Character Thread for the Forum Roleplays

[Þórgrímr]

This thread is for character sheets for the RP's. When you post indicate what RP you wish to join.

[BOS13]

Originally posted by Thorgrimm

Name; Gunnery Sergeant Kenneth Dickinson

http://www.stgfc.com/pnp/Images/gunny.jpg

Race; Human
Sex; Male
Date of Birth; December 5th, 2035
Age; 42
Height; 6' 4"
Weight; 220 lbs
Features; Caucasian, tanned skin, Steel Grey hair in a high and tight style cut, Blue eyes. He has a scar running from his left eye to the corner of his mouth.
Clothing;
Combat boots,
Desert camouflage utilities,
Experimental Combat armor with the Marine Corps insignia on the left breast.
http://www.stgfc.com/pnp/combatarmorII.jpg

Gear:
1 Desert camo wide-brim 'boonie' hat
1 Pair photo-sensitive sunglasses/goggles
6 Pairs wool socks
1 6oz. can of sunburn cream
1 6oz. can of sunblock
1 2oz. bottle of weapons lubricant for desert terrain
1 6oz. bottle of insect repellent
1 water filtration unit
2 bottles of iodine water purifying tablets 50 per bottle
1 'solar still' water condensing kit
3 1 liter canteens
1 entrenching tool US military issue
1 signal mirror stainless steel
1 sweater, tan
1 field jacket, tan desert camo pattern
1 10oz. bottle rubbing alcohol
1 bandana, tan, desert camo pattern
1 5 gal collapsible water container


Weapons; M-82 Barret .50 cal sniper rifle, 43 rounds of ammo for the Barret,
http://www.stgfc.com/pnp/Barret_Suppressed.jpg
.50 cal Desert Eagle auto magnum, 65 rounds for the Desert Eagle,
http://www.stgfc.com/pnp/DE.jpg
Thompson smg w 300 rounds for the weapon.
http://www.stgfc.com/pnp/Thompson.jpg
K-Bar combat knife in sheath on left hip,
http://www.stgfc.com/pnp/MARINE_KBar.jpg
PPK12 Gauss Pistol, W 100 rounds for the weapon
http://www.stgfc.com/pnp/Gauss_Pistol.gif
M72 Gauss Rifle, W 150 rounds for the weapon
http://www.stgfc.com/pnp/Gauss_Rifle.gif

History:
Gunnery Sergeant Dickinson opened his eyes slowly and tried to sit up, but every nerve in his body began to scream in pain. Like someone had set his body on fire and applied electricity at the same time.
“God Damn!” Gunny moaned in agony.
Son of a Bitch! How long have I been here?

As soon as the pain quieted down to a dull roar he looked over his surroundings, what he saw gave him a sudden feeling of dread. It was dark and musty, the smell of dust thick in the air. Cobwebs hung in all corners and on all the equipment. As his sight adjusted to the very dim light he noticed the skeletons of the medical staff.
What the hell happened? He thought to himself.

He slowly got out of the experimental stasis capsule, his medisuit dissolved to dust when he finally was able to get completely out of the capsule. As his feet hit the floor large puffs of dust wafted up causing him to sneeze multiple times. This dust caused him to look down at the floor and he noticed the one-inch of dust coating everything in the room and on the floor.

Whatever happened had happened a hell of a long time ago.
Gunny began to go through his normal waking calisthenics to slowly work the kinks out of his muscles. While he was stretching out his leg muscles he noticed a blinking red light on the computer console to his left. He went over to the console and noticed the printout, which for the most part was nothing but paper dust. In the last two days it began to print out items as they failed and eventually cascaded into critical power failure.
The last entry grabbed his attention, and he felt like somebody had just kicked him in the balls and tried to pull them off.

"Critical power failure imminent; beginning sleeper reawakening procedures." Then the kicker for the Gunnery Sergeant; "Procedure completed at 1545 hrs, 09 Feb, 2243.

Oh My God!

Exclaimed Gunny, all he could think about was his wife and 2-year-old son as he fell to his knees with the sheet of of paper in his hands and began to cry.

After what seemed like an eternity the sobs began to fade, and the titanium, which encased his soul began to reassert control. He wiped his eyes, and said his farewell to his lost family.

Gunny then began to rummage through the cabinets and drawers of the room he was in. In a cabinet marked radiation sickness treatment he came across an IV bag of Radaway, a handy tool for washing out radiation, but at the same time it can be mildly addicting.

He continued his search for items and came across 2 stimpaks in a cabinet marked healing. The small syringes were filled with healing chemicals that ease pain and encourage cellular mitosis, helping cells restore themselves at an increased rate.

“These will come in handy,” he thought to himself with a slight sense of irony. As he knew that these items were no big deal only ‘4’ days ago. Now though, they must be prized beyond imagining.

He then began to see if he could get anything out of the computer besides gibberish, as the power levels were so low that even the emergency lighting had not kicked in.

The only thing he could get out of it was where his personal equipment was stored, and one item of interest. It was a war warning that the Chinese might go nuclear now that they were driven out of Alaska, and the US forces were in the process of preparing to take the war to China. “Well I guess the warning came too late to save these people here”.

Immediately the flashback hit him: the running, seeing Mayo fall and running back for him. He picked him up, the flashes of the explosions, the sound of the shrapnel hissing by his ears, then the sudden intense pain almost too much to bear as his left eye went dark. He did not remember anything after that. He began to shiver.

The Gunny proceeded to the storage area where his gear was being stored, and took stock of what was left.
“Shit, it looks like I am going to have to completely take ‘momma’,” his M-82 Barrett sniper rifle, “apart and clean her good”.

After completing the task of making sure ‘momma’ was in working order he checked on his other gear. The deuce gear was beyond repair as the webbing had dissolved, and the only thing left was the metal frame. His K-Bar, as was expected, still razor sharp and untarnished. His .50 cal Desert Eagle was in need of a cleaning, but that was expected after how much time had passed. What was the most disappointing was that out of 100 rounds for momma only 43 passed muster.

“Hell I am going to have to find either more ammo or another weapon besides my sidearm”. Then he checked the ammo for his Desert Eagle, and found that 65 out of a hundred passed muster.

Of course his combat armor was in pristine order on the outside. Gunny began a diagnostics check of the armor’s capabilities. As this was an experimental set of combat armor Gunny needed to keep on top of its maintenance.

He put on the helmet first, and checked the power supply in the helmet. When he switched on the helmet’s power readouts he found that it had 75% power available, which meant that one of the small energy cells had gone bad.

He then proceeded to check one by one the sensor suites built into the helmet. Which consisted of Thermal, which is used for locating and locking onto heat sources. Infrared also for heat sources but more susceptible to environmental influences such as snow and rain. Ultraviolet which is an outstanding alternate way to see in the dark if there is not enough ambient light for light enhancement. Light enhancement which enhances the ambient background light, also called night vision gear. Motion, which measures micro changes in air pressure as items move through the air. Last but not least built in radar.

The only thing he could not be sure of was the comm system. The diagnostics stated that it was ok, and he was receiving a carrier wave, but no communication was being received.

He put on the rest of the armor, the first thing he checked was to make sure the fusion battery pack was still attached to the back of the armor. He carefully activated the power system, as he did not want to possibly overload the old circuits and cause a short he could not fix. He had 100% power availability and was relieved that no short occurred, as it had been quite a long time between maintenance cycles.

He then powered the armor’s built in lighting system, he activated it at different wavelengths and intensities, as if it did not work some of his vision gear would be useless. Fortunately for him it worked just fine.
He then proceeded to activate the armor’s stealth system. It was this experimental system that had to be watched. It had both Chameleon, which meant that it would change colors to blend into the background and light bending capabilities. This last ability was what had the most problems, as it actually creates a slight bubble around the suit, which literally bends light around it so the wearer seems to just fade out and become ghostlike. This rendered the wearer practically invisible in low or no light.

In other lighting intensities it made it hard for electronic detectors to get a lock and most people confuse the wearer for a ghost. This armor had saved his life on more occasions than he had a right to expect. You could even still see the Marine Corps insignia on the left hand breast, The Eagle, Globe, and Anchor.


Birthplace: Pomona Ca.
Religion: Southern Baptist
Discriminations: None
Mental Disorders: None

[BOS13]

Originally posted by Carib FMJ

Carib 'FMJ' Stryfe the Nuka Cola Chaser
Age: 23
Race: Human
Nationality: American
Height: 1.81m
Weight: 178 lbs.
Hair: Nuka Cola
Eyes: Golden brown
Description: Carib Stryfe is a striking man, endowed with a simple handsomeness. Sure, he is no Tyler Bellford, but his quiet and siren look and almost boyish face do move hearts. He is of quasi mixed heritage as his skin is a fair brown with full lips and fine eye brows. No real chest hair or body hair aside from legs and nether regions. Other marking include a scar on his cheek, one under his right eye. His hair is plaited, in a natty style, which is oddly very neat and reaches up to the base of his neck. Other distinguishing markings would be the tattoo on his right arm and the various tribal markings on his back and chest.
http://img172.echo.cx/img172/7002/carib6tf.png


ARMOR
-Dons a Helm with face guard and gas mask.
-Combat Armor minus the arms, Usually wears a Flak Jacket Trench coat over it. ‘FMJ’ is written on the helmet. Combat armor is well worn, and even patched underneath with cermaic plates in key areas.
-Usually wears Urban Camouflage cut sleeve t-shirt along with black military-esque trousers. Steel toe tanker boots and cut finger gloves.
-Black bandana with Nuka Cola Addiction on the front

WEAPONS
http://img110.exs.cx/img110/8977/fn200013yh.jpgFN 2000 Assault Rifle: Slightly customized for Stryfe. Complete with a computerized range finder scope and night vision capability at 1.6X magnification optical sights. The trigger is weighted at 3.5 lbs.
http://img110.exs.cx/img110/5017/xix44magblack6sw.jpg

Dual Desert Viper .44 Pistol: The Desert Viper is a total conversion from the Desert Eagle. The trigger has been changed to 3.2 lbs to make firing it easier. The guiding rod has been replaced with titanium and the bore sprayed down with teflon to make bullet flight easier and minimize cleaning. A recoil compensator has been added. The engravings of Vipers running down the barrel. The finish is blued and crafted for the quick draw, and can hold 13 rounds of .44 bullets. The Desert Viper is part of Carib's ensambles and a weapon of sentimental value, as it was his first weapon he ever owned and they were made and weighted for his hand by his Gunsmith Aunty. The metal of the Vipers is crafted from the fabled Damascus Steel, making it stronger, durable and even lighter then the conventional Desert Eagle.

http://img110.exs.cx/img110/677/combatknife26eh.gifStryder Tactical Knife: A Damascus Steel blade, this was hand forged by Carib's uncle. The Blade is light and balanced, with razor edge and serreated teeth. Never dulls.

http://img110.exs.cx/img110/6307/marlincustom8kg.jpgMarlin 37 Custom shotgun: A lever action shotgun, custom made for Carib by a gunsmith from the RNC. Sawed off for better concealment and manueverability in tight quarters. It holds seven shells and can fire in quick succession with ever pull of the lever.

