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 Masreya21 MPF application

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Masreya21
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Posts : 87
Join date : 2014-11-22
Age : 17
Location : In the land of otakus and weeaboos. I am hiding from the dumbass "Loud majority" who give us a bad name

PostSubject: Masreya21 MPF application   Sat Nov 22, 2014 7:33 pm

OOC Section
Steam name: Masreya21
SteamID: STEAM_0:1:40809853

How long have you been part of the community? About a day

How long have you been playing HL2RP? like 6 months

Have you ever been banned before? nope.avi

What motivates you to want to become a MPF unit? If a MPF unit is role-played right it can be a diverse experience with each unit different.

Have you ever had experience within staff or owned a serious RP server? I have been a SA on a server called CBG and orwell rp before they died

Do you have any past experience with the MPF whitelist? I have much experience with the MPF whitelist.

Give a detailed description of a MPF unit: A MPF unit is a human who willingly joined the Combine and work as the "police" who keep civility of a certain city. All units are equipped with a stunstick to administer re-education to civilians who break the laws. A standered uniform of a unit is a white mask fitted with a vo-coder to mask there voice and a suit. MPF aren't robots without emotions but they do have emotions in fact and should react to things. They are ranks to a unit. Ground units (i5 - i1) Officer, Elite protection unit, Squad leader ( Matters by server) Division leaders, Commander, and Sectorial.

Give a detailed roleplay situation example showing how you would use a MPF unit: *Unit --- walks out of the Nexus, taking in a deep breath, he begins his morning patrol.
**From the shadows of the slums hardpoint, a rebel slides down the wall with his USP-M in hand, gently pulling the slide back.
*Unit --- rounds the corner, heading down the road to the hardpoint, the cold rain dripping of his equipment.
**Rebel stops moving, steadying himself and awaiting his prey.
*Unit --- approaches the entrance of the hardpoint, beginning to turn around.
**Rebel quickly pops out of cover as the bends the corner, quickly firing off two rounds aimed center mass. With that, he runs back into the safety of the dark slums.
*Unit --- pauses for a second, time seemingly standing still. Suddenly, a sharp pain pierces his stomach, looking down, he sees two fresh bullet wounds, blood slowly tricking down his kevlar.
*Unit --- falls to his knees, dropping his stunstick, he places both hands over the gunshots, feeling his pierced gut.
*Unit --- then falls limply to the side, laying on his back, he keeps his hands over the wound, a deep and demonic pain taking over him slowly.
*Unit --- rolls around on the ground, trying to keep pressure on the wound, with a bloodied hand, he reaches for his radio.
"<::U-Unit ---, H-Helix to the Ha-Hardpoint, O-Over..."
*Unit --- releases the radio as he brings his hand back to cover his wounds, trying to shimmy into cover as he groans.
*Unit --- stops crawling around on the floor as he realizes movement is only making his wound worse, looking down at his bloodied hands, sticky with red juices, he nearly vomits.
*Unit --- fades in and out of consciousness as the blood pools around him, mixing in with the rain.
*Unit --- takes a large gasp, starting to breath slower as he eventually loses consciousness.
( Here is some fear rp cause I am that much of a badass)
*Unit --- follows behind a muscular OTA unit during a sweep into a rebel complex.
*As the OTA unit rounds the corner, Unit --- is left alone for a few moments. From behind him, a few quick steps slide in from the murky fog of war.
*Quick automatic fire rakes around the corner, with vocoded screams heard.
Rebel says "All alone now, hm?"
*Unit --- slowly turns around, his body trembling with his fingers loosening around his USP.
Rebel says "Why don't ya drop that weapon?"
*Unit --- nods slowly, as he unloads the mag from his USP, then dropping the weapon at his feet.
Rebel says "Now, let's change roles. Why don't you hand me a zip-tie?"
*Unit --- hesistates for a moment, but upon seeing the Rebel's AK, nods quickly, pulling a zip-tie out from a pouch on his belt, handing it to the rebel.
**The Rebel takes the tie, dropping it on purpose. "Oops. Pick that up."
*Unit --- reaches for the zip-tie, as he grasps it, he feels the Rebel step on his gloved hand, hard. Resisting a groan, he attempts to peel the boot off with his other hand.
**The Rebel slides his AK slowly down his arm, while releasing his boot. Tapping the Unit on his faceplate with the barrel of the AK, the Rebel chuckles.
*Unit --- slowly glances up, staring down the barrel of the AK, he stares up at the Rebel's red eyes, he silently begs the Rebel to spare him.
**The Rebel fires off a round dangerously close to the Unit.
*Unit --- flinches, dropping to his stomach and covering his head in fear, whimpering inside his faceplate.
Rebel says "You're mine, now..why don't you radio in and tell them you're fine?"
*Unit slowly glances up, nodding, he awkwardly radios in, "<::U-Unit ---, e-everyth-thing's fine..d-disregard s-sho

Explain why it’s very important that you behave appropriately in the role as an MPF unit: MPF units have access to guns which any bad roleplayers can really abuse

Why is it important that you get recruited over all the other applicants? Like I said at my vort app, from your prospective it's not really important for me to get recruited

IC Section:
Name: John Richardson
CiD: 89424
Brief physical description: Standered build, small nose, no special needs, size 9 shoes.

