Steam ID: STEAM_0:1:60156969
Discord name:Squizgar/Blade
For how long have you played on CG SCP:Since June maybe like 550 or so hours
Age:24
In what country are you located?:USA
Time zone:MST
Character name(s):Richter "Blade" Timmy Yvan
Civilian name: Timmy
What server are you applying for? (SCP-RP UK or SCP-RP USA): US
Do you have a mic?:
-yes
List all whitelisted, MTF, or CI roles that you hold or have held:
-MTF O1 COM, Ethics Assistant, CI Beta
Have you received any kicks/bans/warning? and why?:
-No
What O5 role are you applying for, and why (give the specific O5 number):
--6/7. I am applying for one of those open slots as I am looking to branch out beyond my combative work and begin with something new
What makes you the best candidate for the O5 Council?:
-I am work oriented and to the T with everything I do. I have quite a bit of knowledge of the foundation and its functions as well
What are the responsibilities of the O5 Council in RP?:
-Maintain the Code of Conduct while also performing in the shadows of the foundation.
What are the responsibilities of the O5 Council out of RP (e.g. what applications do they handle?):
-Be the final decision makers of the foundation, the "Immortal" decision makers if you would
Please give some lore about your O5 character and what storylines they would be involved in:
Richter is a retired Marine, awarded a Purple Heart for his injuries and services in Afghanistan during the early 2000's. When he returned back home to the city of Boston he would frequent the gun range and hang out at the bar down the road, "Rudy's Saloon". One night after finishing up at the range and walking to get a drink a mysterious van pulled up dangerously quick and before Richter knew it everything went black.
He woke up inside of an enclosed room, bag over his head and arms tied to the chair. A nicely dressed fellow in a suit with a logo that read "S.C.P" on his arm smiles at him and says "Hello, you must be wondering why you're in this room Richter". Astonished that the gentleman knew his name he couldn't help but reply "Why do you know me and why am I here". The man in the suit simply said "I want to give you a job, I know about how you performed in Afghanistan. You'd be helping with containing prisoners and escorting personnel for our foundation." Foundation? Richter was so confused at what was transpiring, almost like it was a dream. and almost unknowingly Richter said "I'll take your job". Without even asking about why those prisoners are there or what this 'Foundation' was. He felt happy though.
Three slow days rolled by before that same suited man and 2 others came to Richter's door one day and escorted him into a van, blindfolding him for the journey but engaging in small talk about hobbies, food, and other pleasantries of life. Richter had no idea it would be the last sensible conversation he'd have for a while. A day of driving goes by and Richter is escorted into a building, and through 3 different elevators where he's welcomed to a bunk, various security guards wandering in and out to begin or end their duties. He's then debriefed on what his job is specifically and given his set of standard issue Military Police gear. He thought it was strange, security guards aren't usually fitted with body armor and fully automatic weapons. Then he heard about what an 'S.C.P' is and who these 'Prisoners' are. And thus he went to his duties, watching over the area known as "D-block". All Richter knew he had to do was follow this Code of Ethics. give them their warnings, don't kill unless your life is threatened or orders aren't listened to. Easy he thought, yet it didn't seem to be that way for the others working alongside him. On the first day so many lives were lost. The Security would gun down any D-class that ran, or broke out of cuffs, Richter felt conflicted about that, he had even started making friends with some of the D-class just because they complimented how he gave them a fair chance instead of spraying their blood all over the walls. Then he got shot seconds later by another D-class hiding in the back with a revolver. Everything is fading to black and I hear a voice yell to me "Don't go into the light! Stay with me dammit!" He almost thought about letting go, he'd live a happy long life and this foundation was surly a dream all along. He then heard the sound of a defibrillator powering up and someone yelling "Clear!" and after a few failed attempts, his eyes finally opened. The gunfire had stopped and there was 2 medics looking over him, thrilled that they had saved another life. Richter understood why these prisoners couldn't be trusted now, but still felt a shed of sympathy for their conflicted lives. This would be his life for the next few weeks.