IVENTORY
-IBM PIP 2000 Deluxe Limited Edition w/Slicer Software
-5.56mm Depleted uranium rounds x500 rounds
-.44 FMJ Rounds x80 clips
-.44 JHP Rounds x120
-Stealth Boy 3001
-Wattz Electronic *Skeleton Keycard*
-Extended Lockpick set
-.12ga Buckshot shells x50
-Pistol holster
-Side pack
-Ammo Back pack
-Pack of Suntan Cream
-Stimpaks x6
-Antidote x2
-Water Canteen x3
-Ration Pills x8 Capsules
-Rations for 2 weeks
-Zippo Lighter w/Shark Emblem
-Silencers
-Gun cleaning kit w/Lubricants
-Laser Sights
-Wattz Radio w/Military frequency and Scrambler
-Binoculars w/Thermal and Night vision
-Dog Tags
-Wool blanket
-Hard Bound Journal w/Pen and pencil

Background
Carib, also known as the Nuka Cola Chaser, as he is always searching for the right nuka cola, the fabled bottle of Nuka Cola Fushion as well as adventure, with a penchant for espionage and a good fight. Not much is known of him except that he was born in the LA Bone yard but was later relocated to San Francisco when the violence escalated during the gang insurgencies of the late 2228. He was nicked named FMJ, since he was known for being as lethal as a Full Metal Jacketed round. Coming from a long line of mercs, Carib learned to fight for survival at a young age, having lost innocence when he was forced to kill a Regluator in Adytum.

His life is one written with pain and loss, most of his family was wiped out by the release of the New plague which ravaged the southern wastelands. How and why, he and Diesel (his surviving kin) lived is still unknown. He still to this day bares some guilt for living when so many of his loved ones dropped like flies from the plague. The plague had driven Diesel mad, making him prone to berserk rages.

Having moved to San Francisco, braving many dangers from mutant remnants as well as mutations and raiders. He spent most of his informative years learning about the Shi culture, even dabbling with the vagrants who lived on the PMV Valdez. It was there he befriended Dragon and learned what he could of the martial arts. Growing up was hard, especially with a father who was both feared and respected by his bounty hunter rivals.

Carib honed the skills of stealth, often making use this lack of notice to his advantage, either in taking a contract or just getting out of view of people he doesn't want to be seen by.

As he got older, he went with his father on various missions, from reconnaissance to assassinations. They had much in common and Carib as a father does with his eldest son; learning everything from those years with his old man. Also his love for his younger brother, the brutal Diesel never waned, always looking out for him, no matter what.

Carib over the years gathered enough money to buy whatever he desired, having sold most loot or collected whatever money he could scrape. Approaching Doctor Fung with information he stole from Vault City, he discovered plans for special implants that granted the user resistance against injure, something Carib would need if he were ever fully scout out the wastelands. With a fist full of cash, Carib had gathered the materials and Doctor Fung had given him the initial Dermal Impact Armor implant. Though he would have opt for Phoenix implants and possibly another upgrade, the funds were limited and he was protected enough for now.

He is well educated, having used his funds to read and gain knowledge of the world around him. An avid fan of pre-war pulp fictions as well as the usual manual hunt. Spending time as a scout has made him aware of the wastelands, and how to live off it. He's been around, having visited every settlement within the New California Republic as well as the other known members like Vault City, New Reno, Den and Klamath.

Along the way, Carib encountered an enigmatic traveller by the name of Roadrunner, originally a tribal of mixed Vault heritage, she was captured by slavers and been saved by Carib and Harry when they found her village raised and burned by a shadowy figure headed by slavers. Carib never liked slavery having seen the misery it caused. With the aid of his father Harry, they freed her, and ever since then, Carib and Roadrunner had been partners, lovers and now bound by frontier law as man and wife - a partnership that the wasteland would come to respect as well as fear. Smitty now and again joined with them, but is now seeking some place to be at peace with his inner demons, but if Stryfe ever needed anyone, Smitty would be at his side at no time flat.

When Carib's father retired, he had parted with his son and told him to look for someone, someone whom he could follow, who could change his life. He didn't say who, he was just told he'd known. Just as those who followed the Vault Dweller or the Chosen One; they had just known. Those words came to him when they arrived at NCR and viewed the great statue of the Vault Dweller. That would be a moment that would change his life.

When Carib had encountered Gunny, that wish was answered.

Carib has a sarcastic, dark humor about him, but when the chips are down and a friend needs a hand, he's the first to come to your side. He'd do anything for Roadrunner, as she is the one person who he trusts and loves above all else. He isn't an idealist, but Gunny has proven that sometimes noble ideals make change.



Birthplace: Los Angeles Bone Yard, Angel Town
Religion: Agnostic
Discriminations: Hates Spiders
Mental Disorders: Post trauma syndrome

[BOS13]

Originally posted by Roadrunner

Roadrunner Stryfe
Age: 19
Race: Human (Caribbean Descent as well as Mexican)
Nationality: American
Height: 1.54m
Weight: 113 lbs.
Hair: Pitch black
Eyes: Golden brown
Appearance: Roadrunner is a short, light brown skinned beauty of the wastes, with two tails of braided hair on each side of her oval shaped head and straight nose which seems very uncommon from her Mexican heritage. The look seems almost native American or even a possible mixture of negroe parentage. Slender, but strong arms with some scars and weather worn hands that are toughened by living in the wilderness, as well as some old whip lash scars from her younger years from her brutal father. Two hoop earing's of fine gold in her ears and all sorts of bangles adorn her wrists and neck. She wears a worn, but fine black shirt with BUY WAR BONDS and UNCLE SAM WIELDING THE AMERICAN FLag in one hand on the chest and a pair of low rise black jeans. Thin eyebrows on a cherubic face and a cute little girlish pout. Has a small frame that helps her sneak out of most tight situations when need be. At her waist is a little stuffed tiger teddy, an item of her childhood which she will not let go of, Mr Binx is its name. She has a massive tattoo on her back of the Tribal sun, this was down by the Motora Tribe when she joined the clan and passed her intiation rite by seeing a vision.
http://img122.exs.cx/img122/7305/roadrunner7az.jpg


Background:
========
Roadrunner is a scavenger and gypsy, born and bred to feed off the dying land. A child of a quiet Church woman and a drunkard father whose profession was the dispensing of Nuka Cola. Though she loved her parents and they loved her, they couldn't handle that their beloved Roadrunner had a gift. A gift of foresight. She could see things, sometimes sense thoughts or events. Her parents had a different opinion of their offspring's gift, to her mother it was curse, to her father thought it was the work of demons and whipped his daughter, hoping to purge the devils in her. By fourteen, the whipping became too much, Roadrunner ran from her home and went to and fro through the wastes. Never turning back to that small community of Los Salvadores again.

As a nomad, a trait she picked up from her gypsy heritage, she's lived anywhere from the Bone Yard to the Hub. Very prized for her spunky attitude and her small supple body that seems to fit in every nook and cranny. And her ability to detect things or charms and such. She always carries around a deck of cards that help foresee certain events. Thus because of her nature as a gypsy, she is naturally an outcast and blamed when she foretells an event and it comes to past. She foretold the coming of the Hanged Man and his return to the world, for her prophecy, her village was massacred by the Hanged Man in the employ of the nefarious Walther Essex.

As an outcast, she tends to hang around with down trodden. Her old best friend in the world is Harold, the old run down mutant who tells her stories in exchange for food. Bold and brash, Roadrunner comes to you, rather then you go to her to make an introduction. She enjoys soft drinks and hates alcohol or anything that would mess with her perception of her surroundings. Aside from foresight, Roadrunner is kind in nature and has the gift of healing as well, bringing comfort to the afflicted.

When she and Carib first met in the slave pens, it was love at first sight. It was Carib and his brother Lawless that sprang the slaves and led the uprise in Iron Horse. They have been were married a year later, according to frontier law.

With her abilities, Roadrunner managed to pass the Vault City citizen ship test and even further her skills as a field medic with the likes of Doctor Troy. It was through her Carib gained the knowledge of implants which now Stryfe carries on to this day.

Upon hearing of Gunny's exploits and triumph over the Mordinos, Roadrunner encouraged her husband to make the journey to 29 Palms to see this 'messiah'. Now she knows she has a place in the wastes. And with her knowledge of Nuka Cola depots, past memories of long journys with her brothers and fathers to find the nuka cola that many coveted.

She wants to make a difference and seeing Gunny as the way for the future.


ARMOR:
---------
---------
-Combat leather jacketed outfit with Nuka Cola Chaser emblazoned on the back
-Wears a plain khaki Bullet proof shirt, along with desert camouflage trousers and olive drab tank top. Infantry Boots, cut finger gloves and camo poncho hat.


WEAPONS OF CHOICE:
-------
-http://img7.exs.cx/img7/2592/spas129ed.gifSPAS-12 Tactical Shotgun: Not much modification has been done to this tactical combat shotgun. It has two select modes: Semi-auto and pump action. Able to hold up to eight .12ga shells and fire them at incrediable velocities insuring anything in its way gets turned to ground round.
-http://img8.exs.cx/img8/4213/g17fixedsag058hi.jpgGlock 17 Custom: This isn't your garden variety Glock 17 9x19 parabelum pistol. This was a wedding gift given to her by Harry Stryfe, Carib and Lawless' father. A hand grip for easier grasp and perfect for quick drawing; it also has ghost ring sights to make targeting, epspecially in the dark easier. A modded trigger with a 3 lb trigger pull for quicker shooting and a built in self powered laser dot. Her initials are engraved in the butt: RR
-http://img8.exs.cx/img8/2651/combatknife12xh.jpgCombat knives (Three different, chest, thigh and hip): The usual Carbon Steel blades, each weighted differently, but all cut and kill bascially the same.

