Toki and J. Jordans App

User avatar
Toki
Posts: 6
Joined: Thu Sep 28, 2017 10:46 pm

Toki and J. Jordans App

Postby Toki » Mon Oct 02, 2017 11:53 pm

J.JORDANS APPLICATION BODY
--------------------------------------------------
Character Name: Adam Marković
Character Sex: 43
Character Age: Male
Occupation (Current or Before): Serb Volunteer Guard, ACE Hardware Clerk
Character Equipment: x1 Yugoslavian M56/66 SKS
x4 Stripper Clips
x2 Boxes of 7.62x39 Cartridges
x1 Brown Hiking Boots
x1 Green Cargo Pants
x1 Brown Fur-Lined Jacket
x1 Beanie

Moral Alignment: Tempered Evil
Strengths:

The Old Guard - Adam's involvement with the Serb Volunteer Guard in the Yugoslav Wars, he has an extensive knowledge of small unit tactics and asymmetrical warfare.

Living in Srpska - While Adam was involved extensively with the Yugoslavian Army's efforts in Sarajevo, he was tutored extensively under the guidance of his Senior Sergeant, both in matters of dealing with urban environments and living in the forested areas surrounding the Bosnian city.

Weaknesses:

Aging - After finally crossing over the age of forty, Adam has passed his pinnacle in terms of physical prowess. With aging bones and stretched tendons, his speed and endurance is severely limited.

War Scars - After suffering shrapnel which was deemed irremovable for medical technology during the time, Adam carries the ever present reminder of the Yugoslav Wars with the jagged pieces of metal in his back.

Character Backstory a.ka. how or why are you here (One paragraph minimum, be creative! More backstory does not always mean a better app! Put thought into how they'll interact with others too!):
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fvEOLb0qlH4&ab_channel=PetrTomczyski July 7th, 1992. Sarajevo, Bosnia The distant sounds of mortars perforated the night's air as the Republic of Srpska's forces pounded the buildings of the Bosnian city. The dull light given off by the end of an burning cigarette illuminated a hastily dug foxhole, as well as the dull gunmetal of an SKS, leaned against the slanted edges of the earth. With the cigarette firmly secured in his lips, Adam reached his hand across, gripping the handguard of his rifle firmly before tugging it close to his legs. With his fingers curled around the charging handle, Adam pulled the bolt back and let it slide forward with a satisfying click after observing that there was indeed a round in the chamber. Adam gave a grunt as he lifted himself out of the foxhole, stretching the muscles of his legs as he strains, before making his way past the holes of fellow Serbian Guard headed down towards the end of his forested section. He raised his SKS above his head as he approached his squad leader's position, before squatting down above the dug-out.

"Heyo, Senior Sergeant. I had a few questions."

"By the fucking mother Mary, Marković, if you don't finish this in five minutes I'll have your ass in enough slings to make you a hammock. What is it?"

"See, I was just confused as to tomorrow. How are we going to be attacking the city with all of the snipers? What about the zelene beretke?"

"Shelling will pick up before convoy moves into the district, and we'll set up along in the apartment building. I'll point it out when we get there. That it, Private?"

"Aye, Senior Sergeant."

"Get some sleep, Marković, I want your eyes open when we leave."

Adam nodded his head and stood, dropping the cigarette out of his mouth as he did so, letting it drop to the damp grass below. Adam adjusted the wooden grip in his hands as he turned, making his way back towards his foxhole, and the comforting sleep it offered.
July 8th, 1992. Sarajevo, Bosnia The hard metal armoring of the BMP jostled as it sped down the road, bouncing off of the shelled out holes in the asphalt. Adam maintained a hand on the tow-cables that adorned the side of the armored personnel carrier, keeping him firmly in place as the machine hurtled down the road, carrying the other members of his section. In the distance, the sounds of RPKs and assault rifles echo off the large concrete buildings that adorned the streets of Sarajevo. Adam adjusted his grip on the rifle in his hands, swiveling his head as the convoy quickly made its entrance through the suburbs. Soon, the vehicles in the convoy split, maneuvering throughout the parallel streets before slowing to a stop behind a sandbag barricade, allowing those of the Serbian Volunteer Guard to dismount from the armored vehicles. With the crunching of displaced asphalt under the black combat boots of Adam's section, the unit moved throughout the suburbs of the Bosnian city. The once distant rattle of automatic fire now rings closer, indicating the ever-continuing presence of a firefight nearby.

