Player Section
Steam Name: Vegas
Age: 18
How long have you been Roleplaying? (can be any game): 5 years
How long have you been playing Serious GMod RP?: 4 years
Character Section
Authorization(s):
Agile build. (Flexibility)
Enhanced stamina.
Acrobatic skills.
Rusty switchblade.
Good melee blade skills.
Nimble feet, quiet footsteps.
Name: Francisco 'Espio' Howard
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Affiliation: None
Write a detailed in-canon back-story how your character obtained these authorizations.
Francisco was born and raised in Normandy, France. He lived off the streets as an urchin, a lanky child who was dropped on the streets by his parents when he was 5, as they didn't believe they could take care of him. He was took in by many others who had suffered the same fate he had. Living on the street, they formed a 'gang' devoted to their survival. They banded together, and each took a role. Francisco's role was to pickpocket rich-looking people on the street. When they mean 'rich-looking', they mean literally anyone who had more value than they did. Using his lanky figure, he weaved through the crowds, nimbly grabbing anything he could out of the pockets of the people.
Skipping ahead a few years, Francisco and his 'gang' had amassed enough to keep them alive for another week. A small pile of bread crusts and moldy sausage bits, the same meal every week. Francisco was quickly getting tired of this life, and he noticed a circus opening up down the street from his hide-out. Interested, he quickly sneaked into a show and watched from the shadows. The first act came out, a clown juggling ping-pong balls. The crowd quickly bored of this, as did Francisco, and the clown sadly walked off the stage. The next act came out, the acrobats. They began doing flips across the stage, twisting their feet behind their head, and even tight-rope walking. The crowd was amazed by their flexibility and agility, and Francisco too was enchanted by their swift movements, imagining himself collecting 10 euros after a show for doing 10 flips. As he watched the acrobats perform, he thought to himself 'I'm going to be just like them, rich and not eating crumbs!' So after the show, he walked up to the ringmaster, a fat chubby bloke wearing a top-hat and a blue tuxedo. He looked like he was living the rich lifestyle. Francisco asked if he could become an acrobat. The ringmaster looked down at the frail boy and chuckled heartily.
'You? YOU become an ACROBAT? Not in a million years!'
Francisco was desperate. He looked up the man and said;
'Please! I can change! I'll work for half price, and I'll clean up the ENTIRE circus after a show!'
The ringmaster looked down at the boy, and said;
'Hmm.. How can I take YOUR word for it?'
Francisco told the man his entire story, from when he was born to where he is standing now. The ringmaster looked down at the frail boy with a new look. A look of pity. Never had he felt bad for a street urchin. Feeling sorry for the boy, he accepted his offer. Francisco returned to his 'gang', telling them the news. They all looked a bit sad to see a companion leave, but they were also happy to get his share of the rations. Francisco left the hide-out to go stay at the circus.
A week later, Francisco is beginning his training. The first trick they have him learn is how to do a cartwheel. They have him begin by standing on his left foot, and overbalancing himself attempting to land on his hands. He fails several times, but on his seventh try, he finally manages to touch the ground with his left hand, but then he slips and lands on his face. His teacher looks down at him, and says;
'We have made some progress today, how about we try again tomorrow?'
That night, Francisco dreamed about his new career, sleeping on the safety net under the tightrope. He dreamed of himself finally being able to do a cartwheel and being congratulated by the entire circus!
The next morning, Francisco woke up to the ringmaster under the net, raising up a mop and shouting;
'Wake up you fool! It's a new day, and there's an entire pen of elephant dung to clean up!'
Francisco groaned, rolling out of the net onto his nimble feet and taking the mop. He walked into the elephant den, scooting his way between the elephants and mopping up their old dung and thinking about his dream. In the daydream, he accomplished the cartwheel, and turned the cartwheel into a flip, and the flip into an entire show. He was rolling in money, proving himself not low enough to have to clean up elephant dung. He snapped back to reality when he slipped on a pile of elephant dung, landing on his back. A passing clown turned and pointed and laughed, causing one of the strongmen to come over and laugh at the frail boy lying on his back in the elephant pen. Embarrassed, he got up and brushed himself off before going back to his duty. After the job was done, he went to his trainer, still slightly stained with the elephant's dung. The trained greeted him warmly, and said;
'Ready to begin the training?'
