Steam Name: Pastagod/Ghost
Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:61578839
How long have you been on the server?: Today.
Can you use proper spelling and grammar?: Yes, I can.
IC
Character backstory:
Jericho Santana was born on a farm somewhere around in the decade 2260. Jericho and his parents lived in a small wooden farmhouse built from scratch from Jericho's grandfather that died a few years back. The birth of Jericho was a struggle for him and both his parents. His mother, a middle-aged woman, died during Jericho's birth. There it was ... A life lost and another gained. His father stood with rivers streaming from his tear ducts. He picked up Jericho and wrapped in him a towel, then kissing him on the forehead. His mother when pregnant, constantly reminded Jericho's father the baby'd been named Jericho. Jericho got his name because it's a biblical name. The name comes from a city called Jericho which walls famously fell when Joshua has the Israelites march around it. His mother and father were Christian. After that night, Jericho's father swore an oath to himself to see the day Jericho becomes a strong, intelligent and healthy man.
7 years later from that dreadful night, Jericho was 7. His father home-schooled Jericho the best he could. His father was a smart man, always reading books he can conjure out from anywhere at anytime. Jericho was taught basic English, math, religion and a little bit of science, but that's something the family wasn't too keen on as it contradicts religion in some subjects. Jericho would sometimes go on a task with his father called 'farm runs'. It was basically feeding the brahmin, inspecting the crop, planting seeds, patrolling around the farm, repairing fences and enclosures. As Jericho was young, he'd rather be a liability, just learn and observe his dad while he completes them.
Another 7 years, Jericho was 14. He grew stronger and smarter than most kids his age. He was healthy since he lived on a farm and his father grew his own crops of maise, had a small population of livestock of brahmin and a his own water source. He was taught about the NCR, Legion, Enclave and Brotherhood of Steel. Jericho wasn't really interested in anything at that age apart from the epic made-up stories his dad would share with him from an early age but sadly couldn't trick him anymore. As Jericho was older and smarter, he fully knew how to do farm runs and sometimes even done them by himself.
A year later, Jericho's 15th birthday had arrived. Jericho woke up yawning, rubbing his eyes of tiredness. He got up, put on a stitched comfort jumper and soft fabric trousers and walked out of his room oblivious to the responsibility that was about to be hunched onto his back from his father. Jericho walked into his father's room, glanced at his father to notice he was sleeping and he didn't wait a nanosecond to wake his father for a present. He shoved his dad to wake him ''Get up you lazy old timer.'' His father woke up to find Jericho in his face with a wild grin. His father said with a croaky morning voice ''Happy birthday, Jerry. Close your eyes for me while I get somethin'.'' Jericho looked confused but was also excited, so he didn't hesitate to shut his eyes. His father reached down to under his make-do beat-up wooden bed and held up a hunting rifle. His father mumbled ''Open your eyes.'' Jericho opened his eyes to see a rifle being held out to his hands. Jericho took the rifle and said loudly ''Thanks, dad! When can I test it?! Can we target practice on bottles later on?!''. His father laughed and nodded ''Yea, as soon as you do the farm run for this morning by yourself. I'm gonna set up the targets for ya' so they'll be ready when you come back.''
Jericho went on to do the farm run. His first stop was to feed the brahmin. Jericho went into the crates next to the pen and threw the maise in excitement at the brahmin just to get the task out of the way and test his new gun. He ran to the maise fields to see everything was average looking, he ran passed the fence surrounding the farm not even paying attention but doing it anyway just to look occupied if his father was to look. He eventually ran back to the house out of breath. Right next to the house, bottles on old crates were lined up and with his father holding the rifle ready for Jericho to reach out. His father taught him firstly h+ow to load it, reload, what to do if it jams and how to avoid it jamming. After the boring part Jericho let loose the bullets on the bottles being quite good at it in actual fact. That day was one of Jericho's highlights in his dull childhood.