INVENTORY:
---------
-RobCO PIPBoy 2000 Deluxe Limited Edition w/Slicer Software
-.12ga Slug rounds x20
-.12ga Buckshot Incendiary rounds x40
-.12ga Buckshot rounds x60
-9mm AP x250
-Stealth Boy 3001
-ALICE Backpack
-Field Medic Kit
-Pistol holster
-.12ga Ranger Bandolier for up to 50 shells
-Ammo Belt
-Stimpaks x25
-Antidote Serume x12
-Water Canteen x2
-Ration Pills x200 Capsules
-Rations for 2 weeks
-Butane Lighter
-Rad-X pills x40 Tabs
-Rad-Away x25
-Geiger Counter
-Wattz Radio w/Military frequency and Scrambler
-Binoculars w/Thermal and Night vision
-Flares x5
-Snap Glow Sticks X12
-Dog Tags
-Gas mask
-Mini-Tool Kit
-Vault City and RNC Passports

[BOS13]

Originally posted by Reno

Name: Reno ‘Iceman’ Jones
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Height: 5’10”
Weight: 175 lbs.
Hair: Burgundy
Eyes: Crystal blue
Distinctive features: Reno is a sharp looking hit man who is either wearing a grey suit or a royal blue blazer. His burgundy hair is done in a pony tail, his collar us often undone and absent of a tie. A tattoo extends from right wrist to neck and has two horizontal scars running against his cheek bone, they almost look deliberate or tribal in origin. When on duty often wears an urban camouflage outfit with cut sleeve olive drab shirt and bullet proof heavy vest.

Place of Birth: Vault City Proper (Ex-Vault Citizen)
Likes: Enjoys fast food, a good fight and a nice fat pay. His mother.
Dislikes and Discriminations: The New Confederacy
Hobbies: Reno enjoys gambling, drinking games and music, especially writing and playing it on a guitar.
Mental Disorders: NONE
Confession: Catholic

ARMOR
-When not in merc garb, often wears a Blue blazer suit with construction boots.
-Military garb consists of light flak jacket vest (Tan brown color), along with desert camo trousers and olive drab cut sleeve shirt.


WEAPONS:
-Dual Colt .45 1911A1 Custom
http://www.stgfc.com/pnp/1911.gif
-Switch Blade
http://www.stgfc.com/pnp/Switchblade.gif
-M4A1 Tunnel Rat Assault Rifle
http://www.stgfc.com/pnp/M-16.gif
-Anti-Personnel Mines x4 pods
http://www.stgfc.com/pnp/AP_Mine.gif


INVENTORY
-PIPBoy 2000
-.45 ACP rounds x300
-5.56mm NATO x500 rounds
-Gun cleaning kit
-Gun oil and lubricants
-Silencers for Dual colts
-Butane Lighter
-Rations
-Bottle of Snake Sqeezin’
-Side pack
-Back Pack
-Duffel Bag
-Pair of Crimson tinted shades
- LMD Pack of twenty Cigarettes.
-Binoculars
-Stimpaks x6
-Tick Timer XXX-6 Digital Atomic Watch
-$1000 Chips

History: Some go to Vault City because of the excellent medical care and relative safety within the high walls and laser turrets. Reno used to be a citizen, part of Vault City’s elite. Unlike his fellow citizens, Reno was actually a product of the Birth Cycles new gene stock, stock taken from the fabled Chosen One nearly a decade after his triumph over the Enclave. So knowingly and unknowing he developed the Chosen One’s independent nature. Quick, wily and just wild, Reno never truly fitted in with the other blue suits, preferring the Court Yard or the wasteland to the isolationist ideals of VC. At age seven teen he enlisted to be part of VC defense force corps.

Reno was the kid who spent more time in the basketball court, or shooting range then in his books. His excellent marksmanship with a pistol or rifle made him a candidate for VC military service. His failure on certain tests prevented promotion to anything outside Corporal. Reno served with distinction, his only qualm was the mutant policy which he felt was far too bigoted, despite the truce with Gecko. When his captain ordered him to kill two ghouls who were merely trying to get there Brahmin out of VC territory, he felt something he never felt before. True they were taught that ghouls weren’t human, but he knew they could feel, they had dreams… he even had spoken with them when he went to Gecko to inspect the reactor. The orders pounding in his head, he picked up the laser rifle he was given and sliced them down like blades of grass. Since then, a wave of guilt over took Reno, and after some pondering, he packed his things and headed south, away from Vault City.

Self imposed exile hardened him against the wastes, his innate trait of survival had gotten him in and out of messes, and earned him a couple scars along the way. Now he loans his military expertise to gangsters, police and anyone who can afford it, killing with the best of them.

Leaving the bigots of VC, Reno traveled south, heading from New Reno through NCR and eventually Las Vegas, were he joined a mercenary crew and is currently bracing for an eminent attack from the Vault Confederated forces.

[BOS13]

Originally posted by Red Violin

Name: Charlyn Vidal the ´Red Violin´
Alias: Crimson Child, Daughter of the Red, Red Violin
Age: 25
Sex: Female
Race: Human
Height: 5´8"
Weight: 118 lbs
Hair Color: Black w/strawberry tips
Eye Color: Amber
Appearance: A skinny framed woman that still looks as if perpetually frozen in her teens. Violin is of Creole origins, thus having the features of a negro woman and the mock features of possible white heritage like her semi-straight nose with a small negro flare effect with the nostrals; her hair is curly but also very soft to the touch; her skin is a fair butter brown and lips that have a golden tint like honey. A round faced woman who seems to harbor the past.

You notice Violin has excellent taste in her clothing, especially in the leather jacket and black t-shirt of Cat´s Paw state. Her short curly hair is covered by a scarlet doo-rag with a skull and cross bones. Around her slender waist are two different types of leather belts, one for the pants, the other for her pistols.

Her distinguishing features would be the scar under her small chin. She´d have tilt her head upwards for it to be even noticed. She has a more distinguishing scar running on her left cheek. This came from a bottle being smashed into her face when she was twelve. A red violin is neatly and artistically tattooed at the base of her spine and a smaller one on her throat. A lovely red rose is masterfully portrayed from pelvis (closer to hip) where the flower is and the stem ends on her thigh. All this is a mere two inches exaclty from her pubic area. Other small scars and bruises decorate her body. A red skull head on the back of her right palm.

You see different rings bejewel her hands and a stylish golden braclet around her wrist with engravings of musical notes.


Character Personality: Charlyn is crazy; let no one else tell you otherwise. She can be loving one moment and compassionate and in a flash turn murderous and the next. Haunted by a vague past and tormented by a bleak future, Charlyn often finds herself being a danger to herself and those around her.

She seeks comfort and companionship, yet sense plots and conspiracies that aren’t sometimes there – though on rare occasions, she was proven correct.

Dark humour and passion compose and animate the homicidal musician named Red Violin, making her an enigma and an object of endless curiosity and fascination.

Her moods constantly change and thus even confuse both her and those about her. But despite her mercurial nature, Charlyn is one of the most honest and blunt people you’ll ever meet. Demanding and tenacious, often driving away those who are not fit to meet her demands.

Her capacity for violence has little bounds and if she has to make an example of you, she has no qualms of that…. None at all.

Discriminations: Slavers, the Brotherhood of Steel. Men and women who make simple things complicated. Those with zero fashion sense. Zealots to.

Mental Disorders: Amnesiac, paranoia and obessive/complusive disorder.


Background
Background Story: Musician, wanderer, poet, mercenary for hire.... murderer and psychopath. A woman who knows she has one or two screw loose in her skull. Scarred and beaten by time and forged into a weapon later on.

No family, few friends, lots of bad relationships. She doesn´t know why she is in Idaho; she isn´t sure who she is and why she likes playing a violin.... Charlyn doesn´t know how she got her name. She just knows that her name is Charlyn.

Without a clear past, Charlyn Vidal isn´t sure she´ll make it through a dark future clouded by figures of the Empire and the manipulations of a strange man who calls himself Essex. All she recalls is bits and pieces of the past.

Charlyn recalls a place that had no light and that there were others like her, afraid and confused in the darkness. It was a battle, a mission that she and others like her were sent on, except they weren´t sent to live or to find someone, they were go there to die.

She was a one of the lucky ones who survived. A man saved her and gave her life, but she had no memory of anything before the dark lands. Now she wanders, doing jobs and selling her rage to anyone who can stomach it. Charlyn doesn´t recall training, but she is deadly with her hands, and whatever she can grab. Her last job got her some money, and while wanderering and waiting for memory to return, Charlyn plays her violin and ventures through the long abandoned ruins of Old Moscow, Idaho. She relflects now on her killings and feels nothing about it, realizing the world was just as murderous as she.

She finds out later in life the man in black who saved her and whom she owes her life is none other than the nefarious Walther Essex.



Current Weapons
-Colt 6520 Delta Elite Dual pistols
-Sawed Off Shotgun
-Heat treated Combat knife
-.223 Bladerunner Pistol

Armor: Scarlet doo-rag with a stylish black leather jacket interwoven with bits of FLAK and ceramic padding. Double belts with metal studs. Pistol holster for Colt 6520 and a shotgun holster for Widowmaker. Knife scabbards, one in boot other on chest. Leather pants, especially designed for cold climates. Black polished steel toe tanker boots. Cat´s Paw Black T-shirt. Bra-underneath.

Other Items: Vault 29 Water canteen -Red Violin w/bullet proof case -Doffel Bag -.12ga Buckshot rounds -.12ga Solid Slug rounds -5.7mm JHP clips x4 -5.7mm AP clips x4 -Binoculars -Gun cleaning kit -Flashlight -flare pack -Cat´s Paw magazines Issues #1-8 -Money $1500 -Sociology Book -Stimpaks -Match Box -Lock pick set -Radio -Milton´s Paradise Lost -Nuka Cola Bottle -Map of Old Moscow


EXTRA: Charlyn has light augmentations: Thanks to Essex's tinkering, Charlyn isn't much bothered about the Dark. She can see in the darkness semi clearly, and also has a special augment that allows her to recover from sickness and injury at 150 % better rate. Faster reflexes and remarkable marksmanship.

