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.
__________________________________

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."
__________________________________

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.
__________________________________

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.
__________________________________

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."
__________________________________

"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 )

Steam Name: Frolie
Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:41729694
Character Name: Alex Korbin
Reason for the switch: Accidently clicked the wrong character
If required, write a detailed backstory on how your character left the outlands: N/A
Time when it happened(if mis-click): Earlier today, around 3 or 4.

Player Section

Steam Name: Frolie
Age: 14
How long have you been Roleplaying? (can be any game): About 5 years or so (Oblivion and Fallout 3).
How long have you been playing Serious GMod RP?: About a year.

Character Section

Authorization(s):
-Extensive Computer Technology Expertise.

-Access to complex technological hardware, namely Circuit Converters and Microcontroller parts.

Name: Alex Korbin
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Affiliation: Resistance

Write a detailed in-canon back-story how your character obtained these authorizations.
Born in Brooklyn in 1995, Alex Korbin was the second child of Netia Korbin. Alex would never know his own father, or that of his brother, though he knew them to be different people. Mikhail, Alex’s brother, was born in Russia 10 years prior to Alex’s birth, before he and his mother immigrated to America. Netia made little money, and struggled to provide for her two sons. She tried her best to care for Alex and Mikhail, but with the small amount of money she made, she knew that she would never be able to provide for them healthily.

Even as an infant, signs of mental anguish were evident in Alex. He would rarely sleep, and constantly screamed and cried when awake. He would often spend several consecutive days awake in this state. Netia felt horribly guilty, believing that her inability to provide for her child was the reason for his distress. To remedy this, she left Alex in the care of Mikhail while she took up a second job. Consequently, Mikhail never went to school, and cared for Alex through most of his infancy.

The small family continued to live in poverty for several more years, until Alex had reached the age of 8. Though his seemingly nonsensical fits of terror had, for the most part, stopped, he grew more and more of an oddity as he aged. He rarely spoke, rarely ate, rarely sleep, and never left their cramped apartment. Although his mother and brother knew that something was wrong with him, they didn’t have the money to take him to a doctor. It was around this time when Netia, Alex’s mother, disappeared. She went off to her night job, leaving Alex in Mikhail’s care, and never returned. Mikhail, who was now 18, later became Alex’s legal guardian.

Mikhail was desperate for money, and the lowly minimum-wage job he had wasn’t enough to provide for himself and Alex. Anxious for cash, he eventually fell in with a dangerous Russian gang, hoping to get just enough money to take Alex to the doctor. Alex knew that Mikhail had joined a gang, but he never learned what Mikhail actually did. With the money from his new “job”, Mikhail took Alex to a doctor, who directed him to a psychotherapist, who eventually diagnosed Alex as a schizophrenic, and many years later, also diagnosed him with a delusional personality disorder. Mikhail paid for his medication easily, as well as upgrading their living accommodations, and purchasing Alex his first computer when he was 12 (with the intent of online schooling).

Online schooling was far from Alex’s interest range. His interest in electronics was piqued the moment he turned his computer on. In lieu of interest in what it could do, he was first obsessed with how it worked. The very night he received the device, he stripped it apart to learn how it worked. At first, Mikhail was furious in the fact that the money that he had literally risked his life for had been torn apart. However, he later realized that this was the first thing that Alex had any passionate interest in. Determined to keep his asocial brother interested in something, if not anything, Mikhail became much more involved with the Russian crime family.

By the time that Alex was 15, Mikhail (now at the age of 25) was personally managing several different people to aid the multi-pronged crime operation. Even Alex was in on the crime family. By then, Alex had honed his craftsmanship with computer software and hardware to a professional standard, and utilized his skills by laundering money through a false business. Mikhail was hesitant to allow his only brother to collaborate in his work, but Alex insisted, and being that he still wouldn’t leave the house, he grudgingly accepted.

By the time that Alex was 19, the crime circuit had gotten out of control. The crimes perpetrated by the gang’s members became increasingly violent and risky. Mikhail knew that if he continued to involve Alex in his work, then he would eventually put him in jail, or worse, get him killed.

