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Steam Name: ferrick(currently tishinka)
Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:18222295
How long have you been roleplaying?: 5-6 years
Any experience havng this auth before? Yes, I had heavy black market/trader flags Fallout RP at both Spire and LiF and I had a weapons trader in SRP, known to many as Mambo, or the crazy voodoo lady.
What are you applying for?: Some sort of black market flags, I’m okay with working my way up from the minimum.
Why should you have this?: I feel that hostilities in the server have died down for the general public and with that, humans themselves have not been given a strong chance to get themselves involved other than watching from windows and behind doors. I’d like to push for more player involvement and help push the server’s community into chaos, as lovely as that may sound. No, I don’t seek to arm trolls and mingebags, I just think that confrontations amongst serious roleplayers are more likely to occur when everyone involved is armed, especially the weaker race, humans, which will be more inclined to use them in order to defend themselves. The weapons would be illegally owned so this would also bring up conflict with FEAR, which while likeminded maybe, would have another threat and/or potential ally to deal with.
Backstory:
The outcoming of the lycans and vampires brought with them a barrage of conflict as most would expect. Murders, Hate Crimes, Rapes, you name it. Cities were not safe places to be, not that the suburbs and country were any better. However cities had larger populaces and because of that, larger riots. LA is a metropolis known for its riots. Race riots were a specialty of Los Angeles, but the ones of the past six months made the Rodney King riots look like a cakewalk. There'd been widespread looting, beatings, and even murders on all sides. As time goes on, the martial law has seen the riots dwindle down across the nation; and while time has healed the wounds of the community, it hasn't quite yet for the individuals of it.
Kareem Daniels was a simple Afghanistan veteran and car mechanic trying to get by in life. He lived in the Watts neighborhood of Los Angeles with his parents, siblings, and a two year old daughter of his own. He'd gone to county for some B&E's and drug possession charges in the past, but he'd cleaned himself up. He was working overtime and taking night classes at community college to boot. Kareem didn't care much for the fables, he figured if he minded his own business, he'd be good. As the race riots grew out of control, authority figures did too, particularly in poorer neighborhoods. With riots focusing in the more centralized regions, such as Downtown LA, it left other sections of the city to fend for themselves as more police and national guard were needed to quell the massing hordes of rioters and looters. The city was ablaze and not a soul was out and about in Watts. Closing up at his shop, everything seemed alright. There were occasional gunshots in the distance, but with the state of the city, it was to be expected. As he and his coworkers closed up and went their separate ways, he'd find that the chaos seemed to be getting closer to their neighborhood as the days went on. As he drove around the corner onto his block, he noticed a body in the distance in the road with someone hunched over it, "Fuck." he thought. He immediately got out and ran over to find that it was his neighbors, an elderly man, on the ground, and his wife crying over him as he had appeared to have bled out, or better yet drained. Kareem ran his hand along his face, shocked and not knowing what to do as there wasn't a soul in sight. "Wait." he thought. There wasn't a soul in sight and this elderly woman was in the middle of the street wailing. He looked around and noticed doors were left ajar, windows were smashed, and there wasn't a sound apart from the woman's cries. Without bothering to console his neighbor, he ran home, yelling for his family members as he approached the door that had been broken off its hinges. You could say he found a blood bath as the sight of his family strewn about was traumatizing, but there was no blood left to call it such a thing. His family had been robbed, drained, and massacred. No one was left alive.
Kareem would later find out that it had been a roaming clan of vampires, feeding on the poorer neighborhoods while authorities had more important priorities. To add insult to injury, they'd been robbed and no insurance would come in from it since the insurance companies of the area had their wallets bled dry also in the insurmountable handouts they were being forced to give. Kareem had no money for a ceremony, so he buried his family in the backyard with the help of some friends, several of which were under similar circumstances. Kareem had been hit hard and when a man has truly lost everything he values, all he lives for is vengeance, and it’s in man's biology. The police had betrayed Kareem by focusing their forces on higher priorities such as museums and rich neighborhoods. The Hunters were only the best of the best. And trusting any clan of vampires was buried in the ground with the rest of his family. He sought out the next available route, which was one of the biggest foes to many of the vampire clans, the Lycans. He'd help as an alley however he could. He helped rob supply trucks workings for the authorities to get Vervein and venom for the lycans packs he engaged with. He also did what he could with the disposal any and all silver that could be used against them. He helped where he could as an ally to the race. He wanted vengeance, but this wasn't cutting it. He wanted to take on the clans that had taken so much from him, but he knew that his own species was too weak to do so. He pleaded his case time and time again and continued to help where he could until he had finally earned the blessing of an Alpha. He would later that night be turned and able to proceed with the next chapter of his no longer meaningful life. If he was going to bring some meaning back, he'd being leaving his mark by tooth or by paw in the name of revenge. He’d already sought the help of his lycan kin, but found them to be far too sentimental and kind. With the FEAR incursion, fables had seem to come together arm and arm; and to him, that was simply unacceptable. His mission was to become his and his alone apparently, but he’d need to find ways to get better geared. He’d sought the help of those he served time with, during his in and out periods of prison time in his earlier years. After all, birds of a feather flock together. Utilizing ties he’d gained not only behind bars, but as well as less charitable characters in his old neighborhood of Watts in order to get himself and likeminded individuals the weapons and gear they’d need.
Do you agree that you will use these responsibly, and understand these can be taken away at any time? Yes.
Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:18222295
How long have you been roleplaying?: 5-6 years
Any experience havng this auth before? Yes, I had heavy black market/trader flags Fallout RP at both Spire and LiF and I had a weapons trader in SRP, known to many as Mambo, or the crazy voodoo lady.
What are you applying for?: Some sort of black market flags, I’m okay with working my way up from the minimum.
Why should you have this?: I feel that hostilities in the server have died down for the general public and with that, humans themselves have not been given a strong chance to get themselves involved other than watching from windows and behind doors. I’d like to push for more player involvement and help push the server’s community into chaos, as lovely as that may sound. No, I don’t seek to arm trolls and mingebags, I just think that confrontations amongst serious roleplayers are more likely to occur when everyone involved is armed, especially the weaker race, humans, which will be more inclined to use them in order to defend themselves. The weapons would be illegally owned so this would also bring up conflict with FEAR, which while likeminded maybe, would have another threat and/or potential ally to deal with.
Backstory:
The outcoming of the lycans and vampires brought with them a barrage of conflict as most would expect. Murders, Hate Crimes, Rapes, you name it. Cities were not safe places to be, not that the suburbs and country were any better. However cities had larger populaces and because of that, larger riots. LA is a metropolis known for its riots. Race riots were a specialty of Los Angeles, but the ones of the past six months made the Rodney King riots look like a cakewalk. There'd been widespread looting, beatings, and even murders on all sides. As time goes on, the martial law has seen the riots dwindle down across the nation; and while time has healed the wounds of the community, it hasn't quite yet for the individuals of it.
Kareem Daniels was a simple Afghanistan veteran and car mechanic trying to get by in life. He lived in the Watts neighborhood of Los Angeles with his parents, siblings, and a two year old daughter of his own. He'd gone to county for some B&E's and drug possession charges in the past, but he'd cleaned himself up. He was working overtime and taking night classes at community college to boot. Kareem didn't care much for the fables, he figured if he minded his own business, he'd be good. As the race riots grew out of control, authority figures did too, particularly in poorer neighborhoods. With riots focusing in the more centralized regions, such as Downtown LA, it left other sections of the city to fend for themselves as more police and national guard were needed to quell the massing hordes of rioters and looters. The city was ablaze and not a soul was out and about in Watts. Closing up at his shop, everything seemed alright. There were occasional gunshots in the distance, but with the state of the city, it was to be expected. As he and his coworkers closed up and went their separate ways, he'd find that the chaos seemed to be getting closer to their neighborhood as the days went on. As he drove around the corner onto his block, he noticed a body in the distance in the road with someone hunched over it, "Fuck." he thought. He immediately got out and ran over to find that it was his neighbors, an elderly man, on the ground, and his wife crying over him as he had appeared to have bled out, or better yet drained. Kareem ran his hand along his face, shocked and not knowing what to do as there wasn't a soul in sight. "Wait." he thought. There wasn't a soul in sight and this elderly woman was in the middle of the street wailing. He looked around and noticed doors were left ajar, windows were smashed, and there wasn't a sound apart from the woman's cries. Without bothering to console his neighbor, he ran home, yelling for his family members as he approached the door that had been broken off its hinges. You could say he found a blood bath as the sight of his family strewn about was traumatizing, but there was no blood left to call it such a thing. His family had been robbed, drained, and massacred. No one was left alive.
Kareem would later find out that it had been a roaming clan of vampires, feeding on the poorer neighborhoods while authorities had more important priorities. To add insult to injury, they'd been robbed and no insurance would come in from it since the insurance companies of the area had their wallets bled dry also in the insurmountable handouts they were being forced to give. Kareem had no money for a ceremony, so he buried his family in the backyard with the help of some friends, several of which were under similar circumstances. Kareem had been hit hard and when a man has truly lost everything he values, all he lives for is vengeance, and it’s in man's biology. The police had betrayed Kareem by focusing their forces on higher priorities such as museums and rich neighborhoods. The Hunters were only the best of the best. And trusting any clan of vampires was buried in the ground with the rest of his family. He sought out the next available route, which was one of the biggest foes to many of the vampire clans, the Lycans. He'd help as an alley however he could. He helped rob supply trucks workings for the authorities to get Vervein and venom for the lycans packs he engaged with. He also did what he could with the disposal any and all silver that could be used against them. He helped where he could as an ally to the race. He wanted vengeance, but this wasn't cutting it. He wanted to take on the clans that had taken so much from him, but he knew that his own species was too weak to do so. He pleaded his case time and time again and continued to help where he could until he had finally earned the blessing of an Alpha. He would later that night be turned and able to proceed with the next chapter of his no longer meaningful life. If he was going to bring some meaning back, he'd being leaving his mark by tooth or by paw in the name of revenge. He’d already sought the help of his lycan kin, but found them to be far too sentimental and kind. With the FEAR incursion, fables had seem to come together arm and arm; and to him, that was simply unacceptable. His mission was to become his and his alone apparently, but he’d need to find ways to get better geared. He’d sought the help of those he served time with, during his in and out periods of prison time in his earlier years. After all, birds of a feather flock together. Utilizing ties he’d gained not only behind bars, but as well as less charitable characters in his old neighborhood of Watts in order to get himself and likeminded individuals the weapons and gear they’d need.
Do you agree that you will use these responsibly, and understand these can be taken away at any time? Yes.