Francisco nodded heartily, and begain attempting cartwheels again. After another few tries, he managed to get halfway there, landing on a handstand for a second, before falling onto his back. Heartened by the progress, he got back up and tried again, managing to complete a full cartwheel, but unable to land the recovery, falling on his face. Another few tries, and he could complete an entire cartwheel.
The days began to merge after that, improving his cartwheels into flips, and the other acts were a blur, with the exception of one act. Knife throwing. Francisco was given a knife one day, and told to throw it at a board and hit it dead center. He looked at the teacher with confusion. What did throwing knives have to do with being in a circus? The teacher, seeming to read his mind, responded;
'In case the crowd one day gets tired of the acrobatics, you must have a backup act. For this circus, and for you, it is knife throwing.'
Understanding, Francisco threw the knife, but it landed completely off center, on the edge of the board. The teacher swiftly retrieved it and said
'How about we try again?'
Francisco accepted the knife, and threw it again. Again, it landed off center, but this time his aim was a little bit better. They repeated this for another ten times, each time his aim slightly improving. On the eleventh time, he accepted the knife, and the teacher told him incentive.
'If you can hit that target dead center, I will give you twenty euro cents.'
With that in mind, Francisco went back to the knife throwing with a new vigor. Over the next ten tries, he hit it dead center once, and, owning up to his word, the teacher handed over twenty euro cents. They both decided that was enough for one day, and Francisco, wondering what all the signs around the circus meant, and wondering how many cartwheels he should do for an act, he went to the ringmaster and asked if he could be taught how to read and count. The ringmaster looked down at the quickly improving boy, and said;
'Hmm.. I don't know, what is in it for me?'
Francisco looked up at the ringmaster and said;
'One euro for each lesson.'
The ringmaster nodded, and said;
'Well, I'll accept that. Come with me to my quarters.'
They went back to the ringmaster's quarters, and Francisco sat down. The ringmaster pulled out one of the old circus signs that said; 'NORMANDY CIRCUS; NOW OPEN!' and said to Francisco;
'What does this say?'
Francisco looked at it in confusion, and said;
'Well, sir, I don't know.'
The ringmaster nodded, and pointed to the word 'Normandy', beginning with the letter N. He said to Francisco;
'This is the letter N. You pronounce it like this; N.'
Francisco repeated after him;
'N'.
They went through all the letters on the sign, and before you knew it, Francisco knew how to read the words 'NORMANDY CIRCUS NOW OPEN'. Francisco coughed up the euro to the ringmaster, and went back to his teacher. He asked if he could learn how to do other tricks to earn money outside of the circus. The teacher nodded and they sat down at the table, the teacher pulling out the throwing knife. He showed it to the boy and said;
'I'm going to teach you how to play a gambling game.'
Francisco nodded eagerly, gesturing for him to continue. The teacher said;
'This game is called Five-Finger Fillet. To play it, you stab the spaces in-between your fingers as fast as you can without cutting yourself. Whoever can do it the longest without cutting themselves, wins. It is a game of skill.'
Francisco, already good with hand-eye coordination and agility, was interested. The teacher pulled out a dull knife and handed it to Francisco. He offered to play a round, no bets. They practiced the game for a little while, Francisco and the teacher being able to go on for well over a minute. They both increased the speed, and after 30 minutes of practice, Francisco challenged him to a bet:
'Teacher, we shall play with a bet; fifty euro cents for each win.'
The teacher, knowing that the boy was poor, accepted the bet. They played a game, and Francisco, with his greed, was compelled to win. He did not give up, even when the possibilities of losing were high. He won several matches in a row, his hand-eye coordination that was already amazing improving even more. Deciding that was enough for one day, they both packed up and went to their sleeping quarters. Francisco laid down again on the safety net, and drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, Francisco had to clean up elephant dung again. This time however, he managed to not slip. He went back to his teacher, continued practicing his back-flips, and then afterwards asked him to help him practice throwing knives again. Due to the game of five-finger fillet they had played, his hand-eye coordination was even better, and he managed to hit the target dead on three times in a row. Owning up to the loss, the teacher handed over 60 euro cents. Francisco went back to the ringmaster, and had another lesson in reading. This time, however, he also was taught how to count from one to five. They practiced this by counting his cartwheels. He learned how to speak the words in another sign, and then coughed up the one euro again. He went back to the teacher, and said;
'Teacher, I wish to make another bet. We will play five-finger fillet, and if I win, I get to keep the throwing knife.'
The teacher accepted, knowing that the boy could become perfect with enough practice. They played the game, and it was very close, Francisco lasting two minutes and twenty three seconds, and the teacher lasting two minutes and twenty one seconds. Francisco left with the throwing knife, and he thought about how he was doing. He thought; I have a nice routine set up, in which he learned how to read, count, gamble, and perform, and still make a profit. Francisco was going to be able to live an easy life.
A few years later, several shows, and learning how to count up to 100, making fifty euros net profit, how to gamble, and how to read, Francisco exited the circus, now going by the alias 'Espio'. Using his fifty euros, he spent ten on a butterfly knife that he would learn to love. He became a street urchin once again, practicing with his butterfly knife in alleyways, now able to throw a throwing knife at a target from five meters and hit it dead on. He could play five-finger fillet for up to five minutes straight. He was going to try to learn how to slash with a knife, in case he was robbed by another street urchin. He would practice cutting up old trash from dumpsters and pretending they were robbers. With each day, his cuts were becoming more precise and quick. To make enough money to live off, he would play five-finger fillet at the nearby pub, using the earnings to buy a loaf of bread and some old cheese for a euro. He was excellent, almost never losing a game. One day, however, he beat an angry drunk again, and the drunk stood up and barked something about Espio cheating. Francisco stood up, worry in his eye, and exclaimed that he had never cheated. and never would. The man angrily stumbled towards Francisco, and without warning, swung his fist at Francisco's head. Francisco, his years of agile training paying off, slipped easily under his fist and moved behind him. Francisco said something along the lines of 'You don't want to do this' in a hasty manner, but the drunk was not going to have any of it. He turned around again, swinging his fist in an uppercut, and Francisco said 'I don't want to do this' as he sidestepped the drunk and swiftly whipped out his butterfly knife. He swished it around a bit, hoping to scare the drunk, but he was un-intimidated by the 17 year old boy. He swung his leg out this time, aiming for a sweep at Francisco's legs. Francisco swiftly jumped over the leg sweep, dropping into a crouch in which he sunk the knife an inch into the man's thigh. The drunk opened his eyes wide in shock, and screamed in agony. He stumbled over to a table, which he leaned on for support. He barked something slurred at Francisco about how 'this isn't done!' and limped out of the bar. Everyone looked over to Francisco, slightly shocked. Francisco sort of shrugged, embarrassed by all the attention. He said;
'Anybody else want to play five finger fillet?'
The entire pub chuckled, and then everyone went back to their business.
Two years later, fifteen euros richer, and yet still faster, Francisco suddenly awoke to a loud BANG! He woke up, lying on the cold alley floor. He got right to his feet, worried that somebody had fired a gun. He ran out of the alley, and looked up to see a massive portal hanging over the skies. Combine ships were pouring out of them. Francisco was terrified. He had never seen anything like it! Running across the street, he tried to find somewhere else to hide. Unfortunately, his way was suddenly blocked by a combine soldier rappelling down in front of him. The soldier briskly raised his rifle, and slammed the butt of it into Francisco's forehead.
