Nightkill and G-Tech make an rp (Closed)

[Swith Witherward]

Interesting.

Give me a day or two. I'm waiting to see if an alternate history RP dies. Honestly, I don't know why I even bother to log into that puppet anymore.

[Alleniana]

Oh hmm.
Why dafuq nawt.
Name: John Lawsenmeier
Age:: 39
Ethnicity: English descent, but his family have been in South Africa for a few generations
Sexual orientation: Straight
Religion: Tells people he's either Catholic, Calvinist or Orthodox. Is none of them; is apathetic-agnostic
Languages: English, Dutch, French, German, Afrikaans, Latin
Appearance: Light, ginger, thin hair, a gentle but somewhat narrow face, brown eyes, a slightly pointed nose, whiter than most 4th gen South Africans, skin smoother than most, medium build, somewhat taller than most, a bit thin
Personality: Formally friendly to those he doesn't know and a bit reserved, but brutal when he has a task. Brutally efficient. An academic, very smart, dislikes brute force used without reason. Handles everything very neutrally.
History: Born near Bloemfontein in a rural town, he proved to be a bit of a genius and went to university in Bloemfontein. As university was finishing for him, (he skipped a few grades), the gems rained. He moved, after instability, to Cape Town. It was during this time he gained his brutality, moving from genial genius to emotionless genius. He joined the company then, and now roams about doing jobs and reading books.
Does it need to be longer?
RP Sample:
G-Tech knows me well.

[Shaggai]

I will make an app as soon as I can. Note that it still might take a whie.

[The New Lowlands]

This looks brilliant.

Name: Joanne Onbekend
Age: 22
Ethnicity: Indo.
Sexual orientation: Straight.
Religion: Agnostic, raised Protestant, practicing out of habit.
Languages: Speaks fluent Dutch/Afrikaans, and English to a more limited extent, and knows about twenty words in German.
Appearance: A young woman, with brown eyes, a straight nose, and dark hair. Slim, but not tall, and pretty, for the circumstances, although in a more civilized time and place she'd be described as 'handsome.'
Personality: Distant and rather cynical, but not unkind.
History: The illegitimate daughter of a colonial official in Batavia, Joanne grew up, adopted by a Dutch immigrant family who lived on the outskirts of the city. Having a distant relationship with her adoptive parents, both strict Protestants, who conceived a child several years after she came into their life, Joanne grew close to an Indonesian boy, Stefan Parmanputra, the son of one of the estate's guards. The metaphorical gold rush generated by the South African Event resulted in them agreeing together to travel- separately- to the 'land of opportunity' that South Africa was being portrayed as by industrial propaganda.
Shortly after, she ran away from home, and became bogged down in Batavia for three whole years working off her debts to various locals by running and shooting her way through the Batavian underworld before finally managing to book passage on a passenger liner to the Cape. When she arrived, she realised that the loss of her lover was a foregone conclusion, picked up a gun, and joined the Company.

I didn't have anything to hand, so I wrote this up. Completely unrelated to my character.

Anna sighed as she stepped up the grand staircase, heading past the old walls which bore their faded pictures of her distant ancestors. Five generations or so of clockmaking glory stared her down as she lamely headed up the steps. But then the ladder approached, and a spring came to her step as she hurried up into the desolate and dusty attic that was her father's workshop.

With Mr. Van Heersens out of town, and her mother preoccupied with ranting at her brothers about decency, she had the perfect chance to finish one of her projects. With this in mind she treaded quickly over the slightly sawdusted floor, heading for a workbench only to be distracted by something shiny.

Blinking, she approached the small chest, atop which rested a brilliant silver pocket-watch. With a curious glance, she picked up the item, weighing it in her hand, snapping open the face within. The cool ceramic was wholly clean, and covered with glass, but nonetheless Anna frowned.

The hands weren't moving.

With a grumble, she brought it to her workbench, glancing at the pocket-watch's other end, where a small screw was implanted, keeping the thing together. She glanced down at it, guessing the size, then tugged a screwdriver off of the table, bringing it to bear.

Nothing seemed to happen as she tried to press it into the small crevice, grunting with effort, blinking at the screwdriver. With an unexpected scowl, she brought a slightly smaller one to bear. The pattern continued until she attempted with a toothpick, which snapped as she tried to push it in.

Letting out a frustrated grunt, the eighteen-year-old polished the remaining toothpick off of the hinge, thinking annoyedly this might take twenty years...

She blinked as the world went dark and stayed that way. For her, a moment passed, and then she was out in the street, her feet colliding gently on the cobbles of a slightly different Brussels. A marching group of ragged riflemen rushed past, people all out with yellow banners bearing black lions;

"Ze zullen hem niet temmen, die fiere Vlaamse leeuw!" the crowd roared, cheering them on. One of the militia approached her with a grin, a rifle slung over her shoulder, and tugged her into a protesting kiss; she didn't stomp on his foot or punch him on account of her surprise.

Another voice called out; "They're coming!" and the sounds of proper marching group of soldiers came from the end of the street. The militiaman let her go, gripping his rifle and joining the loose line of soldiers as the civilians fled. She blinked again, then cried out when a cannon fired, plowing into the group of soldiers.

