop them.”
            
            The man who was sitting down was simply known as Akanado – his small section of the Yanomami tribe hadn’t even heard of the concept of using surnames – and was a member of the Yanomami. He was born into a hunting village which had allied itself with another village that was in the stages of shifting cultivation. This was good, as they frequently traded with each other, Akanado’s – known as “Akan” among his fellow villagers – home village trading meats and the other giving crops. Sadly, it didn’t go on for more than a few years, as the Yanomami were known as quite a violent tribe and many disputes evolved between the two trading partners.
            
            From an early age, Akanado was trained in the ways of the tribe, in his earliest years, he was taught on how to create small traps using the limited supplies which they had, such as branches twisted to form a pliable rope, pieces of wood and plants that were quite an acquired taste to the animals. He was taught to be independent, and if he didn't get his own food, he would have to rely on the pity of his fellow tribesmen, which sometimes didn't work. Akanado enjoyed his life there, as he had known no other. The only people from outside the tribe he had ever seen were the men used the river every month or so, and the one occasion a group of people with cameras came, and stayed a few hundred metres away from the camp, coming in each day, filming the tribe. The older men, such as the shamans and the chiefs spoke to the camera-wielding people as he was forbidden to talk to them. They left after a few weeks and Akanado grew to know that was a once in a lifetime occasion.
            
            At the age of eight, Akanado began learning how to craft his own work tools, such as fishing rods, knives, along with apparel like headdresses and some techniques involving mixing paints, and the correct methods to apply them. It was around this stage that he was taught how to fish, which went on for about a week or so, before the training stopped and nobody was teaching him. It took him a couple of days to realise, but he had to use his previous training to make his own fishing rod. He spent countless days and nights creating his rod, a carved piece of wood, arcing ever so slightly, painted with symbols and colours. Rather than having a piece of string on it, and a hook, it was simply just a hook at the end, but Akanado was supposed to use the rod and a piece of woven rope at the same time; using the net to drag in the fish, and the rod to hook them out.
            
            This was how he fed himself for three years, eating fish. The only thing that he got for free was the imported vegetables; everybody got a share of them. At the age of fifteen, Akanado began his final piece of training before he would officially become a hunter for the village. He, with no knowledge, except his past training years ago, was instructed to construct his own bow, quiver, and set of twenty arrows. He spent countless nights in the workshop, filing away at the wood, gluing, filing some more, bending the wood, filing again, decorating, and filing. It went on for six months, until he was actually happy with what he had. He had scrapped it multiple times, beginning again each time from scratch. When he had finally finished the bow, arrows and quiver, he had to present them all to the chief, and if the chief was happy with his job, he was part of the hunters. It was a triumph for Akanado; the chief was happy with his work. And so, from the young - yet not unusual for the tribe - age of sixteen, he was part of the hunting party. Akanado continued hunting for the village for seven years, until that fateful night...
            
            Akanado pushed himself from the bed, feeling sticky with drying sweat. He towered over the old man and was given back his bow and spear. It was odd to think that he was the sacred one, he always thought he was that unimportant boy… or was he really the one who would defend his tribe from the evil spirits? He shook his head in disbelief, ducking under the doorway, into the bright light of the day. The people of the village looked quite sad and tired, most likely from the presumed attack of the spirits. He couldn’t even remember what had happened last night. People of the village stared at him, was it awe, jealousy, or even anger? He made his way through the forest clearing, using his spear to help himself walk. Once he made it through the clearing, he looked around at his surroundings in horror. The forest, for at least a kilometer around, was scorched to the ground, with tree stumps dotted around, still smoldering. In the middle of the clearing there was a strange piece of scorched material. It was lighter on one side and rather soft, and on the other, hard and metallic-like. He prodded it with his spear and waited for a reaction.
            
            “Must be a dead spirit,” thought Akanado, poking it with his spear.
            
