The Blight (ALWAYS accepting)

[Uncultured]

CS


Given Name




-




Nicknames/Aliases




-




Age

-




Facial Appearance

(Delete this long ass sentence and insert IMG here, Picture/Realistic drawings only, no anime unless very detailed in style)




Body Appearance

(If necessery, if not, delete this entry, IMG rules still apply)

Equipment/Armor/Clothing Style




Faction(s)

Raider/NSF/Wanderer/Red Mask




Personality




(2+ Paragraphs)




Bio/History




(2+ Paragraphs)




Additional Character Traits/Flaws




(Try to go for three of each, more is better)

​

 

[DrCompton]

CS


Given Name


-Dwayne Compton





Nicknames/Aliases


-Doc


-D





Age


-28





Facial Appearance

Body Appearance- 5'8 170lbs

Spoiler

Instead of "Rev10" The suit has "Preventative Medicine" spray painted on the front


Faction(s)


NSF


Personality


Out in the field, Dwayne is a very calm, and collect person. In situations that go from bad to worse he has his mind focused on the job. He is quiet and an observer, he generally always watches the people and the environment that surrounds him. He is quick to alter a plan if it means survival for him and the men that are around im


In the safety of the walls, Dwayne is more likable and very friendly. He is loyal to his friends, and squad mates, especially if they've spilled blood with him. He is quick witted and sarcastic, and he loves a good argument and will often push the buttons of people around him to get a reaction from them


Bio/History


Dwayne thought he was one of the good guys with the NSF, wasn't their cause noble? To reunite humanity under a single government, with a single purpose to survive? He had followed the orders blindly, without question. As a medic for the foot soldiers, Dwayne quickly made a name for himself by running into dangerous situations and under fire to pull the injured from the field of fire. After a year as a Medic, a couple of promotions, and a burned face, Dwayne was given his Mech, which he named "Eliza" for his dead sister. As a Walker, Dwayne was generally the point man, willing to risk himself and his Mech to keep the soldiers behind him safe.


When his unit came across a small town far north of Pleasanton that refused to fall under the rule of the NSF they had orders to flatten the town. Before this hadn't been an issue for Dwayne because there was always some sort of Militia that had fought back, and once they killed the Militia the town generally fell under the rule of the NSF. When they reported back there was no hostile force to eliminate, the order came back.


"Flatten them all then. They'll be an example"





Dwayne hesitated, and watched as the other mechs and foot soldiers went into the town and burned it to the ground, lining up civilians and executing them. Dwayne's unit was caught in a divide that quickly erupted into a small civil war. By the skirmish was over, Dwayne no longer had a family with the NSF. He made his way south and found Pleasanton.


Additional Character Traits/Flaws


+Loyal


+Smart


+Friendly


+/- Sarcastic


+/- Trusting


-/+ Quiet


-Functioning Alcoholic


-Suffers PTSD, and doesn't cope well


-Burned face, partially blind in Left Eye





(I dont think I missed anything, let me know if I did.)

 

[ryanpk200]

CS


Given Name


Travis Lawson





Nicknames/Aliases


Drifter


Lockdown


Bryan Thomas


Age


48


Facial Appearance

Body appearance

Advanced RIG Suit


(Counts for body/armor)


Equipment/Armor/Clothing Style

M-98 Black Widow sniper rifle

M-12 Locust SMG (duel wielded)


Grappling hook


Has access to large explosives stockpile. (sniper/engineer)


Faction


Raider





Personality


Life on the streets was tough. He learned to look after himself first and others second. Most of the time he was alone and had few friends.


Living a mostly solo life factor a ton into his career as a sniper. He cold, calculating, and ruthless. Falling in love with Abby soften him abit but he'll still knock you into next weak. Kills bandits in the name of Abby.





Bio/History


Travis parents died when he was young. He was pushed on to the streets and learned to live the hard way. Travis joined the army when he reached 20.


He learned he had a thing for explosives and was proficient in long distance marksmanship.


When he turned 25 he lost his hand and severely injured several soldiers in his unit. Travis was dishonorably discharged from the military and went back to civilian life. He fell in love with Abby Armstrong. Advancing prosthetics replaced his hand. Then the Blight hit the Earth.


His training got him and Abby through the Blight. He lost Abby to a group of bandits and massacred the whole group. He found a railgun on one of the bandits and took some of the bandits armor and went off the explor the land later coming across Pleasanton.


Additional Character Traits/Flaws


+Quiet


+always planning


+bit of a ice king


+quick to anger

 

[Venus]

Given Name

Dr Malrun

Nicknames/Aliases

"Dr Blast It"


"Tech Head"


"The Old Reaper"

Age

50

Facial Appearance

He has never been seen without his Mask off.

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Body Appearance

Malrun is a Rather Slim but Incredibly tall Imposing figure, Standing at a staggering height of 6'6Ft.

Equipment

^ (Shoulder Cannon)

Faction

Raider


He Functions as a Sort of Combat Engineer/ Scientist among the Raiders.


He also claims to have worked for the NSF.


He Usually fights from a Distance peppering enemies with his Railgun Rifle while his Drones and Turrets whittle them down, allowing his Automatic Shoulder gun to handle anyone who gets too close.

