How old are you?:

I am 16 years of age.

Are you somewhat fluent in speaking English?:

Native English speaker.

Why do you want to join the whitelisted roleplaying community?:

It's the only decent place to roleplay on Unturned.

Do you have a working microphone?:

Of course.

Have you had any previous roleplaying experience? (if so we'd love to hear about it!):

Project Zomboid Roleplay, Dungeons and Dragons, M&B Calradia Roleplay (Application checker on that too), LARPing, various WWII games I've roleplayed on, etc.

Character background- Write a background for your character. Talk about how you ended up in the apocalypse and what sort of person your character is- try to keep things realistic:

*A room in what appears to be an old television broadcasting station, there's professional standing cameras and a green screen, the whole room is filled with cobwebs. Thumping footsteps can be heard from outside the left door, a man bursts in and quickly shuts the door behind him. He immediately pushes a desk and multiple chairs in front of the door, and warily takes a step back. He's wearing a brown leather trench coat and a stetson, a brown messenger bag flops against his side. he has a brown beard and hair that messily dangles around his shoulders. He looks around the room from a stationary position. He notices the cameras and a slight grin would appear on his face. He walks over testing the cameras and hooking up various cables into separate plugs, on the wall he flips a switch, and the lights flicker on. The man lets out a mischievous laugh. He flicks a switch on the central camera and dances (very poorly) over to the desk in front of the green screen and flops down on the chair, propping his legs up on the desk. He slowly counts down with his fingers, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and a red light on the camera switches on.* "Good morning Bastogne! I would give ya the weather, but that's such a snooze. We should talk about something more interesting today on- *He'd glance on the clipboard on the desk* Bastogne news? Lord almighty what a boring name." *He'd hyperbolize a fake yawn* Anyway, todays news, is me! Yes that's right, all you dead guys and gals get to learn about me today!" *He'd say cheerfully* "Now ya might be wonderin', who on Earth is this handsome feller tellin' us the news tonight!" *A sly grin appears on his face* "Now ladies, I don't want you to get too riled up, but it's the one, the only, Macon Proctor at your service. Now I'll talk about me, the coolest survivor east of the United States." *He'd put his hand on his beard and stroke it loftily* "Let's start with my childhood shall we? I was born in Amarillo, Texas to the nicest mother you'd ever have, her name was Matilda, but everyone just called her Milly. Except me of course I'd just call her mom." *He'd glance meaningfully at the camera as if he was waiting for the audience to stop laughing* "I was her only child, and our good fer nothin' hogswogglin' turd swishin' horseshit excuse for a dad, was nowhere to be found. He up and left ma whenever I was two, apparently he found himself a nice piece of ass that was better than my mother's, and that's why he left. Now If I were around my ma's age when she had me. I'm tellin' you I'd have a damn Oedipus complex for her. She was the finest most beautiful gal you'd ever seen. She worked three god forsaken jobs, just to make sure I was dressed as nice and had nice food like the other boys at my public school. One of those jobs was goddamn prostitution, she didn't want me to know of course, but it's purdy damn obvious whenever she was always bringing these rubbernecks to our apartment." *He'd let out a small chuckle* "I had only one friend all the way up until highschool, this spic named Miguel. Now I don't want to be misconstrued, Miguel was a nice boy, he made good grades, aced every class I tell ya, even let me cheat off of him. Issue was he'd let people roll over him, cough up his lunch money to some bullies every day. Damn kid was starvin' I tell ya, course when I found out the names of these boys, I put them rubbernecks in their place. I followed them on their way home to school that day, and I beat the hell out of em." *He'd smile and look away from the camera as if lost in a dream*  "I went easy on em too, I'd only broken three of their bones with my beatin' stick." *He'd lean over the chair and spit* "Well damn bunch of rubbernecks didn't bother Miguel no more after I was done with em, oh and this was around 7th grade too, just in case ye were wonderin'. Now when I went onto highschool, I had a helluva time. Miguel had to move away, but I had a lot of social credits for beatin' up those damn bunch of bullies. Apparently, Miguel wasn't the only one who was bein' tortured by em. I was the talk of the town, I had girls that'd just treated me like I was shit linin' up beggin' me to be their girl. What a bunch of phonies, thinkin' I'd gun for them, only thing they wanted was to say "I was Macon's girlfriend". Please, who do they think I am, I ain't no damn phony like them. Do I look like a phony to y'all? *He'd look at the camera and shrug his shoulders like he still couldn't believe it* "Anyway, I digress." *A pleased smile would come across his face* "Only one gal I liked, this one purdy thing named Moraine. Now I'm gonna be candid with y'all, she wasn't the purdiest, but damn her smile just wanted you to fall on the ground and start worshippin' her. I tell ya, a personality of gold, never had her likes graced the ground before. A couple issues though, she was extremely shy. I swear callin' her name could spook her. Her daddy was the principle, and he was the meanest sonuvabitch you'd ever seen. You looked at him funny, and he'd give you a suspension. Ain't no way in hell he wasn't gonna let me go out with his girl, we already had history anyway." *He'd spit again* "I just settled with bein' friends with her, even that took me a whole year of buildin' rapport. Still, *the man would sigh* I tell ya I lusted for her. I'd be lying if I didn't. *a smile would purse his lips* "Want to know somethin' funny about her though? We used to play chess a lot in front of her house, and at the beginnin' of every single game, she'd immediately try to switch her rook and king's places! Not to use them but just to look at them together, she was weird sometimes. A couple weeks before I last ever saw her, she came over to my house tears streamin' down her face. Craziest thing had happened over there." *his face would crease and a saddened look would cross his face* Her pa, the mean sonuvabitch principal, had just shot her mom, and then shot himself! I didn't know what to do I tell ya! She hadn't even call the authorities yet! My mind was scrambled, I took her into my room, and laid her down on my bed. I thought she was in some kind of catatonic state because she'd stopped movin'. I rang up the authorities and they went over, and well, you know what they found." *He'd smirk* "I went back into my room, and she turned towards me and necked' me right on the lips! No jokin' either! I don't need to tell you it wasn't the romantic atmosphere, but hey, are you gonna deny some lovin' from the gal you've like for 5 grueling years? " *He'd sigh* "After the loss of her parents, the only tragic loss was her father, Moraine and I, we went up to collage at this place called A&M University. I was studying agriculture and she was gettin' into biology." *He'd smile haughtily* "You could say I had a, natural affinity for plants." *He'd look directly at the camera* "Now I come from a poor family, and that college is expensive. I had to drop out after a year, or I'd be piled in debt for the rest of my god forsaken life. Moraine however, with her inheritance money from her parents, she got all the way through, got a nice payin' job. This was around when I was twenty two by the way, for you know-it-all viewers" *He'd tip his digger hat at the camera* "I managed to get a job sellin' mattresses. Can you believe that? Me? Sellin' mattresses? *he'd let out a small chuckle* "I wasn't gonna spend the rest of my goddamn life sellin' mattresses for some fuckin' corporation." *He'd let out a hearty laugh* "I quit my job and told my rubberneckin' boss to suck my fuckin' toes! I quit, course Moraine wasn't happy bein' the sole bread winner, but hey, I ain't workin' for no goddamn sonuvabitch." *He'd let out a long sigh* "I should probably just cut to the chase here, and stop talkin' about my early life. A couple months after my quitti-" *He'd choke and clear his throat, a single tear could be seen forming at his eye which is quickly swiped away* "Ah enough about my early life, look at me, I've become borin'! Y'all want to hear about the good stuff. Like what the hell this handsome souther feller from the US of A is doin' in Bastogne France? Or, with the world gone to shit, how does he manage to look so good, or here's a good one. Why the hell is this crazy feller talkin' to a camera years after the world has gone to shit makin' a video no one's ever going to see? *He'd shrug smugly* "Sorry folks, I can only tell you one of those. Can ya guess which un? *he'd wait for a second and then he'd get up and walk out of the screen* "It's the one where you can suck my McFuckin' toes!" *A laughter sound track would play in the room. He'd appear on the right side of the screen and sit back down, propping his feet back up on the table* "Sorry fellers, that was a really, really, bad joke. I'll prepare the noose for meself after I cut this recordin' as my form of an apology. Now where was I? *He'd bring his hand up and tap his temple a couple times before fully opening his eyes* "Eureka boys! I remembered, no thoughts get passed, yours truly, Macon Proctor!" *He'd throw up his hands accidentally throwing a mug he was holding through a window* "Uh, I meant to do that. Anyway, the story of how I got here ain't actually that