Nightkill and G-Tech make an rp (Closed)

[Nightkill the Emperor]

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 that they should speak English.
Appearance:

(Image)

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 neve 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 most 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.

I severely dislike your grammar.

That, and it's closed up.

Everyone who had a post in before I closed up can still apply.

[Rupudska]

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

Nyuk nyuk nyuk

Name: Deryn Price
Age:: 26
Ethnicity: Black Welsh
Sexual orientation: Straight
Religion: Anglican
Languages: English, Welsh, Afrikaans, German, some Dutch
Appearance:

Personality: Sarcastic, quite so. Good at getting along with people who don't mind and pushing the buttons of those that do.
History: Lived most of her childhood and early adult years in the Tiger Bay section of Cardiff, Wales's capital. Growing up as a non-white girl in the dock section of Wales at the end of the 19th Century is not a good thing to be doing. Naturally, her family was well aware, but didn't think much of doing anything about it until the Crystals started dropping. They scraped up the needed amount of money through the dockworks, and headed for Mpumalanga. Unfortunately the town they managed to find work at was right next to one of the few Crossbearer's outposts in the region. They weren't too bright, nor were they powerful, but they were quite annoying. This may or may not have led to her killing some of the Crossbearers when she was 19 and promptly getting run out of town. She joined the Company a few years later after gaining some more experience with killing.
RP Sample: hyuk hyuk hyuk

[Novia Soviet Socialist Republic]

Damn I'm too late?

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

Forgive my lack of grammar. I'm tired.

Oh well, maybe next time I guess.

[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 that they should speak English.
Appearance:

(Image)

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 neve 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 most 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.

I severely dislike your grammar.

That, and it's closed up.

Everyone who had a post in before I closed up can still apply.

That's a very conceited opinion you have there. As long as someone's writing is understandable then I wouldn't judge them on it. The reason it looked so rushed is because I was watching Doctor Who at the same time.

But it doesn't matter anyway, I'd rather RP with people who aren't so judgemental.

[Neo Arcad]

I severely dislike your grammar.

That, and it's closed up.

Everyone who had a post in before I closed up can still apply.

That's a very conceited opinion you have there. As long as someone's writing is understandable then I wouldn't judge them on it. The reason it looked so rushed is because I was watching Doctor Who at the same time.

But it doesn't matter anyway, I'd rather RP with people who aren't so judgemental.

"FINE, WHATEVER, I'LL JUST LEAVE AND BECOME A BOSS CHARACTER IN 5 MONTHS

SEE YOU FUCKERS"

Anyway, off to work for 6 hours, I'll get in my app soon.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

That's a very conceited opinion you have there. As long as someone's writing is understandable then I wouldn't judge them on it. The reason it looked so rushed is because I was watching Doctor Who at the same time.

But it doesn't matter anyway, I'd rather RP with people who aren't so judgemental.

"FINE, WHATEVER, I'LL JUST LEAVE AND BECOME A BOSS CHARACTER IN 5 MONTHS

SEE YOU FUCKERS"

Anyway, off to work for 6 hours, I'll get in my app soon.

Cool. I'll look at all the apps submitted then as well.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

G, feel free to also accept or deny people while I shit, bathe and drink tea, in that order.

[Ayreonia]

Everyone who had a post in before I closed up can still apply.

I hope that applies to me, even if my post was just a thinly veiled tag. Anyways...

Name: Hugo Sibrand
Age: 45
Ethnicity: German
Sexual orientation: Bisexual, but acts straight in public.
Religion: Lutheran
Languages: German, English, very little of some local tongues
Appearance:

Personality: Pompous, precise and well-mannered. Good talker, horrible listener. Gets nervous if things don't go according to (what he thinks should be) the plan. Hates Africa with every fiber of his being.
History: Born in Prussia to a wealthy family, Hugo, like so many of his young countrymen, joined the military. After graduating, he got assigned to Namibia as the commander of a colonial regiment. After having an... affair with one of the local men, Hugo decided that he'd best leave the country before he was given the central role of the inevitable scandal. Staging his own death, he fled to South Africa, eventually joining up with the Company.


RP Sample:
viewtopic.php?f=31&t=256660

[G-Tech Corporation]