            Unbeknownst to Akanado, it was a single unit of the gargantuan Combine army. Unbeknownst to Akanado, the Combine were already here. Unbeknownst to Akanado, the Combine would get him.
            
            The trees around him began to rustle, the leaves began to shake off, then some branches and eventually part of a tree cracked off with a blast of light. A flying object swooshed over the trees with five more following it in a straight line. The last object turned around, presumably sighting Akanado. It shot near him, although most of them hit the trees behind him. It took him a minute to realise it was trying to shoot the trees behind him, and then it took him a second to realise fragments of a tree were flying at him.
            
            Two men dressed in blue clothing stayed low in an alleyway, one of them prodding a third man lying on the ground with his right index finger.
            
            “Blimey, those CWU guys threw him out after he didn’t wake up, I guess,” spoke a man in a thick Londoner’s accent.

            “He was the one in that coma, right?” asked his Chinese companion.

            “Yeah,” replied the Londoner. “Well, come on, give us a hand, we can’t just let him lie here.”
         
            The two men grabbed the man – Akanado – and quickly carried him away. They moved into a building opposite the alleyway, worked their way through the crowd and into a ground floor apartment, and dropped Akanado onto a couch.
         
            “Say, have you ever noticed how suspicious it is to drag around a lifeless man?” sarcastically jibed the Chinese male.
         
            His companion said nothing, instead peeking out of the window, watching the early morning street. It was fairly empty.
         
            “I’m betting this one – “spoke the Londoner, pointing to a masked figure wielding a long metal baton and was leaning again a wall, “is probably sleeping, and that one, and that one.”
         
            “You’re so cocky, but either way, we need to get to the other district, because I’m not being caught with some comatose who is bound to wake up any time soon and will probably go ape-shit,” replied the Chinese man.
         
            “Right, right, give us a minute.”
         
            The Londoner left the room, and returned a few minutes with a cleaning cart with the letters of ‘CWU’ painted on the side of it. He, along with the help of the Chinese man, dumped Akanado in the cart and covered him in dirty cleaning rags. They slowly pushed it out on to the street, and to their joy, nobody even glanced at them pushing the cart along. Gradually they began to increase their speed as they came to a large bluish structure between two buildings.
         
            “Here comes the fun…” mumbled the Londoner, beginning to push the cart a lot faster than before.
         
            They pushed it right through, running at full speed while pushing the cart, before they turned off, the cart freewheeling ahead.
         
            “Hold it right there, citizens!” came an almost robotic voice.
         
            There was a stamp of boots as two figures emerged through the gate and pursued the two men, leaving the cart to roll down the hill beyond the gate. Two gunshots rang out, then all was silent. It tumbled down the hill, and luckily, for its ‘passenger’, hit a wall and stopped. The cart lay for a few hours, before its passenger climbed out, rolling onto the ground. He coughed heavily, looking around. He was outside of a garage, in the outskirts of a city.
         
            This was all too much for him. Akanado resided in the garage for a few days, creating a den of sorts, in the storage room. He wasn't going to last without food, he believed that he could possibly hunt out where he was; he knew barely anything about outside of the Amazon, only what it looked like and now he was here, with no knowledge of what to do. Akanado began to try and recreate his tools from when he was a hunter in the village, starting with his bow. He began almost immediately, gathering up anything he could.

            He ventured outside for the first time in days, moving towards a building he saw on his way to the garage. It was a block of apartments, with scaffolding up one side; it was obviously in the middle of being repaired. He took a few minutes, examining the planks of wood, taking the two straightest pieces that he could find, before he went back to the garage. Akanado took his time, carving away at the wood with the tools inside the garage, trying to make the best bow he could.
            
            As the wood didn’t have a natural curve, Akanado had to do his best to curve it artificially, by putting weights on the side and ever so slightly increasing the payload, so that it wouldn’t snap. In the end, it was quite primitive and badly made, but considering the circumstances and materials he had now, it was the best he could do. Akanado moved away from the garage after a few more days of picking through the rubbish for food, taking cautious and slow steps to observe his surroundings as he moved through the derelict streets of the outer area of the city. He brought with him a cart of tools and spare materials from the garage, stowing it in a warehouse. Akanado spent a few careful nights (taking his time in case any of the ‘spirits’ heard him), cutting the sharp, spear-like tops from the spiked fencing outside with anything he could from the collection of tools, until he had ten or so of the spikes. Using the remainder of his wood, he carved pieces down, until the number of spikes and wood were the same. He spent another day adding to his arrows, decorating them and adding the finishing touches.

            Having finally gathered up tools, Akanado began to head further into the alien countryside, his stomach rumbling and his mouth dry. He took long routes and tried to move slowly and carefully when possible, as he still believed the spirits to be on his tail, watching his every move. He caught a few small animals and gratefully ate them on his weeklong journey, trying not to use his bow in case it broke.
            
            It was one day while venturing across the barren industrial areas he had came across a large group of people walking down a road. They were laden with supplies, and appeared to be talking something about “heading to the mountains” and “catching up the others”.
            
            Akanado, not really paying attention to the danger he could get himself in, began to follow the men, as they would probably know the place better than he did. As he followed them along, he would make sure at night he stayed at least a few hundred metres away, although that left him having to get up earlier in the morning to catch up on them. The environment began to change drastically. Water treatment plants turned into mountainous ridges, warehouses turned into shacks and villages, stinking canals into V-shaped valleys.
         
            After a while, Akanado eventually broke off from following them and went off the beaten path, moving through forests (that were, unfortunately, not rainforests). He stumbled upon a town with a vandalised and worn-out post. He struggled to read it, as it wasn’t even in English. It was something along the lines of “Beies”, or maybe “Bels”, he wasn’t too sure.
         
            With his bow and primitive utensils in hand, his face and body decorated in traditional paints and his stomach rumbling, Akanado stands at the entrance to Beles, trying to decipher the post…
         
            From here, his story takes off into Outlands at the current in-chat time.


What will these authorizations give your character in regards to perks or defects?
Perks
A method of killing small game, coupled with hunting skills which would aid this killing.
Possible means of defence/intimidation against people if it comes to situations that dire.
Has some skill with making primitive tools and surviving with fancy technology, so he knows how to survive (in the right environment and conditions, of course).


Defects
Doesn't know a word of English and only speaks the language of Yanam.
The Yanomami are quite a violent and hostile tribe that don't just fight other tribes, but fight amongst themselves, so Akanado is quite violent and hostile.
As he doesn't know any English, he may intercept some messages wrong and possibly get annoyed.
He's only been living in a single environment (the Amazon) for all his life, so it's a drastic change to be in a different place.
He only has three good arrows, so if they break, all he'll have to use are stones for arrowheads, unless he can find materials.
His bow isn't a state of the art hunting bow and it's not made for taking down elephants, so it's not extremely durable, meaning it'll have to be repaired quite a lot.
Just because he has hunting and tracking skills, there might not even be any animals that are alive.
Akanado has bad social skills as he's been isolated from modern society for all his life.
He barely understands modern technology; the most he could do is probably turn on a television.

What do you plan to do with these perks/defects?
I want to try and bring fear back to the Outlands, really. Since OTA require an owner's permission to deploy, people just walk around without a care in the world, like it's a wonderland. While I'm not going to be all "/me shoots man in the neck with arrow, he dies.", I'm going to try and make people scared again by being a territorial, technology and socially incapable man who uses primitive tools to survive and defend himself, while keeping a rather violent attitude towards people. With this, I'm going to try not to hurt people IC, but if what they do IC causes my character to react violently in a way, so be it.

Will anyone else need these auths? (If so, list OOC and IC name(s))
Nope.

Which server does this apply for?
Outlands

Extra Notes (optional):
I'm not asking for a crossbow btw, it's an IC weapon that I'm applying for.