Brief bio (Please keep it within three paragraphs): John Richardson, was an average Joe. Just like all the other citizens in City 12, he would work in the work blocks, go home and repeat the cycle. The only light in his life was his little sister, Gloria. Gloria was a fragile women. Her timid personality kept her quiet and afraid of conversing with other citizens. Although John worked with the main work force, Gloria worked at a local Union General for the majority of her day. There she would keep stock of various miscellaneous objects. Flashlights, Backpacks, clothing, It was ALL Gloria’s job to maintain. Unfortunately she was not very good at remembering her assignments. Her snobbish boss would constantly bark at her about the uncompleted task she never started. “I SAID PICK UP THE TRASH, THEN GO STOCK THE LIGHTS! Is that so GOD DAMN HARD TO REMEMBER?” He would shout. It wasn’t that Gloria was lazy and forgetful, she had a minor case of brain damage. When she was five and John was seven, Gloria fell off the swings at the park and cracked her head on the side walk. Doctors fixed her up but said that she would forever live with short-term memory loss. John never looked down on her because of it. He would always comfort Gloria when she arrived home and hug her as he left to work. He was her knight and she was his everything. The time they shared together was all that mattered to him.
On one rainy night unlike any other Gloria did NOT arrive home at her usual hours. John looked out the window at the rolling rain clouds as he would come up with unrealistic reasons to go outside and look for her. He waited progressively watching the clock. “Where is she” he said to himself. Finale his curiosity and protective nature forced him to crack. He gave in to his irrational thoughts and went in search of Gloria. John opened the old paint chipped door to his apartment with the numbers 108 nailed to the front, paced down the interior stairs of the complex and walked to the back door that Gloria usually entered threw and shouted “Gloria?” As his eyes darted around the ally way he heard a noise come from one of the building’s dumpsters. Two men of various heights stood in stained, dirty, blue jumpsuits and were holding his sister gun point. “Listen to me ya’ little BITCH. Give me ya’ tokens all of em' right FUCKIN’ NOW!” the taller of the two men demanded. The other one laughed as he mumbled out the words “Damn Loyalist pig…” The two men smirked laughing as the taller man cocked back on his USP. Gloria, in tears handed over her small warn down purse. The man holding the gun smiled as he looked in the bag. “Ha…. Wait, what? Are you FUCKIN’ AROUND? This is only 12 tokens. Do you think I’m playing games?” the man growled. “NO it’s all I got.” Gloria cried out. The taller man’s face twitched. “Fuckin’ lie’n traitor” he said as he swiftly pulled down the trigger sending a bullet through the women’s head and destroying her brain. A splash of blood and brain matter lay on the wall as the two men quickly took the rest of Gloria’s belongings.
John stood still in shock. His only light in the darkness was just extinguished over 12 tokens. John’s mind became twisted and distorted as he walked up to the two men screaming in rage as he punched his sister’s killer in the face. The tall man fell over dropping his gun and feeling his cheek as john punched him again and again. The tall man collapsed and lied in a pool of his own blood. John looked over at the other attacker. John instinctively reached for the handgun and pointed it at the shorter man. He fired one shot into the man’s chest. The short man feel to his knees. John’s eyes filled with tears as he unloaded the clip into the man’s body… John stood still dropping the gun watching over his sister’s lifeless body. He cradled her in his arms and lifted her to the local hospice. “Gloria… you’ll be okay, we’re getting help.” A tear rolled of john’s cheek and onto Gloria’s shirt. John arrived at the front doors of the medical center. He slowly put Gloria down on a vacant stretcher. A few medical units ran out to the two. “I love you Gloria” John whispered. One of the units ran up and looked at Gloria's bullet wound. He looked over at John and said "she's gone." John screamed "PLEASE, do something!" The unit sighed briefly as he felt Gloria’s pulse. He looked up at john with cold emotionless eyes. “I’ll do what I can”. The unit then pushed the stretcher down a hall way. The faint words “Send her to the incinerator” became only barely audible to John. John stood there in the poorly lit lobby of the hospice for several hours, just staring at the hall way his sister had been wheeled away in. he knew he would never see her again. Finally one of the medical units forced John outside. As he walked he noticed the white smoke come from a chimney that extended from the roof of the building. “Good bye Gloria” he said to himself “I won’t let this ever happen again…I promise.” He said as he swallowed back his emotions.
As the weeks went on John was scheduled for a city change. Although he was leaving City-12 he would not leave Gloria's memory behind. He packed up the remains of his life and headed to his new home, City-Industrial 17. There he applied for the CCA, and vowed to never let what happened to his sister happen to anyone else. Never again...

Why do you want to join the MPF: To protect this city's civility from citizens who want to break simple rules of civility.
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Acidic_TACO
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PostSubject: Re: Masreya21 MPF application   Sat Nov 22, 2014 9:14 pm

Accepted Remind me to give you the whitelist.
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