"Marković! Fall in; get your eyes focusing on the windows! We're goin' down this side-street and into our designated building!"

"Aye, Senior Sergeant!"

Joined by his fellow paramilitary forces, the section set off down the concrete sidewalks of the city streets. With the forward elements of the section fully sweeping the upper levels of their intended target, a high-rise apartment block, Adam maintained his cover behind a positioned dumpster. With eyes trained down the street, Adam waited quietly, ears perked at the sounds of reverberating gunfire through the parallel streets. Then, in the distance, the sound of three successive thumps resound, indicating the start of a mortar counter attack.

"Get down! Cover, cover!"

Then, the crashing of high explosive mortar shells splashed through the streets, sending jagged metal fragments and cement skyrocketing. Once, twice, and finally, with a fatal third landing behind Adam's position. With searing hot pain spreading throughout his back, then the warmth of blood trickling through the newly positioned pieces of shrapnel finding purchase in his body, Adam slumped forward, not being able to sustain his weight.

"Wounded; get a medic up here! Marković's wounded

Then, with the weight of his body being shifted onto the shoulders of another. Time began to flow quickly, before memories began to falter, only feeling the cold metal floor of the interior of his BMP.
August 20th, 1998. Belgrade, Serbia "Now, Mister Marković, how are the pain medications working for you?"

"They help, but the pain in my upper back is still there."

"You do understand that the shrapnel you received in Sarajevo could not be removed, correct?"

"It has been explained to me plenty of times; yes, I understand that."

"Then why do you continue to bring this up to us?"

"Because it fucking hurts. I need better medication for it."

"It is in my medical opinion, Mister Marković, that you do not need better medications. We have you on a high enough dose as it is."

"Then remove my damned shrapnel, I've been carrying it around long enough."

"You know we can't do that. The procedure is too dangerous, and we can not be held liable for it. It does not help that the condition was further exasperated by your continued fighting in Bosnia."

Marković heaved a sigh, slowly rising from his chair with an intensive amount of effort. He turned towards the door and nodded his head, defeated, "Thank you for your time, Doctor."
August 29th, 1999. Belgrade, Serbia The light inside the U.S Embassy caused Adam's eyes to adjust, constricting his pupils down into small dots. With the papers held firmly between his hands, Adam leaned forward, offering the manilla folder across the mahogany desk, extending it to well-dressed man sat behind it. The man sharply removed the folder from his grasp and opened it, removing the procurred documents, displaying the various passports and applications across the wooden surface.

"Mister eh... Marković? It seems that all of your documents are in order. Are you prepared for the inteview part of the process?"

"Of course. I have practiced the English for this."

"Wonderful. Well, let's get started."
August 14th, 2010. Kansas, United States of America Adam sighed, placing his jalopy of a car in park, slowly rising from the seat and onto the hot asphalt of the pawn shop. With a clank of the car door slamming into place and a beep resounding from the car as an indication of its locking. With a confident stride, Adam made his way through the doors of the dealership, meandering through the aisles, before finally making his way to the counter, tapping his fingers against the glass display. Then, with a exagerated movement, he gestured towards the wooden battlerifle hanging on the back wall. The man behind the counter reached up, gripping the weapon gingerly, before clearing the weapon and locking the bolt back, then extending the weapon over the counter.

"Yugoslavian made. Got plenty of 'em in surplus before the Clinton ban. Cost ya' about five hundred dollars; stripper clips included."

"This is... Fine rifle. I will buy it."

"New regulations means we have to get your liscense and your social security for processing."

Adam nodded, then removed his wallet from his pocket, extending his liscense, as well as his social security card. Then, following the prior two pieces, his debit card.

