Price Masterson\'s Authorization Application

[Reaver]

Player Section

Steam Name: Reaver/Multiple variations of that.
Age: 19
How long have you been Roleplaying? (can be any game): Multiple years.
How long have you been playing Serious GMod RP?: Three years.

Character Section

Authorization(s):
-A Safari Grade BAR Mk. II Browning Hunting Rifle (I assumed this would fall under the umbrella of MP7s, since it's still a rifle, however only semi-automatic, but still a rifle none-the-less.)
-Ammunition for said rifle.
-Dark Chapel Security Jacket.

Name: Price Masterson
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Affiliation: Resistance

Write a detailed in-canon back-story how your character obtained these authorizations.
The loud roar of the engine was starting to get annoying. Price's hands were bound behind his back, and a bag was over his head. He could see little through the combination of his balaclava and the ruck-sack tied off around his neck. He wasn't concerned, this was a regular occurrence, and had been for several months now. He sat quietly for what felt like ages, and indeed it was quite a long while. During this leg of the journey, he had been in the bed of the truck for a good seventeen hours. The day before, he had been in it for twelve. They were getting close, and they should be there within the next few hours.
The truck lurched forward, then back, sending him tumbling backwards onto the bed of the vehicle.
"We're here."
Oops. Bad guess at time.
The gruff voice could be heard coming closer. Before long, the bag was untied and removed from his head. He sat up slowly, allowing the man to untie his hands. Price heard a chuckle as they helped him out of the truck, "Bag must be nothin' new to you, G-Man. Wearin' the cloth over your face all the fuckin' time."
Price rolled his eyes, something unseen behind his balaclava. He arched his shoulders, looking around at the familiar surroundings. They were deep within a rocky crevice, little light made it down here, thanks to a number of rocky over-hands above them which zig-zagged against themselves. They were immediately in front of a large gate with several armed guards flanking either side. The one on the left nodded politely at him, the one on the right however, glared. Price and his two escorts made their way towards the locked fence, both men flashing a key-card. The guards threw open the gate, giving them entry. Price lagged behind some-what, still in relative awe at the fact that this group of individuals could remain out of Combine detection for such a long time. This thought was cut short, as a large amoutn of force sent him staggering to his left.
He knew what it was.
The guard to the right flicked the suited male off, scowling, "Fuck you, you fuck up around here and I'll be the one to put holes in you, and it won't be fucking slow."
Price sneered behind his balaclava, a gesture detected by the other man, who flushed red with rage.
"Woah there, Skippy," Price retorted, "Didn't know it was your wife. Maybe that wouldn't have happened if she wasn't so loose. Never once mentioned you, but.." He continued through the gate, yelling out, "She's mentioned me several times!" He jolted into a run, catching up with his escorts while the enraged screams from behind him broke off into a slew of curses. The second he caught up, he got a nice little smack on the side of the head.

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The trio had to pass through a mile of jagged rocks and rough terrain, bending, ducking, jumping and scaling rocks in order to get to a large opening in the rock-face. The opening, as it seemed, was just that. A sizable hole in the side of the mountains. But what was inside, was what mattered.