Alex’s life changed radically in the following months. Mikhail and another gang member were robbing a convenience store at gunpoint, when the gang member suddenly shot and killed the clerk. Mikhail knew he had to leave town immediately, before implicating himself and his brother in the crimes. He cut his ties with the rest of the crime family, left Alex a large amount of money to manage his way through the next few months, then left, promising Alex that he would return when enough time has passed.

Without some one to make sure he stayed in check, Alex quickly became a frantic mess. Within a week of Mikhail’s departure, Alex found himself in the hospital. His delirium was so extreme that he couldn’t recall how he got there. The doctors told him that some he had attempted suicide. Alex’s landlady (who had come by to collect the rent that Mikhail had forgotten to pay during his anxious need to leave town) had found him, crumpled inside his bathtub after slitting his wrists.

After he physically recovered in the intensive care floor of the hospital, Alex was transferred to the mental rehabilitation ward for a mandatory three days. It was during his time recovering in the hospital that the combine invasion began. He watched on the news as the seven-hour war began. The battle had not yet reached New York, and the National Guard was orchestrating emergency evacuations. Amidst the chaos, Alex found himself back at his apartment. Ever consumed with electronics, Alex managed to pack two duffel bags full of his most valued projects and tools before the combine actually arrived in the city.

As Alex exited his apartment, a bus loaded with evacuees picked him up as he fled from the warfare. The bus didn’t make it too far; in fact, it barely traveled more than two blocks before a combine unit careened it into a subway entrance. Alex was among the few survivors of the crash. An armed National Guard corporal directed them into the subway tunnels, which Alex (with his bags in tow) and the remaining humans fled into for what would be the remainder of the seven-hour war.

When the survivors were found in the subway tunnel a day after Breen negotiated for the safety of earth, they were rushed through the registration and location processes. Alex was in a complete haze. With diminishing blood loss from his suicide attempt, and his lack of medication, he wasn’t able to distinguish reality from hallucination. His bags, of course, were confiscated, and he was shipped off to live in what would later be recognized as city 45.

With the small amount of connection to reality he had, Alex managed to lie low for the next few months. He thought that if he considered rebellion, even thought of it, that death was certain. His opinions towards resistance changed during a violent riot amongst the citizens of the city. His inspiration didn’t come from observing the vigor of the citizens, but from a chance occurrence that he couldn’t help but interpret as some kind of sign.

That chance occurrence was the discovery of his old gear; the two duffle bags he had stuffed full of his tools and projects. The bags were simply lying on the floor of an open apartment room. Not able to comprehend how they possibly could have gotten to the city, Alex was convinced that their appearance was a sign from the Shepherd (One of the primary voices who speaks to Alex. He’s much more detailed ICly) that his purpose in the city was to fight the Universal Union.

After the discovery of his old gear, Alex retreated to a hide-out in the slums. His fascination for UU technology and his motivation for resistance is the only thing that has managed to keep him from deterioration. With no exact plan, he continues to linger in District 6, waiting for his moment,

*This is just a short note detailing how his bags actually wound up in the city*
When his bags had been confiscated during the preliminary registration process, they had been loaded onto a train to be completely destroyed. The particular train car containing the bags derailed shortly outside of City45, and was discovered many years later buy scavengers looking for tings to sell in District six. Although they seemed to be worth a lot, they were next to worthless because no one knew how to properly use them. Without purpose for the equipment, the vendor who discovered the bags sold them at an extremely low price to a young rebel who thought he could one day make use of them. In a rush to aid in the riot the day Alex discovered the bags, he left his door wide open.

What will these authorizations give your character in regards to perks or defects?
Perks
- Extreme knowledge in electronics and complex computers
- Tools and equipment involved in complex technological hardware manufacturing

Defects
- Alex's mental illness make him unpredictable. His actions put him at extreme risk of being noticed by CPs and Overwatch.
- Alex's dependance on others for social stability makes him easily manipulable.
- Alex's ability to produce any fruitful information or technology is critically impaired by his inability to get new hardware.


What do you plan to do with these perks/defects?
I've always though that the role-play on city was kind of predictable. The lolwebuls would do something stupid and non-effective, the UU would crush everything and anything, and most citizens would go on in their constant delirium. With my auths, I hope to contribute to another angle in city life, and also enhance passive RP, as any progress would take inane amounts of work.

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

Which server does this apply for?
Both

Extra Notes (optional):
I selected both servers, because I'm not quite sure where the unpredictable RP of this character will take me.

Player Section

Steam Name: Dr. Wubs
Age: 14
How long have you been Roleplaying? (can be any game): About 5 years or so (Oblivion and Fallout 3).
How long have you been playing Serious GMod RP?: About a year.

Character Section

Authorization(s):
- Knowledge required for making improvised explosives and gases

Name: Jessie Calverne
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Affiliation: None

Write a detailed in-canon back-story how your character obtained these authorizations.
     Before the seven hour war:

   Born on a farm in rural Nebraska, Jessie's childhood was a disturbing tale. His sadistic father, his only parent, beat him mercilessly on a constant basis, and sexually abused him frequently . Jessie's mental capacity wore thin over time, and eventually broke when he was twelve years old. While his father slept, Jessie took his fathers rifle from on top of the fridge, and shot him in the head. He left his fathers corpse in the room, and carried on with the farm chores as though nothing had changed. This continued for about five weeks, until a stranger stopped for directions, noticed the smell of the fathers rotting corpse, and called the sheriff of the closest town.
   In response to his actions, it was eventually decided that Jessie would be mandatorily institutionalized until he was deemed fit for society. Despite what he had done, Jessie seemed to be completely normal. After four months, he was officially declared "stable", and was put into foster care. After three years in the system, Jessie was relocated to New York City, were he spent five months with a negligent single mother before running away, hoping to find something better on the streets.
   
   (Just a note, the backstory is now going to become more comprehensive, as this details how Jessie came to have in-depth knowledge about explosives/poisonous gases manufacturing)

  Having been raised in a rural environment, Jessie knew nothing about surviving on the streets. Now 15, Jessie was desperate for food and shelter. His hate for the average human intensified when he resorted to begging. No one showed any compassion. He was often spit at, or cursed at. The culmination of a manipulable youth capable of murder, with a fractured mental ideology and a hate for just about anyone, Jessie was the model recruit for extremists. A russian man that went by Yuri invited Jessie into his home. For a week, he feed him, and allowed him to live in his home. However, as Jessie became comfortable with Yuri, Yuri began to fill his head with wild idea's and extreme propositions. He said that humanity had beaten them, and that humanity deserved to be beaten back. Jessie listened, and when the time came, Yuri introduced him to his friends.
   Yuri, and the majority of his friends, were illegal immigrants from over-seas. When they reached America by boat, it was difficult to get jobs. They were the subject of discrimination, and occasionally beating, due to being foreigners. Feed up with this treatment, they collectively formed the True Human Coalition, an extremist group set on striking back against the society that treated them like dirt. Jessie was introduced to the group after having lived with Yuri for a full month. Yuri introduced Jessie to Mikhail, who had previously belonged to a Serbian terrorist cell. Mikhail was extremely well informed about improvised weapons, primarily explosives and poisonous gases. Mikhail spent months teaching Jessie everything he knew, from simple gases like amonia and bleach, to complex explosives like crystalized mercury. While Mikhail mentored Jessie, Yuri and his right-hand man Aleksy planned where they would strike, when the time came.
   After a year and a half of collective teaching and planning, Mikhail introduced Jessie to their primary weapon: Botulinum Toxin. This protein could be mass replicated with a certain bacterium, and released in the form of a gas. Upon skin, eye, or internal contact, it shuts down the nervous system, causing the victim to have extreme seizures, eventually resulting in a coma, and finally death; all in under 3 minutes. Taking the gases properties into consideration, Yuri and Aleksy thought of the perfect place to unleash their weapon: John F. Kennedy Airport. They planned to drive several vans right into the building, with the gas loaded in pressurized tanks inside the vehicles. The crashes would be enough to puncture the cans inside the vehicles, and the gas would be propelled out of the vehicle by the explosion. With correct timing, the kill count would be massive.
  The day of the proposed attack was grimly brilliant: Christmas weekend. Thousands would be flying in and out to visit their loved ones for the holidays, which would ensure that the population of the airport would be high. All together, they had come up with eleven vans, each one filled with eight large cans of pressurized Botulinum. The vans would drive either through the walk in entrances, and the cargo entrances, hitting the airport at every angle to insure maximum causalities. However, on the night of the attack their plan stopped.
  Some one working closely with the coalition had been working as an informant. As the vans drove to their positions, helicopters and BTRs appeared from seemingly no where. Every vehicle was stopped before it reached its target, and no one was killed by the gases. Shortly after, the police attempted to raid the warehouse that the True Human Coalition was using as a compound, but were met with gunfire and explosives. Inside the weapons lab of the building, Jessie and Mikhail scrambled to pack their things, namely their lab clothing, gas masks, notes, and promising experiments they had been working on together. They managed to slip inside of an evacuation tunnel they had installed, which utilized a short connection of subway tunnels and sewer systems to escape the building. The two managed to flee from the city, and get to a safe house shortly outside of the city limits. They waited for eight days before finally getting a call on Mikhail's pre-paid phone, which was only to be used should they be discovered.
   The call was from Yuri, who had some how managed to escape the police as well. Yuri told Mikhail that he had no doubt in his mind when he accused Jessie of leaking the attack details to the police. Yuri ordered that Mikhail kill Jessie immediately. Jessie was attempting to get a fire started in the living room fireplace when Mikhail entered, gun in hand, and demanded to know if Jessie had told the police of the coalition's intentions. Jessie denied it, stating that he had been loyal to the cause since the day he met Yuri. Mikhail couldn't bring himself to kill Jessie, and eventually set the gun down. However, the compassion between Jessie and Mikhail wasn't mutual. In a homage to his first murder, Jessie killed Mikhail the following night with a tire iron, and fled the safe house in search of a new life some where else.
   Knowing that he wouldn't last long in the united states before the feds tracked him down, Jessie took both his and Mikhail's bags onto a storage freighter, were he smuggled himself across the sea in a container filled with crates of oranges. When the freighter stopped, he found himself in Sweden. Shortly after arriving in Stockholm, he found himself running from a different enemy.