"Give me a few minutes to run all of this, and we'll be good to go."

Then, after a few more minutes inside of the shop, Adam exited with a black case under his arm, headed back to his car.
August 15th, 2017. Kansas, United States of America "Novak, get in the fucking car!"

"I'm grabbing the suicases, kučko!"

"Fuck the suitcases you dense bitch! The city's cleared the fuck out, the time for getting resources is now!"

"Fine, fine!"

Then, the passenger door slammed, another middle-aged man now sitting in its chair. Adam glanced over, twisting the key inside the ignition,

"Like Sarajevo again, yes?"

"Just like the Bosnians, hah!"

With a laugh and the clatter of the alternator switching gears, the old jalopy peeled out of the rural household, Zastava M70 and Yugoslavian M56/66 jostling in the back seet.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=THQ5P9PIJvs&ab_channel=13fico89 --------------------------------------------------

TOKIS APPLICATION BODY
--------------------------------------------------
Steam Name: Toki

Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:78658257

Steam Profile Link: http://steamcommunity.com/id/TheOriginalToki

Rp Experience: Like, 4+ years

How did you stumble upon our server?: Saw that legion was playing it, decided to join when I couldn't find another server. Appeared interested anyhow.


Character Name: Novak Cvetković

Character Sex: Male

Character Age: 42

Occupation (Current or Before): Serbian Volunteer guard, Fire Alarm Inspector

Character Equipment: x1 Zastava M70
x2 Thirty Round Magazines ( Will lower if need be )
x1 Pair of work boots
x1 pair of black and white striped track pants
x1 M65 Field Jacket
x1 Plain T-Shirt
x1 Flat Cap

Moral Alignment(See Chart below this post): Tempered Evil

Strengths:

Kosovo je Srbije!: Service in the Yugoslav wars has given Novak experience not only in firearms, but also general military tactics.

Survivalist: Living isolated from most towns in Serbia, Novak was taught by his parents how to live off the land, and generally how to handle himself in the wilderness.

Weaknesses:

Bigotry: Novak finds himself at odds with Bosnians, as well as Muslims in general.

Aging: Now past forty, he began to slack off from physical activity after the Yugoslav wars. He's somewhat out of shape and aging, with greying hairs and wrinkes, aging tendons and all.

PTSD: Though Novak handled himself well in Sarajevo, he still finds it hard to come to grips with some of the things that occurred there, more specifically, the horrors of war itself. He still remembers all of the hallowing moments he came to face in the war.

Character Backstory a.ka. how or why are you here (One paragraph minimum, be creative! More backstory does not always mean a better app! Put thought into how they'll interact with others too!):
July 7th, 1992. Sarajevo, Bosnia

Novak leaned his head forward, the vibrations of mortar fire thumping in his chest. What was once a terrifying prospect to him, instead became common place. At least, as long as it wasn't on top of him. Leaning against the dirt of his foxhole, he looked upwards to see his cigarette smoking comrade pushing himself from the position. Shrugging it off, he tried to make himself as leisured as possible. Since the foxhole was empty now, he took the moment to let out a few choice words about the enemy. “Fucking bosants...” , he'd muttered. He found it difficult to try and grasp at the words to insult his enemy, even if he was just speaking to himself. The loose dirt in the foxhole was probably better than the beds he'd gotten in the past months anyhow, remembering the comments on how the bunks of former bases felt like springs were digging into your skin through the stale fabric. He took comfort in his Zastava M70, running the tips of his fingers along the receiver as he listened in on the distant dialogue of his fellow soldier, and the Senior Sergeant. For the moment, he appeared to be daydreaming, until dirt from the edge of the foxhole was pushed onto his uniform. Finding his comrade back in the foxhole with him, he became a bit loose, obviously less tense with a fellow soldier beside him, though also comforted by the dialogue of shelling of the city. Surely, the artillery would scare most of the enemy away? Serbian artillery, at that. Opting to lean the rest of his body against the dirt, he began to doze off into a slumber.
July 8th, 1992. Sarajevo, Bosnia