interesting. There was simply, nothin' left for me in the United States so I hopped on a plane goin' straight to Deutschland. Very inconvenient to me, whenever that's the same time people started risin' from the dead eatin' each other. Outcry about it was immediate, how it was some kind of "disease" *He'd shrug* "Personally, I can't fathom how someone can rise from the dead, but it's happenin'. Anyway I'm digressin' again. The guy I was sittin' next to, nice feller named Henry, said he was feelin' under the weather. He was coughin' a bit but I was fairly certain it was just a common cold. Person across the isle heard he was feelin' sick and heard him coughin' and freaked their shit. *He'd chuckle* "It was this old woman who had a chihuahua and you could tell she was just a snob. Damn I hate snobs. She demanded that the flight be grounded this instance with the pandemic goin' on and a sick man on the plane. So they put us down in Paris after she riled up all the other passengers. Goddamn it fuckin' rubberneck. Probably got half the plane killed because when they landed people started just runnin' toward the plane. I had a window seat so I could see the whole godum' thing. Well, they wern't human anymore, they were dead. The main pilot, he must've been some kind of psychopath cause he just went and ran em' over! They were tryin' to get at the plane and they couldn't. Unfortunately, one got all gutted up in the wheel and clogged it, so we couldn't move. *He'd shake his head* "Them impatient business types wanted off the plain, said they had "Important meetings" and other loads of hicky. The pilot said no for two days while those fuckers surrounded the plane and then on the third day. He let down the emergency slide and bid them adieu. At the time I was wonderin' what the hell he was thinkin'. It was purdy damn obvious that them people down there below the plane wanted blood. Them business folks wavered at first when he let it down, but they went. Them fellers down there rushed the business types. The first one, this one man in a nice tux, said he had important business to attend to in Belgium. *He'd whistle and waved his hands in dramatic effect* "He was taken down purdy fast by the lead *he'd shudder* zombie. The rest of them business people started runnin' and them zombies chased em. I wouldn't say those rubberneck snobs deserved what they got, but, they did distract them so we could escape, up and over the airport fence. Ever since then I've been movin' from town to town. *a cheeky grin would cross his face and he'd let out a small chuckle* "In this one town there was this nice ol' senorita, they weren't lyin' when they said France was the country of wine and babes! She had the nicest pair of b-" *shuffling and scraping sounds can be heard approaching the barricaded door, pained moans follow only seconds after. The man at the desk would sigh. "Well fellers, it looks like fans from my broadcast are startin' to show up! I would give y'all a nice warm welcome along with plenty of my southern charm. However I don't feel like that'd be too well, reciprocated, among my fans if you catch me flow." *He'd let out a large bellowing laugh and set down his bag on the table, pulling out a bottle of champagne. He'd look at the bottle reading the label silently* "Nineteen forty-five." *He'd nod to himself* "Good year for us Americans and y'all Europeans. *The moans are now right at the door and banging sounds are coming from the door. The desk against it shudders and the chairs are knocked away* "Ah shut your trap and blow it out your ass!" *The man would bellow a hearty laugh. He'd pop the cork on the champagne and start chugging it, alcohol spilling onto his clothes and into his beard. He'd promptly set down the glass, rub his sleeve across his beard and let out a large belch.* "Well monsieurs, it's time I must leave you. I apologize profusely for my overzealous fans, but, it's the burden of bein' famous I tell ya! Y'all take care out there, and keep yourselves safe, remember, it's a wonderful world!" *He'd let his legs down from the table and stand up, trying to brush the champagne off of his clothes but only getting it sucked in deeper. An inaudible curse would leave his lips as he'd walk over and put his head directly in front of the camera* "If anyone that isn't dead, or a phony saw this, *A smile would crease his lips once again* follow me on instagram eh? *he'd chuckle to himself before pressing buttons on the camera, the red light flicking off. He walks over to the desk he'd been sitting at moments before and pulls a length of rope outside of his bag. He quickly ties it around the leg of the desk and puts the rest of his supplies and half drank bottle of champange away. He'd carry the tied rope over to the window and give it a tug, he nods to himself and hums the tune of "Gory Gory what a helluva way to die" and jumps out the window. The door would burst open and the desk slide away, the scene fades to black*