Name: Xavier Witte
Age:: 32, give or take.
Ethnicity: That's a good question. He was originally a pure-bred Englishmen, but now his ethnicity is rather indeterminate, due to his condition.
Sexual orientation: Varies, depending on atmospheric conditions and the attitudes of those around him.
Religion: Currently a devoted Orange Catholic, which, since this is the 1920s, everyone assumes is just some obscure Protestant sect. If you need a real one, he's a Messianic Jew, though not ethnically. Except for sometimes.
Languages: His first language is British English, and he speaks Afrikaans and Xhosa fairly well, though he has not received any formal training in either. Xavier is capable of speaking any language in a pigdin capacity, if addressed by a speaker with a modest competence in that language, as being questioned in a language states an implicit belief that the one being questioned can reply in kind. His fluency rises as he speaks any language, as those around him become convinced he can actually speak it, in a good example of the many feedback loops that mark his life.
Appearance: Variable. In his most common form, and thus the one he most usually portrays, Xavier stands six feet and ten inches high, a veritable giant of a man. He is broad in the shoulders and chest, a beefy customer in any tavern brawl. He wears his facial hair cropped short in well-trimmed sideburns of great length that stand outside his gasmask, and a Kaiser Bill mustache of no small volume graces his upper lip, religiously waxed whenever it emerges from his breathing apparatus. His hair is a dark black, almost Chinaman black, though marked with the first flecks of white at the temples from growing young before his time.
Personality: Xavier is inherently a boisterous brawler of a fellow, fond of drink, wenches, and guns, the accouterments of a Freistater- and especially a mercenary's- life in South Africa. His mood swings are legendary in some parts of Durban and the Freistat- normally a genial fellow who will buy gin for the entire tavern crowd, if insulted or denigrated he will lash out with great anger, generally a murderous rage. Corpses tend to mark his passing, as his condition leads to him killing many who think ill of him, for very cogent reasons. This reputation leads to him being terrifyingly efficient in combat, but a staunch ally to his friends. He enjoys playing the violin, and is very proficient in concert piano. Due to his condition he is fond of grinding up small amounts of Crystal and imbibing them with either strong stout or rotgut.
History: The only determined parts of Xavier's history is his childhood. He was born to an English immigrant family in 1892, shortly before the Event. After his own injuries in the Event and the onset of his condition, his history becomes very murky. Xavier has, essentially, a multiple choice past caused by his condition. He currently maintains that he worked as an opal miner in Australia for most of his adult life before being drafted into Her Majesty's Imperial Navy and working as a gunner onboard the HMS Shining Star. It went down off Durban in 1912, in the Eighteenth Battle of the Teeth, and it appears he swam ashore, one of the few survivors of the wreck. He has worked as a soldier since, in the Legion, with the Crossbearers, in Namibia and Upper Rhodesia, and even ruled a short-lived warlord state in the Freistat before getting bored with the minutae. He became part of the Company at its inception, and has been working for the Company ever since. His espoused history though, has gone through several incarnations; first he claimed to be a Raj's son fleeing from the chaos of the Second Great Mutiny, then a Voertrekker who left the territory after the Crystal Uprising, and before that he claimed to be a German chemical engineer who once worked for Krupp.
RP Sample: I submit myself based on the merits of Xavier's sideburns alone.

I accept myself, because yes.

[G-Tech Corporation]

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.

I would prefer longer. How did he survive the chemical warfare near Bloemfontein? How did he handle the arisal of the Crossbearers just outside Cape Town? What brought him back to the Company in the volatile Freistat from the comparative safety of the Western Cape?

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.

I like the character concept, and I'm assuming you know Dutch, so that would be an asset to our varied RPing. Your history is inventive, the only thing I find slightly lacking is your RP example. Linguistically it was slightly flawed, but creative, so I'll let Night rule on that one. He knows better what his standards are.

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:

(Image)

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:

The picture disturbs me. Long haired hippies have no place in the 1920s, Satan-worshippers that they are.

Accepted.

Everyone who had a post in before I closed up can still apply.

I hope that applies to me, even if my post was just a thinly veiled tag. Anyways...

Name: Hugo Sibrand
Age: 45
Ethnicity: German
Sexual orientation: Bisexual, but acts straight in public.
Religion: Lutheran
Languages: German, English, very little of some local tongues
Appearance:

Personality: Pompous, precise and well-mannered. Good talker, horrible listener. Gets nervous if things don't go according to (what he thinks should be) the plan. Hates Africa with every fiber of his being.
History: Born in Prussia to a wealthy family, Hugo, like so many of his young countrymen, joined the military. After graduating, he got assigned to Namibia as the commander of a colonial regiment. After having an... affair with one of the local men, Hugo decided that he'd best leave the country before he was given the central role of the inevitable scandal. Staging his own death, he fled to South Africa, eventually joining up with the Company.


RP Sample:
viewtopic.php?f=31&t=256660

I like it so far, but fleshing out what makes him tick would be optimal. Why is his personality this way? That would be a good thing to add to his history to distinguish him more from a generic German military aristocrat. Most weren't bisexual, but that's about the only difference I'm seeing.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Name: Xavier Witte
Age:: 32, give or take.
Ethnicity: That's a good question. He was originally a pure-bred Englishmen, but now his ethnicity is rather indeterminate, due to his condition.
Sexual orientation: Varies, depending on atmospheric conditions and the attitudes of those around him.
Religion: Currently a devoted Orange Catholic, which, since this is the 1920s, everyone assumes is just some obscure Protestant sect. If you need a real one, he's a Messianic Jew, though not ethnically. Except for sometimes.
Languages: His first language is British English, and he speaks Afrikaans and Xhosa fairly well, though he has not received any formal training in either. Xavier is capable of speaking any language in a pigdin capacity, if addressed by a speaker with a modest competence in that language, as being questioned in a language states an implicit belief that the one being questioned can reply in kind. His fluency rises as he speaks any language, as those around him become convinced he can actually speak it, in a good example of the many feedback loops that mark his life.
Appearance: Variable. In his most common form, and thus the one he most usually portrays, Xavier stands six feet and two inches high, a veritable giant of a man. He is broad in the shoulders and chest, a beefy customer in any tavern brawl. He wears his facial hair cropped short in well-trimmed sideburns of great length that stand outside his gasmask, and a Kaiser Bill mustache of no small volume graces his upper lip, religiously waxed whenever it emerges from his breathing apparatus. His hair is a dark black, almost Chinaman black, though marked with the first flecks of white at the temples from growing young before his time.
Personality: Xavier is inherently a boisterous brawler of a fellow, fond of drink, wenches, and guns, the accouterments of a Freistater- and especially a mercenary's- life in South Africa. His mood swings are legendary in some parts of Durban and the Freistat- normally a genial fellow who will buy gin for the entire tavern crowd, if insulted or denigrated he will lash out with great anger, generally a murderous rage. Corpses tend to mark his passing, as his condition leads to him killing many who think ill of him, for very cogent reasons. This reputation leads to him being terrifyingly efficient in combat, but a staunch ally to his friends. He enjoys playing the violin, and is very proficient in concert piano. Due to his condition he is fond of grinding up small amounts of Crystal and imbibing them with either strong stout or rotgut.
History: The only determined parts of Xavier's history is his childhood. He was born to an English immigrant family in 1892, shortly before the Event. After his own injuries in the Event and the onset of his condition, his history becomes very murky. Xavier has, essentially, a multiple choice past caused by his condition. He currently maintains that he worked as an opal miner in Australia for most of his adult life before being drafted into Her Majesty's Imperial Navy and working as a gunner onboard the HMS Shining Star. It went down off Durban in 1912, in the Eighteenth Battle of the Teeth, and it appears he swam ashore, one of the few survivors of the wreck. He has worked as a soldier since, in the Legion, with the Crossbearers, in Namibia and Upper Rhodesia, and even ruled a short-lived warlord state in the Freistat before getting bored with the minutae. He became part of the Company at its inception, and has been working for the Company ever since. His espoused history though, has gone through several incarnations; first he claimed to be a Raj's son fleeing from the chaos of the Second Great Mutiny, then a Voertrekker who left the territory after the Crystal Uprising, and before that he claimed to be a German chemical engineer who once worked for Krupp.
RP Sample: I submit myself based on the merits of Xavier's sideburns alone.

I accept myself, because yes.

I may just be tired, but what exactly is his condition?

[Norvenia]

Very interested.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Very interested.

Though the RP is technically closed, I'll make the exception for you.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

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.

I think the RP sample is fine. If G doesn't have any other objections, this can be approved.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Well, I was going to do an American war journalist, but I feel I should do a black guy now.

...I mean, play as, not "do".

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Well, I was going to do an American war journalist, but I feel I should do a black guy now.

...I mean, play as, not "do".

Freudian slip much?

[Nationstatelandsville]

Well, I was going to do an American war journalist, but I feel I should do a black guy now.

...I mean, play as, not "do".

Freudian slip much?

I've seen [i]District 9/i], Khan.

I know the only fucking South Africans are capable of is the fucking of language.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Freudian slip much?

I've seen [i]District 9/i], Khan.

I know the only fucking South Africans are capable of is the fucking of language.

And rape in general.

[Nationstatelandsville]

I've seen [i]District 9/i], Khan.

I know the only fucking South Africans are capable of is the fucking of language.

And rape in general.

Well, I thought that was obvious.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Sexual orientation: Straight

Who the fuck are you?

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Sexual orientation: Straight

Who the fuck are you?

Not interested in being lynched.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Who the fuck are you?

Not interested in being lynched.

Lynched?

Sounds fun. Gay black guy it is.

Really not looking good with that other conversation.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Not interested in being lynched.

Lynched?

Sounds fun. Gay black guy it is.

Really not looking good with that other conversation.

It's especially funny because you may be the absolute furthest thing from a gay black guy.

Well, I suppose gay will do - I know abstractly you're straight, but I tend to see you as either asexual or an old gay man who's just over it sexually.

It's the black that you're...different from, shall we say.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Lynched?

Sounds fun. Gay black guy it is.

Really not looking good with that other conversation.

It's especially funny because you may be the absolute furthest thing from a gay black guy.

Well, I suppose gay will do - I know abstractly you're straight, but I tend to see you as either asexual or an old gay man who's just over it sexually.

It's the black that you're...different from, shall we say.

I know how black people work, Khan; I've seen comedies.

Wackiness, AWAY!

[Nightkill the Emperor]

As an interesting note, there were indeed many Malay, Indians and Chinese in South Africa at the time.