Novak sat uncomfortably atop the hard metal armor of the mobile BMP. Holding his Zastava by the grip, he kept a finger on the trigger in an effort to be prepared for any form of ambush, or at least, more prepared than he already was. Sitting opposite to his comrade, Marković, he gave the occasional glance over the shoulder to check on his friend. Though these glances would oft be cut short, the BMP giving a violent jerk upon driving over each hole in the road-- the handiwork of the Serbian artillery mentioned last night. Squinting his eyes, he looked over the windows and rooftops of passing buildings. Now that their convoy had split into two sections, he'd become more on edge. Rolling about his jaw out of nervous habit. This continued through out the operation. Once the BMP he sat on stopped, he fell in a loose line behind his comrades of the SVG. He kept his head on a swivel now that he didn't have the ability to rely on the BMP he was with, each burst of automatic fire that went on like a snare drum in the city grabbing his attention. Turning left, he caught the whip end of what his Senior Sergeant had just explained. Appeared confused, the Sergeant reiterated.

“Don't give me that look Cvetković! If you weren't listening then you're down shit creek without a paddle. Follow Marković!”

“Yes, of course Senior Sergeant!”

Falling into a tight formation with his unit, he stared up at the towering buildings. At the end of the units formation, he didn't have to take on the responsibility of taking on the first bullets if any were to come their way, which gave him slight comfort, though concern for the forward elements of the operation. Seeinf as all of his comrages had taken cover, he found solace in the doorway of an apartment building, pressing his back against the hard surface of it. He held his Zastava diagonal to himself, then pulled back the bolt to be sure a round was loaded for just a moment. Before he could finish, he felt, and heard, the familiar thud of distant mortar action. Going bright eyed, he tried to dive to take better cover, however it came about too late.

“Get down! Cover, cover!”

Though he'd taken a dive against the concrete sidewalk, it didn't seem to be enough to be unscathed from the mortars. The explosions went off above them at first, then came rubble, and then another explosion not far from Novaks position. Looking up, he'd seen the aftermath. His comrade clammoring against a dumpster.

“Oh shit! Marković!”

Running from the apartment doorway, he bolted to his comrades position. Looking over his wounds, he shook his head. Could he even survived being peppered with such shrapnel? He felt a pit in his stomach, and a knot in his throat. Taking his friend, he adjusted him onto his shoulders and ran to the BMP. Setting him down on the floor of the interior, he began to pray.
August 20th, 1998. Belgrade, Serbia

Novak found himself sitting outside of a hospital room. Listening to the faint dialogue between the comrade he'd barely managed to save and medical personnel, he rolled his jaw again, the familiar gesture of his nerves getting to him.

Looking right as the door squealed, he watched the heavy thing open, then stood to his feet. Not bothering to ask any question, he simply followed his upset friend out.
August 30th, 1999. Belgrade, Serbia

Novak squinted as he held a tucked folder beneath his right arm. Finally reaching the desk of the US Embassy, he planted the folder onto the well kept and laminate desk of the well dressed American across from him. Shortly after, the man pulled the folder open, examining the various documents it contained.

“Seems you have all of you papers in order here Mister...”, the Embassy worker paused for a moment, mouthing something to himself, then adding, “Cvetković... is that right?”

Novak nodded, responding, “Yes. I am prepared for the interviewing... okay?”. His English, though rough, got the point across.

“Of course, of course. Follow me.”
August 14th, 2010. Kansas, United States of America

Novak couldn't help but smile. Walking along a trail towards a gun range, he was reunited with his Zastava, and his dear friend Adam, who carried along an SKS. Rolling his shoulders, they arrived at the shooting tables, with targets down range.

“These rifles are almost identical to what he had in Serajevo, huh? It's crazy.”, Novak commented.

“It is. Hopefully the shoot about as straight, eh?”