[BOS13]

Originally posted by Naomi

Name: Naomi Alverz AKA Teacher
Age: 19
Race: Human (Latino)
Gender: Female
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 121 lbs.
Eyes: Copper
Hair: Reddish
Appearance: She has the look of a young woman, but eyes that hold a deep font of emotion and passion for life as they do for death. Naomi is of asian and American Indian descent, her hair color could be anyone's guess. Naomi has small freckles on her face as well as some tattoo work which sports some chinese kanjis and an emblazed Red Dragon tattoo on her back. Along with the tatts, she does sport some battle scars, one noteable which is a horizontal scar from a blade, a blade that belonged to Lil Jesus.
http://www.doublemoonproductions.com/images/draw4.jpg


Allignment
-Ex-Made Woman of the Mordino Family

TRAITS
-Skilled
-Bad Natured

SKILLS: Naomi is very skilled with small fire arms and rifles. Some knowledge and use of energy weapons (pistol sized). Her main skills would lie in her unarmed and agressive fighting abilities. Calm and cool under pressure, and even so under fire. Some lockpicking knowledge and has the habbit of being able to get into places she or others aren't supposed to be in. Basic science skills (can make gun powder and maybe some home made explosives.) Has had very little need for diplomacy, since her jobn is mainly to make examples out of people.


PERSONALITY: Able to be cruel and kind in one breath. Sensitive as the wind and ruthless as a tempest. Seductive and charming. Friendly to her allies and bane to her foes.

Naomi is a consummate professional, putting her job as body guard and hit woman before her personal feelings. Family first. She is very disciplined and honest towards her feelings and will follow her heart. Her ethical code is very akin to that of the ancient Samurai. Honor and blood.

She has a cruel sense of justice and is prone to killing her opposition rather then reason with them. Her inbred brutality towards her 'enemies' was from her har dlife growing up in New Reno and being discriminated against because she was a woman.

DISCRIMINATIONS: Those without honor and anyone who is deemed a threat to her Family.

MENTAL DISORDERS: Single minded... If that could be defined as a mental disorder. Naomi is like a machine - once she has a goal, she will reach it... No matter the body count or cost.


Background:
Naomi Alverz, daughter of Migule and Mia Alverz of the Mordino Family. Growing up as a woman in New Reno leaves very few options. Either you become a gangster or a prostitute, Naomi for her own good, was far too defiant, and chose the way of the gun. Of course, her parents wouldn't have that sort of life for her. They didn't want their daughter to serve Big Jesus, knowing that eventually both Jesus' would just use her for their own ends. That dream wasn't realized when her parents were sliced down under the cauterizing fury of Salavtore laser fire. She remembers to this day seeing them sliced in two before her very eyes.

Learning puglism from the fabled Stewart Little and even knife fighting techniques from Lil Jesus, Naomi learned all she could. Her defiant nature made it sure that no one would have easy access to her body or mind. Though she had to swallow her pride when approaching the Mordinos for a job, and it was merely the reference of her father that gave Big Jesus some sympathy in letting her join.

She wanted vengence, and the only way was joining the family. But Big Jesus and LIl Jese had a certain chauvanistic mind set of what the place of woman was. Still Naomi was determined, that determination ended up she getting the scar she wears on her right shoulder from Lil Jesus knife. A mark she wouldn't forget nor forgive. Pleased with her 'fire' Big Jesus gave Naomi various missions, missions which she executed perfectly. Naomi became a made woman eventually and even respected, though in her heart she plotted ways of getting back at the Mordinos. Fate would cheat her of that chance when Gunny came along. Naomi had heard stories of this Gunny and even aided him in his bring down of the Mordino Family. But because of her past crimes and the blood on her hands, Naomi decided to use her talents of death to a better cause. To the Gunny. Given a second chance, the fiery latina is ready to give the enemies of Gunny hell to pay, and perhaps even make her own peace.


Armor
-Hardened Leather armor worn under a tan flak jacket, complete with extra padding and cermaic plates on back and chest.

Weapons
-http://www.rpgplanet.com/fallout/wastelands/fallout2/images/assaultrifleext.jpg 5mm AP x300 Rounds
-http://www.rpgplanet.com/fallout/wastelands/fallout2/images/sawedshotgun.jpg .12ga Buckshot x20 rounds
-http://www.rpgplanet.com/fallout/wastelands/fallout2/images/littlejesus.jpg Lil Jesus' Knife
-http://www.rpgplanet.com/fallout/wastelands/fallout2/images/throwingknife.jpg x6
-http://www.rpgplanet.com/fallout/wastelands/fallouttactics/images/colt45.jpg .45 ACP x100 rounds

Inventory
Backpack
1 6oz. can of sunburn cream
1 6oz. can of sunblock
1 2oz. bottle of weapons lubricant for desert terrain
1 Gun cleaning kit (wires, brushes, swabs, etc.)
1 water filtration unit
1 pair polarized sunglasses
1 pair warm weather sand goggles
1 set of warm clothing (sweater, silk underwear, warm pants)
1 t-shirt
6 pairs socks
1 tan bandanna
1 wide brim hat
1 water filtration unit
2 bottles of iodine water purifying tablets 50 per bottle
1 'solar still' water condensing kit
3 1 liter canteens
1 entrenching tool US military issue
1 signal mirror stainless steel
1 5 gal collapsible water container
1 space blanket
1 sleeping bag
1 wool blanket
MRE's for 2 weeks
1 butane lighter Cat's Paw
1 box matches
1 box firestarters (learned my lesson in PnP Wink )
2 compasse
Jounral with Pen and Pencil

[BOS13]

Originally posted by ReVenge

Name: Dranz Wagner
Race: Human
Nationality: Born in America, although considered himself to be German
Age: 20
Height: 5'11
Weiight: 160lbs
Characteristics:
Pale skin, green eyes, long dyed black hair (originally blonde), small hands and fingers, no visible scars
Clothing: Flak Jacket with no sleeves, desert camo jeans, combat boots, fingerless gloves.
Hobbies: Making clay sculptures, thinking about girls, writing poems about girls, trying to get a girl, anything with girls, really.

Background:
A former Bishop Demolitions Expert from New Reno.

Essentials:
1 backpack
1 6oz. can of sunburn cream
1 6oz. can of sunblock
1 2oz. bottle of weapons lubricant for desert terrain
1 Gun cleaning kit (wires, brushes, swabs, etc.)
1 6oz. bottle of insect repellent
1 water filtration unit
1 pair polarized sunglasses
1 pair warm weather sand goggles
1 set of warm clothing (sweater, silk underwear, warm pants)
1 t-shirt
6 pairs socks
1 tan bandanna
1 wide brim hat
1 skull cap
1 water filtration unit
2 bottles of iodine water purifying tablets 50 per bottle
1 'solar still' water condensing kit
3 1 liter canteens
1 entrenching tool US military issue
1 signal mirror stainless steel
1 5 gal collapsible water container
1 space blanket
1 sleeping bag
1 wool blanket
MRE's for 2 weeks
1 butane lighter
1 box matches
1 box firestarters
2 compasses

Weapons:
1 M-79 Grenade Launcher

1 M16A3 with 203 grenade launcher attachment
1 .45 Colt

1 Machete

1 Mora Knife

Silencers:
1 for M16A3
1 for Colt .45

Ammunition:
10 High Explosive greanades for M-79 and 203
5 White Phsophorus (WP) grenades for M-79 and 203
100 rounds 5.56 for M18A3
100 rounds .45 for Colt .45

Explosives:
3 M112 c-4 demo blocks

1 M183 Demo charge
3 feet of Primercord
10 M2A1 Detonators
5 M1 Timed Detonators
10 M7 Blasting caps
1 programmable remote detonator for M1 Detenator

Communication and Tech:
1 Watts Radio
Replacement parts for radio
Batteries for radio
1 PipBoy w/ Explosive refrence data and bomb disarm refrence data

Armor:
1 Desert Camo Combat Armor MK I with "Dranz" painted on the chest

[BOS13]

Originally posted by Lawless

Name: Jonathan Lawless
ALIAS: Desert Ghost
Race: Human (Asian/Negro)
Nationality: American Asian
Age: 20
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 195 lbs.
Hair: Pitch Black
Eyes: Right eye black pearl and
Description: Lawless a is a tall, olive skinned man of muscles and scars. Handsome features of Asian and Negro descent, but mostly asian. Lawless has a massive scar running across his chest in an arc and a few scars mostly from knife fights seen on his face. His most notebale scar is the cross or X on his right cheek apart from the one that cuts across his left eye.
http://img29.echo.cx/img29/3825/bradley5lf.jpg


BACKGROUND
=========
You see, Lawless was an orphan, a boy who never knew his parents. Harry, his savior had told him his parents had been killed by one of the many gangs, of course, Lawless was never sure if this was true or not. Living a life on the streets of the Bone Yard. He lived there till a kind hearted family took the ragged and straving, tanned boy. That family were the Stryfes. Life was good till Regulators clamped down on Angel Town and Styx.

Least to say, Lawless was an odd child. A boy of asian and negro descent with an eye as black as pitch and another that was as fiery as hell. It would prove to be an attraction as well as a mark of fear. Even the hardest of criminals would have a problem staring him dead center of his eyes.


Carib and Lawless grew together close as brothers often do. Two years younger then Carib, Lawless always looked to FMJ for guidance and courage. When the Regulators attempted to seize control of Styx after the plague had hit, it would be Lawless who would stand with Carib till the bloody end of the battle.

After the battle of Styx, Lawless would recieve the Glock 18s he now carries today from Harry, a weapon that would prove to be a faithful friend and ally in many battles.

It would be in tha battle of the Regulators that Lawless got the taste for blood and never seemed to get enough of it. That taste for blood would never leave Lawless and karma would have it that it would never be his last.

After the Stryfe's fled the Bone Yard, Lawless saddled up with Carib and his adopted Father Harry for a year before he went his course and would one day become one of the many bad men in the wastes. An outlaw.