     The Seven Hour war begins

   Gunfire, soldiers, and vehicles roared all around him as Jessie cowered inside the small hotel he found refuge in. He had pulled a gas mask over his head as a pre-caution, and was nervously gripping Mikhail's pistol as he anxiously awaited anyone breaching his makeshift barrier. He braced himself against the wall, gun shakily pointed towards the doorway for 4 hours. The gunfire had died down for the most part, but there was still the occasional bang of a fire arm, or the infrequent pop of a pulse-rifle. Suddenly, rushed foot steps approached the door, followed by a swift kick the blew the door completely of it's hinges, and directly into Jessie. He crumpled against the wall and fired four shots through the door that pressed on him, and was rewarded with the mechanized scream of a combine soldier, and the squawking over the radio.
   Pushing the door off himself, Jessie swung the bag over his shoulder, feeling the need to relocate. Squeezing through the narrow window in the bathroom, he took off into the woods, traversing towards the south.

     1 & 1/2 year later.

   Jessie had been traveling south for a year and half from Sweden, passing Combine detection through Denmark, Germany, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, and Hungary before finally finding a place to settle where others had settled: Romania. He mostly stumbled upon the sub-society of runaway citizens by accident, but had read of it on a small map some citizen had evidently left behind. Settling in the woods in hopes of avoiding interaction with other citizens, he now survives in a small, shoddily built shack over looking the lake. Mikhail and his notes and weapons are now buried in a small case outside of Jessie's shack, laying dormant should they ever need to be used.

What will these authorizations give your character in regards to perks or defects?
Perks
- The know-how to make improvised explosives and gases
- The equipment Jessie escaped with (including the apparel, just for my char's description).

Defects
- Extremely paranoid (this isn't effected by my auths, just my char's personality).
- Heavier load to carry
- He may be recognized as a member of the True Human Coalition (the group was as all over the news after the terror attack attempt)
-

What do you plan to do with these perks/defects?
- Passive roleplay for when the server is slow (i.e. building the afore mentioned gases/explosives).
- Assisting or attacking different factions, depending on my IC relationships with them.

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

Which server does this apply for?
Outlands

Extra Notes (optional):
I gotta apologize for my complete absence of dialogue. My story telling abilities are rather lacking