Novak let off a chuckle to the comment. He opened up the case of ammo beside him and sat at a seat, loading in 7.62x39mm into the banana magazine, though his friend had already gotten to shooting, due to the practicality of stripper clips. Finally finishing the load, he pushed the magazine into the fine rifle he'd recently purchased, appearing satisfied when it had clicked just right. Pulling back the bolt, he let it snap forward to rack a bullet, and then, he fired away at the target in front of him, each pull of the trigger being a trip of nostalgia.
August 15th, 2017. Kansas, United States of America

“Novak, get in the fucking car!”

“I'm grabbing the suitcases, kučko!”

“Fuck the suitcases you dense bitch! The city's cleared the fuck out, the time for getting resources is now!”

“Fine, fine!”

Almost jumping into the vehicle, Novak landed square on the seat, quickly slamming the car door, and fastening his seatbelt the next. The rumble of the engine starting was met with a smile from Novak.

“Like Sarajevo again, yes?”

“Just like the Bosnians, hah!”

Laughing in unison with his friend, he sat up in the Jalopy seat, the rumbling sounds of the Zastava and SKS in the back seat serving to put Novak at ease again.
User avatar
Emptybag
Posts: 385
Joined: Mon Oct 17, 2016 1:41 am

Re: Toki and J. Jordans App

Postby Emptybag » Tue Oct 03, 2017 12:39 am

gonna stay neutral on this one for a tick, leaning more towards nope
User avatar
Toki
Posts: 6
Joined: Thu Sep 28, 2017 10:46 pm

Re: Toki and J. Jordans App

Postby Toki » Tue Oct 03, 2017 12:49 am

Emptybag wrote:gonna stay neutral on this one for a tick, leaning more towards nope
Don't want to overstep here, but could I get a reason as to why?
User avatar
madmax2006
Posts: 15
Joined: Thu Sep 28, 2017 12:18 am

Re: Toki and J. Jordans App

Postby madmax2006 » Tue Oct 03, 2017 1:06 am

+1 They chill & I love their concept. hell yeah
Image C H A R A C T E R S Maryse St. Germain ~ Alive
User avatar
Andrew
Posts: 137
Joined: Tue Apr 04, 2017 2:25 am
Location: Fort Worth, Texas

Re: Toki and J. Jordans App

Postby Andrew » Tue Oct 03, 2017 1:07 am

+1, know these boys from a server I staffed on, they good people and great RPers
User avatar
Legion
Posts: 263
Joined: Sun Jan 22, 2017 5:05 am
Location: New Vegas, Nevada

Re: Toki and J. Jordans App

Postby Legion » Tue Oct 03, 2017 3:10 pm

I'm hesitant on this one, I have a feeling these characters will just be a roving PK squad. I would like to see Jordan on the server before giving him this equipment and character as I'm not to familiar with him.

After further communication with Toki Im going to lean torwards support.
Image
ZergHunter
Site Admin
Posts: 158
Joined: Mon Oct 17, 2016 1:39 am

Re: Toki and J. Jordans App

Postby ZergHunter » Tue Oct 03, 2017 5:23 pm

I've been waiting for this moment...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=16G-Hv23nqw

I'll give it the +support just note if these characters just become russian edgelords memeing around I personally wont hesitate to get rid of them.

It looks like you guys did spend some time and put good effort into the app so I'm hopefully they will be good characters.
User avatar
HereticsEnd
Posts: 82
Joined: Mon Feb 06, 2017 1:10 am
Location: Annapolis, MD

Re: Toki and J. Jordans App

Postby HereticsEnd » Tue Oct 03, 2017 8:36 pm

+ThatsSomeGoodSlavSoup
Image
Legion: HERETIC DESTROYER OF MAPS CONQUERER OF DECORATION
Sunny
Posts: 37
Joined: Sat Jan 28, 2017 3:32 am

Re: Toki and J. Jordans App

Postby Sunny » Tue Oct 03, 2017 11:05 pm

+yep
User avatar
Emptybag
Posts: 385
Joined: Mon Oct 17, 2016 1:41 am

Re: Toki and J. Jordans App

Postby Emptybag » Wed Oct 04, 2017 1:46 am

Accepted

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest