How old are you?: 16

 

Are you somewhat fluent in speaking English?: Fluent

 

Why do you want to join the whitelisted roleplaying community?: I have played on the public Chernarus roleplay, but I have found that it most people don't roleplay. I want an active server where the fellow members and I can create our own people in our own little world. I see this whitelisted server as a great chance for that, and hope to be accepted. 

Do you have a working microphone?: Yes

Have you had any previous roleplaying experience? (if so we'd love to hear about it!): Moderate. Back when I was younger, I would roleplay battles with my neighborhood friends, and I have played Dungeons and Dragons, but not that much.

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:

My name is Leo "Doc" Waldemar II. Born December 23, 1976, I served from 1998 to 2004 in the Forsvaret(Norwegian Armed Forces), where, when I left the force in 2003,  I had achieved the rank of Visekorporal(Specialist). I was a field medic; my job was to keep soldiers who were downed alive long enough for a MedEvac helicopter to save them. Although I was never deployed during my time in the force, I saw some dark things.

In the fall of 2003, I was part of a working party on the dock at Haakonsvern, in Bergen, when, to my right, as a shipping container was being loaded onto the Fridtjof Nansen frigate, a strap broke, and it tumbled to the deck. It missed everyone on the dock, but when it hit the unforgiving concrete of the dock, it shattered. Although the cart was filled with MREs instead of explosives, the damage was severe. The crate splintered and blasted shards of oak all around it. Next to me, Korporal (Corporal) Karsten Eilert was hit in the leg with about eight inches of a jagged one by four. I was hit too. A two foot long beam crashed into my shin, snapping my leg. Suddenly, my medical training kicked in. I crawled towards her, watching blood gush from her open leg. As I reached her, she called out.

“I’m scared,” She mumbled, her voice growing weaker, “I don't want to die.”

“And your not gonna,” I replied, “Just hold on.”

I could hear the emergency vehicles the base kept on standby screaming towards the carnage. I knew they would be to late for her. I did what I could, which was nothing. Holding her hand, I watch her slowly fade.

I felt hands grabbing me.

Sirens screamed.

The moans of my fellow soldiers all around echoed.

I do not remember the rest.

I woke up in a hospital bed, two nurses looking over me. As I stumbled into consciousness, they rushed for the doctor. “Six others dead,” he said - “and you’ll never walk again.”

 

Four days later, they gave me back my new laptop. Sitting up in bed, I scanned the news for word of the catastrophe. Nothing.

Three months later, I was discharged from the hospital. My mother, Margaret, wheeled me back to my base. There, I spoke with my Commanding Officer. When I asked him about the deaths of my fellow soldiers, he told me, “Don't speak about the ‘incident.’” The next day, I was honorably discharged from the force.

 

Three years later, I was gifted a miracle. Somehow, I stood on my own.

Over the following years, my life turned around. I slowly began to walk, found the woman of my dreams, and had a son. But I could not forget that day in 2003. The government never told a soul about the deaths of its “best and brightest,” and when I tried to ask again, they flat out told me that never happend. They seemed ashamed, afraid.

I felt I couldn’t raise my son in this country. I didn't want them to lie to him as they did to me. So we moved.

In the summer of 2010, I, my wife, and my five year old son moved to Chernogorsk. It was the town I dreamed of. I worked a desk job at the local police station, running numbers on criminals and doing background checks. I loved it. We had a second child, a daughter

Slowly, my movement was coming back. I could walk for long distances. I could run for several yards at a time. Life was coming together.

 

October 2014

 

Today is a dark day. My daughter is dead. Three Russian refugees burst into my home. They were Enraged. Bursting into my home, they awoke me from my sleep. My daughter was crying. I dashed up and grabbed the closest Enraged. He grabbed me. I beat him with my fists, over and over and over again. My daughter kept crying. The Enraged beneath me stopped moving. The other two were gone. My daughter stopped crying. My wife ran behind me and grabbed the Ace we kept on the mantle and dashed into my chidlren’s room. I followed.

I will never forget what I saw. These two Russians were bent over my daughter, tearing him apart. I cried out. The looked up. One was holding my daughters’s leg, severed at the knee. The other had three fingers protruding from his mouth. They moved towards me. My wife raised her gun. She did what the news recommended you do when you see an Enraged. Two shots. Between the eyes. They dropped. She lifted the gun to her chin. “No!” I cried. I lunged for her. My leg gave out. There was a flash, then a bang, then an awful splatter. She crumpled. I sat and cried for a long time.

Later, I composed myself. I gathered the bodies, and while I did, I realized something.

My son was missing.

I must find him.

 

Name:  Leo Waldemar II

Nick: Doc

Nationality: Norwegian

Left Handed

Skills: Good with basic weapons, highly skilled in medicine from his military training

Weaknesses: Can only run short distances and am very slow because of my injured leg, Hate Russians for how they killed my son. If I spot a Russian, I will try to hurt them

Goal: To find my missing son. I want to get to a radio station and broadcast. Maybe someone knows where he is.

I don't trust the Government of any country because of how my own Government lied to me.

Steam profile URL: http://steamcommunity.com/id/ThebigGoatman