Its been almost 4 weeks. Richter's gotten a promotion to officer and signed up for Riot training. He heard it'd get him out of the chaos of D-block and he knew he needed that break. Training comes around and its time for studying, a quiz, and a quick run of a shooting range. Ah the shooting range, it brought back bittersweet memories of when life was almost normal. Richter performed well, being one of five people to pass out of thirteen attendees. He would be assigned a small group of 3 other Riot officers and they would conduct their patrols together. It was short lived though, on the first day of the job Richter had gotten a bag thrown on his head and restrains on without him even knowing. "I'm gonna die aren't I" were the first thoughts that came to mind, and a piece of him kind of wished it would have happened after the hell of the past few weeks. He was brought to a server room where the bag was taken off and he was being stared down by a squad of troops that looked way above his pay grade. The one in the center with a beret on his head and the codeword "Dirty" on his tag. "Do you know why I brought you here" he asked Richter in a serious tone. All Richter could say back was "No." He had been performing so well, why would he get punished? That's when "Dirty" offered a position, under the stipulation that he could pass a simple test and prove his skill with a gun. An hour goes by and Richter passes the test albeit messing up on a question during the test. "Welcome to O-1, Laws Left Hand. Richter is now dead, what is your name soldier?" After some thought to the name Richter looked Dirty in the eyes and said "Blade, Sir." And it felt like another new start in life, but he felt... comfortable? This was more militaristic, more like the Marine Corp. That he was so familiar with. He felt at home, almost like he had a new family.
About a month would go by with Blade rising through the ranks of O-1 and working with his new bosses known as the Ethics Committee. They were good guys, helping Blade with knowledge that he needed to properly do his job, falling in formation and giving their lives for the Ethics members to ensure their safety at all times. And for the most part he did great at his job, even assisted in saving a handful of the members and their assistants when being captured or in near death situations. Over time he would rise to be a commanding officer where he could truly shine in his expertise, leading and helping form together this squadron that he's grown to know as a family. Eventually even holding the mantle of "Commander"
Moving forward with the events at the foundation Mr. Richter has stepped down as the Commander and since then found a lack of ability towards his combat skills.. Maybe a more desk oriented job? Or maybe a job with the research team. Then the computer at his Command desk lights up as he's packing his things.
[REDACTED] Mr. Richter, or Blade as you would be known as. We have an opportunity to extend to you. The Council would like to speak to you in our office just down the hall. Be there at approximately [REDACTED].
And the screen went blank. Turns out there might still be more in tune within this foundation and the time with Ethics may be no more
Discord name:Squizgar/Blade
For how long have you played on CG SCP:Since June maybe like 550 or so hours
Age:24
In what country are you located?:USA
Time zone:MST
Character name(s):Richter "Blade" Timmy Yvan
Civilian name: Timmy
What server are you applying for? (SCP-RP UK or SCP-RP USA): US
Do you have a mic?:
-yes
List all whitelisted, MTF, or CI roles that you hold or have held:
-MTF O1 COM, Ethics Assistant, CI Beta
Have you received any kicks/bans/warning? and why?:
-No
What O5 role are you applying for, and why (give the specific O5 number):
--6/7. I am applying for one of those open slots as I am looking to branch out beyond my combative work and begin with something new
What makes you the best candidate for the O5 Council?:
-I am work oriented and to the T with everything I do. I have quite a bit of knowledge of the foundation and its functions as well
What are the responsibilities of the O5 Council in RP?:
-Maintain the Code of Conduct while also performing in the shadows of the foundation.
What are the responsibilities of the O5 Council out of RP (e.g. what applications do they handle?):
-Be the final decision makers of the foundation, the "Immortal" decision makers if you would
Please give some lore about your O5 character and what storylines they would be involved in:
Richter is a retired Marine, awarded a Purple Heart for his injuries and services in Afghanistan during the early 2000's. When he returned back home to the city of Boston he would frequent the gun range and hang out at the bar down the road, "Rudy's Saloon". One night after finishing up at the range and walking to get a drink a mysterious van pulled up dangerously quick and before Richter knew it everything went black.
He woke up inside of an enclosed room, bag over his head and arms tied to the chair. A nicely dressed fellow in a suit with a logo that read "S.C.P" on his arm smiles at him and says "Hello, you must be wondering why you're in this room Richter". Astonished that the gentleman knew his name he couldn't help but reply "Why do you know me and why am I here". The man in the suit simply said "I want to give you a job, I know about how you performed in Afghanistan. You'd be helping with containing prisoners and escorting personnel for our foundation." Foundation? Richter was so confused at what was transpiring, almost like it was a dream. and almost unknowingly Richter said "I'll take your job". Without even asking about why those prisoners are there or what this 'Foundation' was. He felt happy though.