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Another gate, another group of guards. Yet another door, yet another pair of armed men. A final entrance, a final duo of males totting guns. It was tedious, but Price understood why it was needed. The final door was thrown open, and Price was greeted by a spacious cavern that may have been an old mine. Lanterns hung from the roof, and electrical currents were all lined up nicely to a number of Transformers that were stacked amongst the walls. There were a large number of small buildings in the centre, and men and women were sauntering around, going about their business. By their attire, it was obvious that these were individuals of no consequence. People that called this place home.
"Price, you jack-ass, get over here."
The suited male jerked his head to one side, seeing an older man dressed in a blue flak-jacket, hands placed leisurely against his hip-bones. His facial expression was warm, and his lips were spread into a welcoming grin.
"I hope Tim and Tom didn't give you much trouble," the man called after him.
"Nah, they were nice enough. Better than the first time I came in here." Price quipped, walking towards the man with an extended hand.
The man gripped Price's palm, jerking it up and down in a strong hand-shake, "What brings you here this time? I hope you have something to tell us."
Masterson shrugged, eyeing the older gentleman with a grin, "Nothing bad to tell ye, but people are starting to hear about you lot because of Seymore. He's spouting of shit randomly. Poor old guy's gone senile. But if you need me to, I can kick him in the ass, or push him off a cliff, John."
John huffed, pursing his lips, "Seymore was a good man, but something bad's gotten to him. He needs to be put down before he reveals our location. I could do without the Union busting in here, guns-a-blazing. We can deal with humans, but we can't deal with Overwatch."
"They are human."
"No they aren't."
"John. Yes they are."
The larger male canted his head to the side, "No, they're fucking not. Or at least not anymore. But let's not talk about this. I'm going to need you to deal with Old Seeing-Eye Seymore."
Price inhaled, then exhaled in a long drawn out sigh, "I hope you don't expect me to just blow his head off. The guy was a good bloke, couldn't I deliver him back to Dark Chapel?"
"No, if he's been talking about us that much, then we can't swoop in and take him away. There are undoubtedly people watching him, and maybe Overwatch too. It'd be too risky. We need him put out of commission."
"Can I at least-"
"No, if you plan on continuing any interactions with us, then I'm going to suggest you do as I ask. Seymore has been causing more trouble than he's worth. And no matter how much it hurts for me to say this, he has to die."
Price throws his hands up, bending his head back to release a loud groan, "Fine. But I'm not doing shit unless you give me something better than a hand-held to do away with him. That'd include me gettin' close enough to kill him without missing his head. And then people would be watching me."
"Naturally, we've already spoken with Director Tennise, we're authorized to supply you with more fire-power."
"I want something with rockets."
"No."
"Snip-"
"No."
"Do I get anything fun?"
"You get what we give you. We don't even have to let you stay here."
"Yeah, but you have to give me something to pick him off from a distance."
John runs his teeth over his bottom lip, flaring his nostrils, "You get a rifle. That's it. Nothing fancy either, semi-automatic. No super bunker-bustin' mega uber rifle. Just a good old hunting rifle."
"Does it loo-" Price began, but he was quickly cut off.
John had raised his hand, keeping Price from continuing on with his sentence. He rummaged inside of a large crate before pulling out a intricately designed rifle, the muzzle of which was covered by what seemed to be a carved eagle's beak.
"Nothing fancy my ass." Price yelled giddily ,"That mother's sexy."
John sneered, pulling out two cartridges, shoving them into Price's chest, "Yeah, well you'd better put it to good use. It belonged to Tarren. May he rest in peace." John lowered his head, placing his hand against his chest for a moment of silence.
"Maybe if he hadn't pissed off Gerald, he'd still be alive. That fucker's insane as it is. He practically started the fight to begin with." The suited man responded, peering down the Hunting Rifle's sights, aiming it around at the ceiling.
"He didn't deserve to die, Price." John mewled, sighing.
"Then maybe he shouldn't have tripped Gerald down a flight of stairs." Price mumbled, too entranced in fingering the contours of his new toy. He raised it up, slinging it over his back before stuffing the cartridges into his bag, "So, I assume Tim and Tom get to d rive me back to that shit-hole now."
"Yup."
"Do I get a kiss goodbye?"
"Shut up."
Price snickered, extending his hand, "Until we meet again? When the boys drop off my next shipment, I'll make sure to have something better to tell you all. And if we're lucky, Seymore will be gone."
John took the hand, shaking it heartily, "Don't die, Price. You're the only idiot we can find who won't blather off about us to everyone he sees, and still wants to stick around out there, instead of staying with us in here."
"Yup, tell Wade I said that next time I come back I want him to stop fuckin' his woman and make me something nice to eat." Price quipped.
"Wade hates you."
"And?"
John smirked, shaking his head before turning Price around, shoving him back towards Tim and Tom, "Get going. And keep in touch."
Price nodded slowly, walking back towards the entrance of the cavern, the brothers leading him forward.



What will these authorizations give your character in regards to perks or defects?
Perks
A rifle, naturally. Price is authorized to be skilled with rifles, so that's an addition.

Defects
The more times he is transported to and from Dark Chapel, the more the base risks detection.

What do you plan to do with these perks/defects?
Killing Seymore might alert Overwatch, if they have indeed been watching, due to the fact that rumors have been spreading about the man.
Seymore is armed, and if Price doesn't pull it off the way he's planned, he might not make it out unscathed.

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

Which server does this apply for?
Outlands

Extra Notes (optional):
I'd ask that the rifle's model NOT be MP7, and rather a CSS model, since it's like...not an MP7, yes. okty
Also, see this thread; http://www.catalyst-gaming.net/index.php?topic=23457.0
It's existence is in fact authorized.
Post Auto-Merged: March 28, 2013, 07:54:44 PMAlso, the Jacket will be optained when Seymore is killed. As he is wearing it.

[Khub]

Seeing as you want it for the Outlands, I don't see any problems. Have my support!

[[LP]GMK-MRL]

Well written and this could not only provide a reason for your supplies, but for others as well. I.E: Dark Chapel leaves someone a crate and they can use their v flags to obtain it. It doesn't have to be from Dark Chapel, but it is a good source of a background for people who are traders.

So ye. +support

[Reaver]

Khubby brought it to my attention that CS:S isn't mounted yet. So Disregard that part, a normal MP7 model would work fine until it is mounted.

[Khub]

Given people had a almost a week to review this application but nobody except me and Kronos voiced their opinion - I'm giving everyone last twenty four hours to do so, before this application is accepted (unless valid negative points are raised).

[Khub]

Nearly 48 hours have passed - this is accepted.