The next time Francisco awoke, he was on a train to somewhere called City 17. Worried about what was going to happen to him, and how he had gotten here, he searched his being. He did not find any money except forty odd disks that were in his pocket. He pulled them out, and they had images of a man in a suit smiling on them. Beneath the smiling face, it said 'ONE TOKEN'. Fascinated by the odd disks that were the currency, he pocketed them all again. Searching his being some more, he came along a suitcase. He popped it open to see two more versions of his own jumpsuit he was currently wearing, and some other junk. Frowning, the train suddenly came to a stop. Francisco stood up, closed his suitcase, and got off. He was in the middle of an odd city. Confused, he walked out of the train station and came along a booth with an odd 'fence' blocking the way past. He walked into the line of the booth, and peered down to the front. The man at the very front was saying some profanities in a raised voice at the man in the booth, and suddenly two masked soldiers like the one in the booth came storming through the 'fence', long batons raised and sparking with electricity. They both, without warning, swung them at the insulting man's face, and send him keeling on the ground in agony, writing in pain as he was beaten into a bloody unconsciousness, tied up, and hauled away. Perturbed by the sight, he slowly worked his way through the line until he was at the front. The man in the booth said 'Apply.' in a mechanical voice. Wondering what that meant, he asked the masked man in the booth 'Sorry sir, what does that mean? Where do I sign up?' The man responded by saying 'Name and Citizen ID.' Francisco asked about a citizen ID, and the man responded by saying 'The card you received had a number. What is it?'
Francisco pulled out a card that had been in his pocket, and peered at it. It said #09104. He recited his name, Francisco Howard, and his CID, 09104, to the masked man. He punched in some numbers on a pad he was holding, said 'Clean.' and then the 'fence' seemed to fizzle away. Francisco walked through it, and as soon as he was through the fence seemed to re-materialize behind him. Fascinated by the technology, Francisco walked through the streets until he came to the slums. Stepping inside, he was reminded of back in France, the streets he used to live on. He felt immediately at home, and walked up to another citizen walking about wearing a long coat. He asked him what brought him here. The man said in a low voice 'Business. Business brought me here. You interested?' Francisco shrugged, asking what he meant. The man opened his coat, presenting a range of rusted knives, some of which were broken. Francisco glanced over them, before settling his eyes on one with a smooth handle and a straight blade. It reminded him of the butterfly knife he used to have. He pointed at it and asked; 'How much?' and the man replied with 'Since you look new, I'll say.. Forty tokens. Take it or leave it.' Francisco, delighted, handed over forty tokens and took the knife. He practiced opening and closing it, and thanked the man and walked away, to see a whole new world.
What will these authorizations give your character in regards to perks or defects?
Perks
Agile build and stamina means he can outrun someone and dodge melee weapons better.
Switchblade allows him to take down unarmed enemies who are unprepared, or intimidate unskilled, unarmed citizens.
Knife skills means he can take on someone who just picked up a knife, and is unskilled with it, as well as adds to his intimidation.
Acrobatics helps him dodge.
His nimble feet allow him to conceal himself easily, so long as he doesn't talk.
Defects
Switchblade is not 100% reliable, rust included means it could easily break if abused thoroughly.
Lacks strength, cannot hold his own in a fistfight, so relies on his build to escape, or his knife to fend them off.
Most of his skills were obtained pre-war, so they will be not as good.
Accent may give him away when trying to talk and conceal himself.
His knife skills are not up-to par since he learned them with a different knife.
His quiet footsteps might startle people when he approaches them from behind, making them violently react. His footsteps also aren't entirely silent, just much quieter then the average citizen.
What do you plan to do with these perks/defects?
I plan to roleplay in the slums as a lowly criminal, pickpocketing people and possibly joining a small 'gang' with my allies I make ICly. I plan to enhance roleplay for myself and others in the slums through these authorizations, and the knife skills will allow me something to do passively, such as playing five finger fillet and practicing slashing things. The acrobatics could also be done passively, trying to do backflips to refine his old skills. I will not use these to mingerun, troll, or be unrealistic. I am normally the brute, and so I want to play things differently for a change. I will see where my development takes me in terms of rebellion or just being a lowly criminal.
Will anyone else need these auths? (If so, list OOC and IC name(s))
No.
Which server does this apply for?
City
Extra Notes (optional):
I have lots of experience with CG, as you can tell since my account is about two years old. However, lately I have been inactive and I wish to fix that.
Garry's Mod
Backup Sections