Three slow days rolled by before that same suited man and 2 others came to Richter's door one day and escorted him into a van, blindfolding him for the journey but engaging in small talk about hobbies, food, and other pleasantries of life. Richter had no idea it would be the last sensible conversation he'd have for a while. A day of driving goes by and Richter is escorted into a building, and through 3 different elevators where he's welcomed to a bunk, various security guards wandering in and out to begin or end their duties. He's then debriefed on what his job is specifically and given his set of standard issue Military Police gear. He thought it was strange, security guards aren't usually fitted with body armor and fully automatic weapons. Then he heard about what an 'S.C.P' is and who these 'Prisoners' are. And thus he went to his duties, watching over the area known as "D-block". All Richter knew he had to do was follow this Code of Ethics. give them their warnings, don't kill unless your life is threatened or orders aren't listened to. Easy he thought, yet it didn't seem to be that way for the others working alongside him. On the first day so many lives were lost. The Security would gun down any D-class that ran, or broke out of cuffs, Richter felt conflicted about that, he had even started making friends with some of the D-class just because they complimented how he gave them a fair chance instead of spraying their blood all over the walls. Then he got shot seconds later by another D-class hiding in the back with a revolver. Everything is fading to black and I hear a voice yell to me "Don't go into the light! Stay with me dammit!" He almost thought about letting go, he'd live a happy long life and this foundation was surly a dream all along. He then heard the sound of a defibrillator powering up and someone yelling "Clear!" and after a few failed attempts, his eyes finally opened. The gunfire had stopped and there was 2 medics looking over him, thrilled that they had saved another life. Richter understood why these prisoners couldn't be trusted now, but still felt a shed of sympathy for their conflicted lives. This would be his life for the next few weeks.
Its been almost 4 weeks. Richter's gotten a promotion to officer and signed up for Riot training. He heard it'd get him out of the chaos of D-block and he knew he needed that break. Training comes around and its time for studying, a quiz, and a quick run of a shooting range. Ah the shooting range, it brought back bittersweet memories of when life was almost normal. Richter performed well, being one of five people to pass out of thirteen attendees. He would be assigned a small group of 3 other Riot officers and they would conduct their patrols together. It was short lived though, on the first day of the job Richter had gotten a bag thrown on his head and restrains on without him even knowing. "I'm gonna die aren't I" were the first thoughts that came to mind, and a piece of him kind of wished it would have happened after the hell of the past few weeks. He was brought to a server room where the bag was taken off and he was being stared down by a squad of troops that looked way above his pay grade. The one in the center with a beret on his head and the codeword "Dirty" on his tag. "Do you know why I brought you here" he asked Richter in a serious tone. All Richter could say back was "No." He had been performing so well, why would he get punished? That's when "Dirty" offered a position, under the stipulation that he could pass a simple test and prove his skill with a gun. An hour goes by and Richter passes the test albeit messing up on a question during the test. "Welcome to O-1, Laws Left Hand. Richter is now dead, what is your name soldier?" After some thought to the name Richter looked Dirty in the eyes and said "Blade, Sir." And it felt like another new start in life, but he felt... comfortable? This was more militaristic, more like the Marine Corp. That he was so familiar with. He felt at home, almost like he had a new family.
About a month would go by with Blade rising through the ranks of O-1 and working with his new bosses known as the Ethics Committee. They were good guys, helping Blade with knowledge that he needed to properly do his job, falling in formation and giving their lives for the Ethics members to ensure their safety at all times. And for the most part he did great at his job, even assisted in saving a handful of the members and their assistants when being captured or in near death situations. Over time he would rise to be a commanding officer where he could truly shine in his expertise, leading and helping form together this squadron that he's grown to know as a family. Eventually even holding the mantle of "Commander"
Moving forward with the events at the foundation Mr. Richter has stepped down as the Commander and since then found a lack of ability towards his combat skills.. Maybe a more desk oriented job? Or maybe a job with the research team. Then the computer at his Command desk lights up as he's packing his things.
[REDACTED] Mr. Richter, or Blade as you would be known as. We have an opportunity to extend to you. The Council would like to speak to you in our office just down the hall. Be there at approximately [REDACTED].
And the screen went blank. Turns out there might still be more in tune within this foundation and the time with Ethics may be no more
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