Something in her made her rush to the militiaman's side, but she recoiled in horror when she noted he was lying on the ground. The rest croaked, blood bubbling out of his mouth; a small, bloodied smile came to his lips as he reached out for her. Cries of desperation rang out among the militia; they retreated, fast. She sobbed, praying to go back home, gripping the militiaman's hand, the watch between their hands as the world went dark again.

Light returned. Anna blinked down at the militiaman, still breathing, but unconscious, lying bloodied among the sawdust. Mr. Van Heersens let out a scream at the sight of them both.

[Neo Arcad]

A wild YAK appears!

[G-Tech Corporation]

I will be endlessly bemused if we have an all-white band of bastards.

[Agritum]

I will be endlessly bemused if we have an all-white band of bastards.

My character will be Italian American. Italians weren't considered whites in the 20s, right?

[Neo Arcad]

I will be endlessly bemused if we have an all-white band of bastards.

I seriously don't want to create a female character this time, so... I likely won't, barring a generic all-male all-white cast.
Might do an African-American though.

[Manahakatouki]

This feels like the RP I should be coming back to...

Yes...yes indeed...

[Ayreonia]

This is glorious. I'll have an app up in a bit.

[Neo Arcad]

This feels like the RP I should be coming back to...

Yes...yes indeed...

It's the RP you need, and also the one that you deserve.

[Agritum]

Name: Paul Bonanno
Age:: 24
Ethnicity: Italian American
Sexual orientation: Straight
Religion: Roman Catholic. Quite a devout one, but it doesn't stop Paul from being quite adept at killing.
Languages: American English, some Italian/Sicilian Dialect. Struggles to figure out what the fuck Afrikaans is.
Appearance:

Personality: Mild mannered and polite, but quite ruthless towards whoever opposes him.
History: The youngest son of a family of poor Italian immigrants in New York, Paul spent most of his childhood in utter poverty, before finally finding a stable and profitable job opportunity at the age of 16: becoming a Mafia associate.
He completed his first hit when he was 17, shooting a local journalist through the eye as a punishment for knowing too much. After becoming a made man, Paul promptly affirmed himself as one of the top soldiers of his crime family, other than one of the best hitmen in all of New York, mantaining said position up until a few weeks before the start of the roleplay's story.

After falling in love with the daughter of the wrong crime boss, and killing said crime boss after he had discovered him naked in his daughter's bedroom, Paul realized that New York wasn't really a nice place to live in anymore, and promptly boarded the first ship he could find at the port, managing to escape the anger of the associates of said murdered crime boss.

Due to this turn of events, Paul ended up in South Africa, working as an operative for The Company thanks to his excellent mafia hitman skills.

RP Sample:

[Manahakatouki]

This feels like the RP I should be coming back to...

Yes...yes indeed...

It's the RP you need, and also the one that you deserve.

Except I need an RP sample...

I feel like I've RPed with enough people here some time before...

[Neo Arcad]

It's the RP you need, and also the one that you deserve.

Except I need an RP sample...

I feel like I've RPed with enough people here some time before...

I'll vouch for you.

[Manahakatouki]

Except I need an RP sample...

I feel like I've RPed with enough people here some time before...

I'll vouch for you.

Thank you Neo...

I'll start that app then...

[Nightkill the Emperor]

I will be endlessly bemused if we have an all-white band of bastards.

I'm making a black African secondary character.

I hope we don't get too many Americans. Americans didn't do much in this region.

[Manahakatouki]

I will be endlessly bemused if we have an all-white band of bastards.

I'm making a black African secondary character.

I hope we don't get too many Americans. Americans didn't do much in this region.

We'll need more Dutch players then...

[Konariona]

Me goosta.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

I'm making a black African secondary character.

I hope we don't get too many Americans. Americans didn't do much in this region.

We'll need more Dutch players then...

I meant character wise, not players.

[Novia Soviet Socialist Republic]

You have my attention.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

I'm going to close up shop before too many sign up. It'll still be open to a select few whom I promised spots to though.

[Manahakatouki]

We'll need more Dutch players then...

I meant character wise, not players.

...actually so did I...

Apologies for word mix up...

[Azaflaza]

Name: Jessie Wales
Age:: 23
Ethnicity: white English
Sexual orientation: straight
Religion: catholic but her job indicates she ain't one of the greatest Catholics.
Languages: English, German, French and some Afrikaans but doesn't feel she should know the language and thinks that they should speak English.
Appearance:

Personality: cool, clam and collected, she could be considered a lady if it wasn't for her job. She is slightly racist in the sense that she thinks all people should live like the british or failing that, European or American. There is an air of mystery around her as she never reveals too much about her or her past.
History: she was born in England to an aristocratic family and was raised as a lady. But by the time she was 20 all the teenage angst she had held in came to a boil and she packed up and headed for the war zone that was South Africa seeking for thrills and adventure. However when she arrived she found life more difficult without her parents money so she was forced to join the company for a living and found there was plenty of adventure to be had here while making money. Her asset was her ability to blend in with the upper classes and her sneakiness, leading to her mainly being a spy or assassin.
RP Sample: I'm in one of G-techs RPs right now.

Edit: oh damn it, I started writing when it was open.

[Novia Soviet Socialist Republic]

I'm going to close up shop before too many sign up. It'll still be open to a select few whom I promised spots to though.

Damn I'm too late?

[Neo Arcad]

I'm going to close up shop before too many sign up. It'll still be open to a select few whom I promised spots to though.

Damn I'm too late?

Yes. You are. Mostly because you forgot a comma.