How old are you?: 15

Are you somewhat fluent in speaking English?: Yes but it is not my main language I am not as fluent as I most likely should be 🙁 

Why do you want to join the whitelisted roleplaying community?: I want a place where I can really roleplay and meet new people as we continue our journeys of wl

Do you have a working microphone?: Yes

Have you had any previous roleplaying experience? (if so we'd love to hear about it!): I have played dayz rp and arma 2 rp (and the actual games as them selves and of course I have played unturned rp) 

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: The snow laden cars packed silent streets and avenues. Frozen lanes for no one to clear left a considerable challenge for the wandering-loner-desperado-gunslinging-Spirit drinking-vagabond that is Sterling. He sleeked nimbly past the crevices and over the hoods of vehicles, cringing at the slightest noise with the fear of ringing the dinner bell of the undead. ‘Hey guys! Come on over so you can rip my face off!’ The though made him chuckle. His laughter was cut short when the sunroof of a deserted mini van shattered under his boots and sent him crashing onto the laps of a huddled group of corpses. “AGH! Again with the damn funny bone!” He howled and clutched his throbbing arm, ignoring the oddly irritated looks the corpses seemed to cast at him. “Uhh.. sorry,” He straightened his coat, “bout’ all that.” They stared but said nothing. “Look, I’ll just be on my way.” He groped around for his lighter that had dropped on the floor of the van. “I’ll see if I can fix it later.” No response. Sterling felt his finger tips touch cold steel. He quickly snatched it up and squinted at his new discovery. A standard issue 9mm pistol. It was comfortably weighed in his left hand, the curves added an interesting look to the overall weapon. He pressed down on grip and caught the magazine as it slid out, it only had three bullets remaining. The other four were embedded in the skulls of the surprisingly well preserved bodies. One of them seems to have turned the gun on himself. “Trust me, you guys have no idea how much easier you have it up there than the rest of us,” Sterling said to himself as he reinserted the magazine. “But I’m going down swinging."