Harry had instructed all his children in the art of war, and in self defense, Lawless and Carib would be the most proficient pupils in the class, and Lawless would learn from other masters and other military outfits, having served with distinction with the Rangers for two years, where his weapon and martial skills would be sharpened. Also sometime spent in the Pit - a prison pen constructed by RNC to houses it most dangerous criminals. After a shotout in Junk Town, Lawless was fined for murder and was sentenced to twenty years in the pit. Lawless would only spend six months and break free, recapturing his guns laying out death like a card shark on his way to freedom. RNC became dodge city and Lawless needed to scram, so he feld the desert. And the Regulators would follow.

When the shadow of Walther Essex fell upon Lawless, he joined this shadowy figure feeling he owed a debt to the man who saved his life when he was ill with the plague. The wanderering priest.

The Priest hired his new protege for various assignments, beguiling Jonathan into thinking he was riding the world of scum when it were innocent bystanders who were trying to eck out a living in the wastes, their only crime was trying to find a place to live that Essex held interests in. He would later discover Walther used him to kill innocents, and Lawless lost it... He basically went on a rampage with a death wish, burning and destroying small towns after someone pisses him off. It would be in the Slave Town of Iron Horse he would be called the Desert Ghost. Having linked up with Walther had its perks, he came across a cloaking device called the Echo boy, making him blind to both visual and electrical sensors. The Desert Ghost would wreck havok for three years... Three years of burning and bombings.

A stern marshall and his fellow Regulators tracked and attacked Lawless. The Marshall was named Roots, Shillingers brother, a tough hard ironed man who caught evey low life you could think of. Adorned iN T-5b1 Power Armor, he was more then a match for Lawless, who fled. But Roots never gave up, he wanted to bag Lawless at any cost and bring the scoundrel to justice. Outnumbered and out gunned Lawless fled Neveda, evading death.

On th run, Lawless eventually had to come to terms with his error, being haunted by the dead he killed and by his own Darker nature. The visions of his twisted life broke his resolve as a killer.

Lawless evetually did come to terms with his self and vowed never again to kill a person, except maybe to help others. But demons never go to sleep and his darker nature still whispers in his ear, beaconing him to return to what he was. This has put Lawless on edge for years.

It has been four years since he fled Neveda and Roots. Though Roots is still on the trail, Lawless inetends to atone for his sins - one drop of blood at atime if need be.

The Dark side claws at him, but he hangs on. He make no excuses of what he was or what he did. He has learned and has become a better man because of it. He now sees exile as a means of redemption... but it may not be enough.

Now after the Confederated forces decimated Arizona, Lawless has now been driven towards California, back to his home. But now stranded in Nevada, he seeks to make some sort of redemption for the sins of his past and perhaps reconcile with his father and brother whom he loves dearly.



CLOTHING/ARMOR Known to be sporting heavy construction tanker boots with the steel toes. Affects desert leather skin trench coat, looks like a post apocalyptic version of a desperado, even has the mouth mask to cover his nose and mouth from the desert sands. Black gloves gauntlet on right arm and leather banding glove on the left hand. Wears a kevlar suit underneath the jacket and ceramic plate on the spinal and chest areas, as he has been shot in the back too many times, he doesn't wish to be a cripple.


WEAPONS
http://world.guns.ru/handguns/glock18.jpgGlock 18: Jonathan Lawless is very fond of his dual Glock 18 automatic pistols, complete with thirty-one clip magazine feed. The Glocks have an adjusted trigger making it a three and hlaf pound trigger pull, excellent for rapid succession. They have ghost ring sights, excellent for night fighting, with an added laser bead to help target those particular places. 400 ROUNDS of 9x19 Para

http://world.guns.ru/assault/fal_para.jpgFN FAL Assault Rifle: A weapon he picked up in LaGuardia, he has had it since. Accomodates 7.62X51 NATO rounds. 120 rounds of 7.62x51 NATO

http://img29.echo.cx/img29/1578/sawedoff6yc.jpgSawed off shotgun: A simple sawed off shotgun. Not fit for long distance attrition, but excellent for a quick fix and able to turn a pack of gangers into ground round.

http://www.cheaperthandirt.com/ctd_images/product_images/777/DBA-732.jpg Lawless' Tanto Ranger Knife: The 3.75" Tanto is made from Carbon V steel and coated with teflon. The blade is balanced for throwing and excellent for bypassing most low tech armors, the handle is rapped in nylo rap. It has an overall length of 7-1/2".




INVENTORY
-Echo Boy 5000 Stealth Unit
-Dynamite x6
-Pistol Holsters
-Gun belts
-Plastique Bricks x3
-Note Book
-PIPBoy Comm Unit
-Dried Jerky X6 packs
-Can of Vegetables x3
-Vitamin Tablets Capsule of 100 tabs
-Rad-X pills x9 doses
-Rad-AWay x5
-Brahmin Skin Duffel Bag
-Stainless Steel Compass
-Mirrored Shades
-Flint and Steel
-Buntane Lighter Gold Plated
-Water canteen 1QT

[BOS13]

Originally posted by me.

Name: Rob Schneider
Age: Early to mid 20's
Race: Human
Nationality: American
Height: 6' 3''
Weight: 190
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Dark Brown
Description: Rob is only slightly taller than most men in the wastes, but the fierce calm he exudes and obviously restrained violent air about him intimidate many people. His most distinguishing characteristic is a long scar running up his left arm from a knife fight years ago.

CLOTHING
-Black shirt
-Black steel toe boots
-Urban Camo pants
ARMOR
-Bulletproof vest
-Modified Combat armor helmet with full visor
-Combat Armor Lower Leg Armor
WEAPONS
-.50 Desert Eagle, 70 rounds
-Colt Laser Rifle, 3 power packs
-11'' Combat knife in boot

IVENTORY
-Gas Mask
-1 liter canteen
-Pipboy 2000
-Zippo Lighter
-Emergency First Aid Kit
-Backpack
-QuickHeals x5
-1 month supply of MREs
-Poison Antidote x2
-Rad X x9
-Rad Away x2
-7000 chips
http://img175.imageshack.us/img175/4858/odst15zf.png

Background
Rob never knew who his parents were. His earliest memory was waking up every day in the slave pens. He had been sold into slavery immediately after birth. The day before he was to be sold, when he was only 15, he managed to overpower a slaver and take his weapon, shooting his way out. He took all of the slaver's gear he could carry and left into the wastes.

Eventually he found his way to Reno. Here his oratory skills were fully realized, and he was able to strike many agreements between the families, many lasting to this day. On a routine run, guarding a caravan to RNC the other guards turned on him. He woke up in the night to a faint sound of someone coming near him, and saw a man standing above him, a knife on its way to his throat. He grabbed the man's hand and twisted until he felt his arm break, and took the knife. Using the man as a human shield he was able to pick up his gear unmolested. As he drew his pistol the guards opened fire. He let go of the man and dove behind a rock outcropping. The man fell to the ground and didn't get up, a few bullets must have hit him. In the dim firelight he could barely discern the figures of the other two guards. He fired two shots, and both went down. Again, he took everyrthing he could carry and walked into the wastes.

Alone in the wastes, he was able to forge a lucrative merchant career. His oratory gift earned him great riches quickly. It also earned him some enemies. After a failed assassination attempt he took the most direct action he could have. He walked right into his competitor's offices and killed him and all of his employees and guards. He had nearly been run out of town, but was able to convince the judge and jury what he had done was in self-defense. The argument would have fallen flat on it's face had it been anyone else, but no one else was as convincing as he was.

The trial began two days after the shootings. He would speak for himself, foregoing a court-appointed defender. His openening statements were primarily self abasement, calling himself a "simple merchant" and "humble businessman". He complimented the judge and jury members in a way so subtle neither party knew they were at the mercy of a master manipulater. The prosecuter's arguments were short, he expected this to be a simple affair. Through a combination of artful cajolery and ever subtle manipulation he was able to charm the jury and guarentee at least one dissenting vote. The court system in this town only allowed a sentence to be passed if the jury's decision was unanimous. After the jury got out of a four hour deliberation, the minds he changed in his testimony had prevailed. The jury found him not guilty on all 26 counts of murder. When he talked to the foreman later, he found out that four members of the jury believed there was reasonable doubt that he had commited the crimes. Those four convinced the other six that, because of the lack of witnesses and nearly no physical proof (forensics in that part of California were back at the point of the mid 19th century) he may not have commited the crime, despite his lack of an alibi

He was unnoposed as the sole merchant in the coastal wastes. Of the vast riches garnered in this time he donated the majority of it to the towns he traded in.

He had more money than virtually anyone in the wastes, but he wasn't satisfied. This time he left no physical casualties in his wake, but, rather uncharacterastically, an emotional one. He was engaged to be married to the women he loved, Amanda Johnson. He wanted nothing more than to take her with him into the wastes, though they both knew it was impossible for them to stay together. He couldn't sleep safely in town any more, and she couldn't leave, her elderly parents needed her there. They both knew how it would end, but it didn't stop it from hurting when he left. With tears in his eyes he said goodbye and strode off into the wastes.

Eventually he fell in with the Steel Knights. Other recruits there and even some of the senior men were intimadated by him. Not by his build, at 6 foot 3 he was taller than most people, but he didn't even come close to outweighing them. He intimidated them by the sheer force of his personality. He always seemed calm, and showed no emotion other than an occasional shrug or raised eyebrow. He had just passed his initiation. In the Order he honed his weapons skills to new levels, and was given his first experiences with plasma and pulse weapons. Although he favored ranged weapons, he seemed to excell with knives and other close quarter weapons. He was very agile and his incredible dexterity made him the best fighter in his squad, probably one of the best in the Order.

He had been awarded a rare weapon, a Laser Rifle, for heroic action on a recent assignment. His squad had been ordered to wipe out a Slaver camp. Snipers were able to kill several of the Templars before they could pinpoint thier location. With the squad leader down, he assumed command and was able to get behind the snipers. The squad was able to elimanate the Slavers with no further casualties.

He was returning from a patrol to eleminate a Raider base when he and the Knights with him were ambushed by unknown enemies. The Knights fought bravely, but fell to the fusillade. Taking his squadmate's mingun he mowed down the attackers. One by one they fell to his fire. Bullets impacted all around him, and he was hit once in the shoulder. The incoming fire stopped, and the minigun spun down, out of ammo. He used one of his quickheals and yet again, picked up what he could and wandered out into the wastes. This time he had a purpose. Someone had ordered that attack, and they were going to pay.

Birthplace: Unknown
Religion: Christian
Discriminations: Hates Slavers
Mental Disorders: None

[BOS13]

Originally posted by East Bloc

Name: Ada
Alias: Ghost
Age: UNKNOWN
Sex: Female
Race: Asian American Heritage
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 130 lbs.
Hair: Black
Eyes: Copper red
Physcial Description: Ada is a tall, atheletically built woman with a solid muscle mass, slim trimmed body and a oval shaped face with piercing copper red tinted pupils that dialte like that of a cat or reptile when too much light is reflected into them.
http://img161.imageshack.us/img161/6826/ghost17oi.jpg



TRAITS: Ada is Single Minded and cold: to her, things are usually best delt with cold logic and very little emotion. Being emotionally inexperienced has allowed her to carry out tasks that would be impossible for others.

COMBAT SKILLS: Ada is proficient in weaponry of any kind, from bio-weapons, to conventional and unconventional warfare. Terrorist tactics, her favourite. Some martial arts teaching, but even as a novice, with her strength, she can kill with the best of them. Also she has a lot of data on the human anatomy, knowing the strong points and the weaknesses of her prey. Demolitions, survival in the wastelands... you name it, Ada studies and applies it. if it weren't for her meager years on earth, she'd be far more deadly. She is interested in learning the anatomy of energy weapons.

TECHNO-TERROR: Ada has spent sometime studying machines, identifying with them, as they are cold and emotionless. But Ada does have a significant amount of hatred in her heart, hate that she doesn't know where to place. She has rudamentry knowledge of software engineering as well as hot wiring machines to do her bidding. She has a pet Sentinel she captured from the north. A senitel she calls the TC.


ARMS
http://world.guns.ru/handguns/fn-five7.jpg]Stealth FN Five-Seven Pistol Cutom: The trigger pull has been modified to three pound pull instead of four pound. Sprayed down with teflon, the gun is by far easier to clean and next to impossible to jamming. Fitted with an internal silencer, the pistol is nick named stealth, as it makes no sound, especially utilizing special sub sonic rounds. Ada usually carries eight clips with her at all time, though when on a field mission can carry about five hundred rounds easy. Uses 5.7 X 28 ammo

http://world.guns.ru/handguns/sw-mp-auto.jpgS&W Military Pistol .357: Ada always believes in back up and though she has a taste for foreign weapons, she does have a fondness for American made Smith and Wesson. Fitted with an internal laser sight, high ammo capcity, combined with strong caliber stopping power makes it her auxillary weapon of choice. x225 rounds of .357 SIG

http://world.guns.ru/smg/fn_p90.jpg FN P90c:This compact submachinegun is one of Ada's favourite weapons of misery and pain. High ammo capacity of fifty rounds of armor piercing bullets that can bypass level four kevlar armor is decked out and modified to her liking. Laser sight and improved sighting along with a supressor makes it the ultimate silent killer. X300 rounds of 5.7 x 28mm.

http://www.agrussell.com/var/storage/original/image/phpyhCCmZ.jpg Combat Knife

CLOTHING:
-Black leather jacket, sleeve rolled up
-Bullet proof shirt
-Black leather pants
-Mirrored shades
-Military issued boots w/steel toe and steel sole.

MISC.
-A black and white polaroid picture of Anarchy and Naomi Hunter (her parents)
-Binoculars
-Gun care kit
-Water Canteen
-ALICE Backpack w/hydration bag
-Silencers
-Infra-red goggles
-Fragmentation grenades
-Gas Mask
-Zippo Lighter
-Pack of Lucky Strikes
-Anti-Rad drugs
-Hemostims
-Battle field Medic Kit


http://img317.imageshack.us/img317/6341/adawong11ww.jpg
STORY:
Ada's life began Five years earlier - created from the best genetic material harvested from a young Naomi Hunter and a younger Anarchy, Ada was to be the first cloned child. The first successful crafting of the wastes two legends into one sound mind and one body. Birthed in the Sleepers Base, Ada was forced grown to the relative size and age of twenty five. Ada, adopted by Henry McCabe and his patron Walther Essex, didn't grow up distant or pyschotic, her personality had been developing on a subconscious level and though this was theoretically impossible, the combination of a sound childhood memory and an enhanced thought process allowed Ada to group up sound and very mature.

Ada has the traits of both her parents and unbeaconist to Walther and Henry, she did her own research into her origins, even meeting Naomi Hunter and Anarchy in Canada and in Boise where she saw her parents for the last time. Such revelations did open her eyes to Henry and Walther's deceits, but her strong will bared it and rolled with the punches. She now uses them for her own purposes and goals. It was her finding in Chicago that had alerted Walther to the presence of the COnfederacy and in a small arms engagement, Ada had dispatched the agents... but it was all a fore telling of what was to come.

Ada is a lot stronger and quicker then the average human and shows some latent telepathic abilities, these abilities manifesting themselves as 'visions'. Visions which have aided her in combat. This could be the residual side effect from the mental downloads of her life, childhood and memories she picked up from her parents.

Ada has the survivalist characteristics of her father and mother and her own hard forged will. Though Ada may have existed for five years, she has seen and done a lot in that time...

Ada does have a health set of emotions though every day she begins to understand the subtlies of gestures and even love.

She is aloof, professional and cold blooded when it comes to getting what she wants or fulfilling a mission. Returning homw has given her news of the Fabled Sleeper and his war on the Confederacy. Ada in her heart doesn't care for either. She has no sense of idealism or true loyalties. She calls Henry father, though she'd sooner kill the beast then hug him.

Tyler Bellford's torture and very presences intrigues and soon, Ada's full intentions will be revealed.

[BOS13]

Originally posted by PunisherSF

Gunny's RP

Name: Preacher
Race: Human
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Red
Height: 6’3
Weight: 270
Age: 25

Nationality: Irish American

Description: A large man with strong traits including his rock hard body. He looks like any other Preacher except for the large sword on his back. The hilt is a silver cross with leather weaved over it for a better grip. His black steel toe boots complement his parishioner clothing. A black gun holster encircled his waist with two colt 45s and ammo stringed around them. The colts have ivory butts with angels designed into them. Preacher is covered in throwing daggers hidden within his clothing or jacket. The throwing daggers look like crosses, and he never misses. He looks like a Preacher from an old western movie. His black button up shirt was complemented with a white collar. His black church pants were also complemented with a black round rim hat. One black leather trench coat covers the man. Preacher also wears black sunglasses made of glass and metal.


Clothing:
-Preachers clothing
-Steel toe boots.
Weapons:
-Converted samurai sword
-2 colt 45s
-50 throwing daggers (Converted to look like crosses)
-20 Smoke bombs
-10 Vials of poison
-5 grenades
-3 flares


Inventory:
-Bible
-Bread and water
-Medical kit
-Bottle of wine
-Grooming implements
-10 chips
-Canteen
-Leather bag
-Rosary
-Silver Cross
-10 Quick heals
- Grappling hook
- Rope 50ft
-Black and white photo of his family

Background:
He was born 25 years back on the road somewhere near Nevada. His family consisted of seven children and a loving father and mother. They were all or Irish decent. His father was a wanderer and a trader. The destruction of this world was the hand of God his father told him. He was educated to read and write at an early age, as is all in his family. His father traded in weapons, thus making his sons learn there use well. Preacher was taught to use two Colt 45s due to his young age. Preachers name was lost in the sands of time, as was his family. They were on a trip to Old Sin when they were ambushed by a gang. His father was killed, his mother raped and murdered. His six younger siblings were rushed away into the darkness. This was the young boy’s first taste of killing. He shot one of them men trying to take him, with his father’s colts. He ran until a group of traveling monks found him dying in the wastes.

They taught him the ways of God. They were of the Catholic faith and made him a disciple. They went from city to city preaching the word of God. Most of the time, they were welcomed with happy lost hearts looking for a cause in life. But now and then they were forced out of the city by a mob or local power. After some time Preacher was taken back to a Franciscan monastery. There they taught him how to use a sword, throw daggers, and blend into the shadows. Last but not least how to be extremely swift. God granted Preacher holy speed and reflexes. The Asian monk named Shan obi trained him in the Franciscan secrets. This training took up 19 years of his life. Most monks are trained in this; the wasteland is not easy on anyone. Self defense was common even for a priest He was sent on missions by the monks for the last four years of the nineteen. He assassinated slavers and other enemy’s of the church. He was known as the right hand of God by his monk brothers. He is the best assassin within the Franciscan teachings. However Preacher has not taken any vows but to serve God. He is not really a Preacher but the name fit. He has had little to do with relationships but God will lead him in the right direction. There is much work to do for the Lord. A Priest really can’t kill. So Preacher left him self open to do God’s will and protect his brothers. After doing this for twenty years Preacher decided it was time to go find his family. Preacher had loved his new family, but it was time to move on. Preacher has established network of Intel from these monasteries and monks in most of the western US.



Preacher was out in the middle of the wastes when a bright light blinded him. A voice from the heavens commanded him to go and protect his flock Also that God would us him as his right hand. Angles visited him telling him where to go and what to do. Preacher visited town after town destroying the wicked and helping the weak. Protecting God’s flock was his only mission in life. Then one day Preacher was visited by Michael the Arch Angle. He was told the end of the world was near. The beast walked among God’s flock. The devil has planted wolfs into his flock to stop the word of God. Preacher was told of the beast’s army….The Confederacy and its undead army. God commanded Preacher to go forth and stop the devil from harming the sheep. Preacher swore to God that he would defend his flock from the evil. The seals were being broken and the end of the world is at hand. Preacher must stop Satan from breaking the seal and aid God’s chosen people to victory and New Jerusalem.

He was told to go to Twenty Nine Palms by the Angle. He was told that there were two keys to the puzzle there for him. He trusted God with his full faith. He was on the outskirts of the city as the sun set in the distance. The desert was an unstinted place at dusk and night. Preacher always liked the dark. It was odd for a man of God to love the night.

[BOS13]

Originally posted by Annie.

Name; Mae Oasis Adams
Race; Human
Sex; Female
Date of Birth; October 11, 2327
Age; 19
Height; 5' 7"
Weight; 135 lbs
Features; Caucasian, slim, solid build, black hair jaggedly cut with knife to shoulder length, blue/gray eyes.
Clothing; Baggy blue jeans held up by leather belt, dirt covered boots, navy blue tank top, and old army jacket.
Inventory; Gasmask, anti-radiation medicine, hunting knife, rifle.


History; Mae lay awake, eyes closed, trying to ignore the sounds of wailing children, and the shouting of Confederate soldiers. All I want is one frigging hour of peace! Mae screamed silently in her head. It’s the only place she cared to be anymore, in her head, where no one could touch her and no one could tell her what to do, or what to think. Giving up on sleep, Mae got up and silently slipped among the others, careful not to wake them. It was dark, but Mae knew her way around the Vault like it was the back of her hand.
The Vault was constructed near what was once Kansas City, Missouri. It was built in order to preserve human life in case of nuclear warfare. Little did they know it would become so useful. Mae was born and raised here. She was restless, and tired of waiting around for someone else to come and save them from the Confederates who had taken over her home. There was talk of a Marine force gathering strength in California, but that wasn’t good enough for her. She needed to be involved, to do something that made her life worthwhile and separated her from the rest of these drifter bums, who would rather kiss confederate ass than take a stand for themselves.
Mae had lost her family to radiation sickness. The Feddies had "neglected" to pass out the treatment to her family. Truth be told, Mae's father and mother weren’t any more willing to comply with the Confederates than she was. Three years ago, when Mae was 16, her father and mother had been organizing a revolt in their vault. Most of the residents in the Vault were in on the organization and all was going well, until some kind of Judas had to go a betray them all. After that, things went down hill for her family. Her parents were thrown into jail, and were not given the anti-radiation treatment. Mae was left alone to fend for herself on the streets. Now that the revolt had been broken up, no one wanted to be associated with her for fear that the Feddies would harm their families. Weeks past as Mae struggled to survive, and always on the look out for a way to help her parents. None came, and finally one day, there was a great crowd gathered in the center of the vault. As Mae made her way to the edge of the crowd, they moved reverently apart so that she could see the horror that lay behind the flesh wall they created.
In the middle of the group lay her parents' dead mutilated bodies. A sign was posted near them, threatening the rest of the vaulters, that this is what awaited anyone who opposed the new order. Mae felt her knees go weak, and she fell to the ground. Blue eyes closed tight, she let each tear of pain seep through, onto her dirt-covered cheeks. Mae sat and wept for hours, and no one came to comfort her. There was no passing touch of sympathy, no words of wisdom whispered in her ear. It was at this moment she realized that she was alone in this world, or at least in this town. At this moment, she realized that she would have no friends here, that these people were weak. After one failure to gain freedom back, they had given up. She would not give up. So, from that day on, Mae was a security guard for the vault. Working along side the exact same Confederates that killed her parents. Her goal was to get as close to the Feddies as she could, gain their trust, then stab them in the back with it.
Three years passed, and she was now regarded as one of the most reformed, and well trusted people of the vault. Just as planned, the Confederates loved her. They turned to her when they needed someone to control a crowd, knowing that as a vault resident herself, she would have more respect from the people than they would. Mae was "closest" to her Commanding Officer, Han Goligowski, a tall, lean man that treated most people of the vault as if they were the scum that crusted around his fingernails. As a security guard, Mae was equipt with a rifle, and as her own safety precaution, she kept a hunting knife, by her side at all times. Since she was a guard, she was always given her anti-radiation medicine, and she also knew where she could find some if she were ever to need more. It was early in the morning, but Mae made her way to work.
As she reached the Security Base, the Confederate soldiers greeted her warmly, and she greeted them back showing the same warmth, but inside she was seething. Normally she was able to keep her cool, but today was different, today she was sick of having to live a double life. Her anger only intensified when she saw Han standing at her locker waiting for her. He smiled widely as she approached, and reached out to put his arm around her waist. Lately he had been trying to become a bit more physical than Mae would have liked, and every time he touched her, she thought of a new way to kill him. This time, she thought kicking him in the groin then tying the strap of her bag around his neck and strangling him. It was this thought that made her smile and giggle as he brought her closer into him. "How are you my dear?" he whispered in her ear, his lips then caressed her cheek as she pulled away.
"Oh Han, must you insist on doing this at work." she sighed, then began to open her locker. "You know I want to keep my job here, and if they catch you handling me so, they might get the wrong idea. "
"Don't pretend you don’t like it Mae, I see the way you look at me." I guess you could call the way I look at you love, if you mean the way would love to kill you, she thought to herself, but continued her act.
She turned toward him, looked longingly into his eyes and said, "Caught me again have you? My stealing glances across the room? It’s true Han, there’s nothing I want more in the world than to be with you." She moved in closer, her skin beginning to crawl as he wrapped his arms around her. Their lips touched, and again her head was filled with thoughts of murder. Its early morning, no one is around, she thought. Her hand began to wrap around her hunting knife as she lured Han into a more secluded area. Once she had him completely alone, and securely in her trap, she swiftly brought out her knife and laid it upon him. She felt the blade pierce his stomach, and proceed to make its way through his entrails. He gasped for breath, and fell into her arms. His eyes watered as he looked at her for the last time, pleading that it was not so. She felt a twinge of pain as the memories of their time together swept over, but just as quickly as they came, they were replaced by the memory of her parents’ dead bodies, strung up in public for all to see. He took his last breath, and his eyes closed, tears streaming down his cold dead cheeks. Hands shaking, she bowed over kissed his wet cheek and whispered in his deaf ear, '"I'm sorry."
There was no time for any regret, as she raced to get out of the area. She remained calm on the outside, but on the inside, her mind and body were racing. I need more anti-radiation medicine...I need my gasmask...should I say goodbye to...no, I need to get out of here as quick as possible... Each thought brought on a new one, and each one was important to her survival. She gathered her belongings, and set out to the vault door. There were some Confederate soldiers around the door guarding it. Luckily, they knew her by sight, and asked a minimal amount of questions before letting her pass. She was out in the open, outside for the first time in years. The desert sun shined brightly and hurt her eyes, but driven by fear and rage, she carried on. She was without much of a plan, and was on her own...


Discriminations; Only discriminates when it comes to the enemy.
Mental Disorders; None.
Birthplace; Vaultm located near Kansas City, Missouri
Religion; Raised Catholic, but that’s not saying much.

[BOS13]

Originally posted by Minion1001

Name: Brian Worthington
Age: 23
Nationality: Canadian
Height: 7’0”
Weight: 300
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Blue
Description: Brian was taller then nearly every non mutant man and had near zero fat on him. He could bench 300 pounds and squat near 1000
Inventory: 12 gauge shotgun with 20 shells, M92 Beretta with 30 rounds, Knife
Cloths: blue jeans, white T-shirt, leather jacket.


Brian was out working on his 1971 charger in his shed out behind his house. The car was in perfect condition but he had become so accustomed to working on it that it would feel weird if he didn’t work on the car. Him and his father found it in one of their weekly trips to Fort Nelson to scavenge for food, metal and supplies.

Nelson had only been hit buy a neutron bomb, so everything was pretty much the same. Brian had found it in a parking garage and asked his dad if they could take it back and fix it up. After his father agreed they hooked it up to a Brahmin and pulled it back to their house where they spent the next 3 years fixing it. The trickiest thing was changing it from using gasoline to using methanol. Brian had to design a whole new carburetor. He wasn’t smart, just an average intelligence, but he knew engines—he would find random machines at as young as 10 and take them apart and put them back together.

Brian’s other hobby was guns, he had his sawed off 12 gauge, which he kept with him for protection purposes, and only had to pull it once in a trade when he and his father went to town. The other gentlemen pulled his knife and said,
“How about you to just leave your goods here and go back to your home and nothing will happen here that doesn't have to happen.”

This is when Brian pulled his shotgun out from under his jacket and shot a street sign about 5 feet away and blew the thing clean off. As the sign fell to the ground he said
“How about you give us your goods in exchange for our goods and that won’t happen to your head.”

Brian, remembering his fun and adventure over the years with his dad and trading in towns, heard gunshots coming from the house and heard his wife screams. Brian grabbed his shot gun and his father’s Beretta, as well as his hunting knife, which his grandfather had given him before he died. He stuck it in his boot and the hand gun in his pants and took off toward the house. When he reached the back of the house he saw two men in the house as he walked to the side he saw one in front. He then went to the back door and slowly turned the knob. He assumed a crouched position to stay below the window, and slowly opened the door and there he saw his wife on the kitchen table, a bullet wound to her chest and still alive, a man hovering over her at the end of the table.

The man then spread her legs and grabbed her and unzipped his pants. Brian, by then in a blind rage, threw the door open and shouldered his shotgun and shot the man on the outside of his left knee, so as not to hit his wife with any of the shrapnel. He then turned into the living room where the other man was standing there in awe, and shot him in the chest and blew him into the wall. Brian watched him slide down he then turned and saw his dad with his rifle in his hands and 2 bullet wounds in his chest in a pool of blood on the floor. Then he turned to the front door where the other remaining man was standing, he threw his shotgun down and dove behind the couch catching a bullet that grazed his right wrist as the man fired his handgun.

Brian rolled and recovered, and pulled his pistol, shooting the man three times in the chest and once in the head. He then stood and as he was turning toward the kitchen he felt something tear through his left calf. Turning, he saw the man in the kitchen was on the floor and holding a smoking gun. The man fired again but missed. Brian then leapt at him, ripping the gun from his hands and breaking the man’s wrist in the process. Brian picked him up and his right hand turned to a fist as he wound up and unleashed it like a bat out of hell into his lower jaw. The man flew two feet off the ground and four feet over into the wall and was knocked out cold.

Brian ran to his wife, who was still on the table. She was alive, but barely. He picked her up and took her to their room and laid her on the bed. He held her and comforted her as her death neared. Brian looked into her beautiful blue eyes and saw the life start to leave them as he told her he loved her and that they would be together again. She managed a little smile and muttered the words, “I love you,” as she drifted off.

He sat there and held her for several hours then he finally let her go. Seeing the golden cross on her neck he took it in his hands and closed it in a fist. He then took one last look at her and the rage filled him again. Looking down at his hand, he noticed blood. He had squeezed the cross so hard it cut into his hand, leaving its shape carved into his flesh. He then stumbled down the stairs and passed his dead mother and father in the living room. In the kitchen he saw the man regaining consciousness. He walked into the room, not even feeling the pain in his leg any more, grabbed the man’s leg and dragged him outside and threw him into the Brahmin’s water trough. When man started to yell he grabbed him and stood him up and said, “You son of a bitch you killed my wife and you were going to rape her.”

He went to the shed and returned with a red hot skewer that he had retrieved from the outbuilding. Blind with rage, he shoved the skewer in to the man’s shoulder, right above his collarbone. When he saw that the skewer was all the way through, he dunked the man in water again, and grabbed both protruding sides of the skewer and started to spin him in circle. The skewer was still extremely hot, and was burning his hand, but he didn’t care. He let go and the man flew into a tree sideways, and did a helicopter motion before collapsing on the ground. Brian grabbed him and dragged him back to the shed and tied a rope around his foot and hung him from the roof. He savagely beat the bound man until the internal hemorrhaging drained the last bit of life from the man. Brian went back to his house and buried his mother, father and wife in the back yard next to their biggest tree. Returning to the house, still covered in blood, he sat on the couch and cried.

Brian knew he had to get out of there and fast because whoever those men were, there would probably be more of them. These men must have been after his father because of him being the mayor of the surrounding area. Brian had heard of other political figures getting attacked. Who ever they where they didn’t want any kind of government being constructed. He patched himself up as best he could. He hoped his leg would heal quickly and that it wouldn’t impair his movement too much. He packed as much food as well as his pistol, shotgun, and ammo in his car. Brian filled the car’s tanks with as much fuel as they could hold and loaded a couple of 5-gallon drums he had in the shed, before stowing them in the car as well. Brian wanted whoever did this to pay, and he knew if they were anywhere they would be south, in the remains of the US. He had heard from traders and merchants that there was a war raging down there. He hung his wife’s cross on the rearview mirror before his car roared to life. He floored the accelerator, peeling out onto the dirt road heading south.

Birthplace: Northern Canada
Religion: Nondenominational
Discriminations: None
Mental Disorders: Short Temper

[BOS13]

Originally posted by Benno the Mad

stand of the 300

Name: John Farrier
Age: 20, give or take 3 years. He looks about 16/17 and says he's 22. (he's 17, but he doesnt know that)
Nationality: Lets just say he's a local.
Sex: male
hieght: 5'6"
weight: 140lbs
Hair - he keeps it shaved close to his scalp, so you cant really tell it's black.
eyes - brown

Physical Description - John (or Jack, as he prefers to be called) is a small, weedy bloke. He greases off that sleazy vibe, and you get the feeling that he's not as stupid as he looks. He's definately stronger than he looks, and he doesnt look all that strong to start with. His small weedy frame can easily rip a shirt when he tenses. Think Bruce Lee, and now think Erkel, now make them one hybrid "man" (or monster).

Traits - He can get almost anywhere, squeeze himself into any gap, and do so quietly without being seen. He's also quite intelligent and quick, can use almost anything technical and thinks he can drive anythign and everything. He can also shoot a gun (handy skill, yeah?). His strength, (lack of)size, and quickness of hand have made sure he survived those times he couldnt hide.

Combat skills - Unarmed, mainly because people underestimate his strength and speed, not because of any special training. He can also fire a rifle with some success, but is of the school "if i pump out as many bullets as possible, i'm bound to hit someone" - he prefers machine guns.

Clothing:
Boots. A shade too big, because beggars cant be choosers.
Khaki pants. Really ragged downt he bottom, becuse he had to cut the legs for them to fit.
a damn dirty t-shirt of unknown color. it's faded to grey and dirty to black.

Weapons:
a knife. sharp, strong. Some enterprising previous owner had welded the blade to a pair of spiked knuckles, making this one lethal little dagger.
an M1 Garand, which he found during one of his "explorations"

Inventory:
200 bullets for the Garand
Some food. Enough for 2 days
2 bottles of water.
200 chips
it's all in a cloth sack that he has on a sort of sling.

Background:
Born in Aurora to an addict mother, and he never knew his father. After the first ten or so years, he thought his father could be any one of the men who gave his mother money or drugs... so quite a large population to choose from. He also learnt around this time that it was better to be able to hide from the guys that hit his mum than stand up to them. It earnt him several nasty beatings - one from the man, and one from his mum because the guy left without paying. After the first time, his mother began beating on him whenever a client beat on her. Was it some way to escape her own pain, or was it because she blamed him for her miserable life? who knew. All Jack knew was that he had to get out.

During this time in his life, he started exploring his city with great gusto - anything to get away from the beatings. One of these excursions saw him overlooking a firefight between some of the rival dug lords. It was his first introduction to death, and - not knowing any better - got the rifle that a man who was doing particularly well with, until he was butchered by a man with a sword who seemed to come from nowhere. Later on, he found out it was an M1 Garand. He started training with it in empty houses, and became quite adept at blasting holes through walls, and shooting rats. Although training with a hihg-powered rifle from the age of 10 (closer to 9. he doesnt know how old he is, or how long a year is) built up a lot of muscles very quickly.

When he was about 13, he ended up leaving. the last he head of his home was when his mother died the death of a junkie 2 weeks later. He started working for the local "police force" by fingering dealers and leading hit squads to gang hide-outs. A year or so later, he realised that it wasnt the police he was working for - there were none in this neck of the woods - but another, much more organised gang. They liked him, though, because without his help they would never have been able take over the town. They liked him so much that they took him out to the next town, and if it wasnt for his... prudent tactics (that would make the French envious) he would have died there, too. After searching the town, the hit men left, figuring him smart enough to not come back.

The town he is in, Dog Town (or New Denver.. depends on who you talk to.) is large, scary, and he's all alone.

Scraping together a living in Dog Town as a messenger, spy, and occasional hired gun for a few years, he started to hear of a military outfit that fought for the things he beleived in. Things that he grew up without, and things that he should never have had to witness. The Marines. Vowing to join, but without much experience outside of the city, he had to find some people that could navigate the wastes. No one, however, would take a child - even one that can shoot the cap off a bottle without breaking the neck - into the wastes. He had to wait another couple of years before he looked old enough for people to take him seriously. In that time, he had found himself a nice little knife. The blade was heavy, sharp, and the hilt had a spiked knuckle guard so you can punch people in the face with it and not hurt your fingers. Jack liked that in a weapon - something you could surprise people with. It sure surprised him, but he was quick enough to get out of the way before impact.

His search for someone to travel to the MCAGCC in 29 Palms continues, although his hopes of finding people crazy enough to go with him diminish every day.

One day is nearly ended his life - a group of "traders" decided that someone silly enough to want to be shot at by a group of strangers with a group of strangers was good slave material. They lured him out into the wastes under the guise of taking him to 29 Palms. However, while a city boy at heart, Jack knew enough that the Sun rose in the East and set in the West, and from this he knew that while 29 Palms was south-west of where they were, they were going north. Of course, waking up one morning in chains - along with about 2 dozen other people - also tipped him to the fact that all was not well, as it does. Fortunately, however, the convoy he was in was ambushed by (what he thought was) a radical anti-slavery movement. The attack was over as soon as it began. They were traversing through a slight gully, and then gunfire from the ridges cut down more than half the guards, and the other half decided to flee, only to be captured by several men in power suits. This is where he first had his taste of firing something larger than his Garand (which one of the slavers had stolen, along with his trench knife). Using a .50 cal browning to cut down one of the slavers who had hit the dirt as soon as the fight started, pretending to be dead, and was subsequently knocked out by one of the attackers. After the attack, which he thought had free'd them from their chains, the victors gatehred up the wounded and started doing something to their heads... it involved a lot of blood, and when they started on the slaves, Jack decided to get the hell out. He was still near the Browning, and nobody had payed him any attention yet. Firing up the gun, he cut down several of the brutal doctors before he got body-checked by a suit fo steel. They must have left him for dead, because when he awoke - sometime around midnight - they wer all gone, only leaving bodies and outmoded equipment. Luckily, his Garand and trench knife were considered outmoded equipment by the captors, and were in the pile of junk he was sifting through for goodies.

After making his way back to Dog Town, he decided to be a bit more shrewd about who to join up with on his journey south.

EDIT - i'd like to have this guy hook up with kenneth and the other bird in dog town. just for sake of its easier than to have me introduce another caravan or something.

and thor, you can use my writing for your books if you really want to. and when i have time i'll add more to my backstory.

[BOS13]

Originally posted by Zed

Hammer of thor

Lyle Oddson (son of Odd)

http://www.stgfc.com/pnp/Images/Zed.jpg

Age 20
Hair black
Eyes blue
Skin pale
Height 1.75m/5.12 feet
Weight 75kg

History: Lyle comes from a family of scientist’s, even before the bombs dropped his family was working in R&D. Lyle is no exception from this rule. His strong side is brought to life when dealing with technical and electrical equipment.

Lyle's combat skills however are somewhat poor. The only training with firearms he has comes from tinkering with pistols in the woods surrounding the settlement. Needless to say Lyle has never used any real armor during his life in the shelter-village.

From childhood Lyle had a strong father figure and when his father died he started working as a medical assistant in the falloutshelter’s still functioning surgery; learning basic doctor skills and some harder medical procedures, in search for some purpose in life.

Lyle has his whole life wanted to venture outside the village and see the outside world his father told him so much about, and has kept up his physics during village-life by skiing and hunting almost on a daily basis.

Clothing: Usual military cammo outfit.

Weapons: Browning 9mm pistol

Equipment:
1 set partly functioning self made night-vision goggles
1 D-Dact 4000 employees issue (passed on from his father) with electronic lock-pick ability and decoder.
1 set of Doctors supplies including some trauma packs
1 "in the field" surgery book
1 Sun Tzu art of war holodisk.
1 set of assorted tools (only the very basic for maintaining guns and picking none-electronic locks).

Fields of proficiency:
Medicine
Science
Mechanics
Computer technology
Chemistry
Lockpicking and trap-disarming

ATTITUDE:
Optimistic outlook on life even though day to day life is confined to a radiated frozen hellhole of ice and snow.