3 years later, Jericho was 18. Nearly a fully grown man. But still a man, I must add. He was an obedient, handsome, average build and health young man. Every morning he'd do farm runs as his father gave up a couple of years ago when he was 16 due to him growing old. Every day he'd feed the brahmin, plant seeds, cut the freshly fully grown maise, repair/inspect the fence surrounding the farm, and so on.
5 years later a merchant from a place in Blue Ridge Mountains from a local town approached the farm and was interested in buying some maise. Jericho saw no wrong and asked permission from his father. His father agreed to the transaction and let it proceed. The merchant held out a small bag full of caps and gave it to Jericho. ''Cheers, much appreciated. Come back anytime when you want more.'' Jericho happily said. The merchant winked and said ''Next time I might bring a couple of friends to steal that maise off ya'.'' in a laughing manor. Jericho chuckled and nodded. The two separated, Jericho went back to the house and the merchant up the road next to the farm.
Later that night Jericho sat down with his father and they both sat around the make-do fire in the make-do living room with a couple of sunset sarsaparillas, general talking about anything. Suddenly a sound of a bottle smashing a couple of meters from the farm was heard. People didn't usually come close to the farm since it was well out of the way of paths and such but tonight someone was here. Jericho and his father looked at each other, both with nervous looks on their faces. Jericho put the bottle of drink down and ran to his room to get his rifle and so did his dad. Then, suddenly, sounds of people laughing, shouting and shooting were emitting from the entrance of the farm. They both jogged out of the front door for their eyes to set upon a fire that spread quick. Someone threw a molotov onto the crops. Jericho and his father stood side by side and his father mumbled ''...Raiders...'' Jericho paused and his face dropped. The two ran down to the entrance to see a band of raiders of six or seven armed with 9mm SMGs and 10mm pistols. Jericho and his father crouched, hiding in the pitch black. His father turned to him and said ''Quick, run and check on the livestock. I'll handle these.'' Jericho didn't want to leave but his father forced him to. Jericho span on his heel and sprinted to the pen as fast as he could to see the brahmin had all been shot. Jericho looked around to see who done it. He turned his head to see a raider running off into the distance. Jericho crouched, aimed his rifle and took a shot that hit the raider straight in between the shoulder blades, killing him. As soon as he took that shot, more shots were being fired down at the entrance. Jericho ran as fast as he could to the entrance to see his father killing 3 of the 6/7 raiders then being stabbed from behind. A cheap, stealthy and quick kill was how he died. Jericho shouted ''NO!'' and opened fire upon the raiders killing 1 then retreating due to being pinned down. He hid behind a couple of barrels sitting still in shock and horror.
Jericho eventually had the gut to run back toward the house and noticed it was burning furiously as more raiders were destroying the farm. Jericho ran past the house, slinging his rifle onto his back and ran to towards the broken down road a mile away from the farm. Jericho reached the road and broke down. He fell to his knees crying and shouting. He started to punch the ground furiously in anger of his father's death.
After roughly 3 hours of Jericho sitting on the ground feeling sorry for himself, he wiped his tears and got up. He turned his head left and right to remember which way the merchant came from and suddenly remembered the merchant saying ''Next time I might bring a couple of friends to steal that maise off ya'.'' He knew from then the merchant was a some sort of scout for the raider party and sworn vengeance for his father. He walked in the direction the merchant came from. 4 hours later of him walking the lonesome road, he finally reached a town in Blue Ridge Mountain, never to look back and start fresh.
Why do you want to join the NCR?: ''I'm confident with working in teams and obeying orders. Not too over confident to be disliked. Good with a weapon or two. I'm also looking to serve under the bear with any means necessary.''
Why should we accept you into the NCR?: "I'm a pretty good shot, and am willin' to do my best to help out the Republic; cause ain't no one gonna kill the bear."
Do you swear to loyalty to the NCR and its members, on pain of undisclosed severe punishment?: "Yes, I do."
Subject: Application Format 
Thu Feb 28, 2013 9:33 pm