Personality

Malrun comes off as a Ingenious but detached figure who is known to keep quiet most of the time and ponder a variety of circumstances in peace contemplating deeply. However when one does manage to talk to him he comes off as an incredibly cold and jaded figure who implies that he has seen too much in this world. Though this does not make it impossible to befriend him , As once his trust is earned he will serve like a zealot til the end. He also has a rather Cynical view on humanity and is sceptical of new people.

Bio/History

Much of his History is unknown however what is Known is that before he worked with the Raiders he was once an NSF Engineer who had been forced to kill Multiple innocence and watched the Brutality enhance even further until he realised they were no better than the bloody Reavers. He then turned on his Company at the dead of Night, Killing them all and destroying all evidence of they're very existence however he met resistance from the Commander and was forced to do battle.


After leaving the Company he came to the ever so lovely hell hole of Pleaston, beginning to use his experience of Combat and engineering to help aid the city soon acquiring a Rank among the Raiders.

Additional Character Traits/Flaws

He is hard to Socialize with


He Prefers working alone.

​

 

[LadyMatsudai]

Given Name

Sasha Harrow Nejem

Nicknames/Aliases

Doc/Butcher

Age




28

Facial Appearance

(Face Claim: Charlize Theron)




Affiliation

Wanderer




Occupation

Physician




Body Appearance

Sasha stands at the average woman's height of 5 feet and 4 inches, her body having broader shoulders and a slightly muscular build. She possesses a few smaller scars on her arms, right leg, and stomach and a deeper gash across her whole back from the left shoulder blade down to the right hip. She has longer blonde hair that she usually pulls back away from her face in a messy bun or in a ponytail. A tattoo on her right bicep saying the names 'Jamil and Jinan' for the names of her son and husband that she lost to Reavers a year before finding her way to Pleasanton in Arabic.

Equipment/Armor/Clothing Style

(common clothing for Sasha while she is working)

(with a hood, similar clothing is what she wears when she wanders)

Weapons: Sasha carries always with her two long daggers attached to her sides and a simple pistol. Any other occasion where she needs to fight, she uses her bare hands and her skills of martial arts.

Personality

Before the loss of her son and husband, Sasha was a happy go lucky young woman, eager to explore and see what the barren world still had to offer. On her adventures with her husband and the caravan they were a part of, they would come across old ruins of cities and discover little treasures here and there of the world of old. After the incident, Sasha's personality grew dark, she was reclusive and quiet, hardly speaking to anyone unless she thought it was necessary. Through it all, she is focused and determined to know everything she can about medicine and the human body, making sure she knows everything she needs to do to save a life from the Reavers and completely destroy the enemy.

With her new chapter starting in Pleasanton, Sasha slowly grew to come to care about others in the city, finally calling it her new home after wandering for a year in the barren wasteland of the world after she lost her own family. She faces conflicts head on and does not back down to any challenge, her iron will only strengthened after the tragedy she experienced. Don't even think about crossing her...there is a very distinct line between her good and her bad side and if you cross her, you may never get through to the other side.

Bio/History

Born and raised in a trading caravan, Sasha was the only child of a physician father and a nurse mother, both who were vital members of the caravan. Often people would come and go from the caravan and with that, patients would arrive at their tent regularly with wounds and illnesses ranging from mild to the most severe. With her parents to teach her, Sasha quickly learned the art of the trade, capable of mending some of the patients herself by the time she was fifteen. At 27, still traveling with her company, Sasha met and fell in love with her future husband Jamil, a man from Saudi Arabia who traveled with his family and some friends around the globe for any sort of sanctuary. The two met and soon fell in love, marrying before leaving her family's caravan to travel with another. Soon, Sasha became pregnant and gave birth to their only son, Jinan, starting out their new lives with a brand new family and a great outlook on their future.

Sadly, the bright future came to an abrupt halt one year later as Reavers one night attacked the caravan, slaughtering everyone in sight including Sasha's own family. Losing her mind, Sasha somehow grabbed two daggers out of nowhere and killed every single Reaver in the scouting party, left alone in the middle of a field of blood. For one year, Sasha wandered the wastelands of the world alone, taking everything she needed and never gave anything a second thought, praying that the deserts would consume her to allow her to join her family once more. Late one night, Sasha found herself approaching a valley, a band of Raiders from Pleasanton were settling down for the night after some scouting before retiring. Just over the hill, there was a large scouting party of Reavers inching closer and closer to the camp. Without warning, Sasha slipped into the shadows before making her way to the party, killing every Reaver in site. The Raiders heard the noise and started to rush towards the source before they found Sasha, covered in Reaver blood standing among a field of bodies. Her eyes clouded and dark with a raw anger as the Raiders carefully subdued her, chaining her before beginning to make their way back to Pleasanton, where Sasha's newest chapter begins...

Additional Character Traits/Flaws

Traits: Worldly, Curious, Intelligent

Flaws: Suffers from nightmares commonly about the night of the raid, Fairly quiet with interacting with others she does not know, Tries to keep herself emotionally distant from everything and everyone​

 

[Uncultured]

Given Name




Jacinto Khasan




Nicknames/Aliases




Some subordinates call him by rank (Lieutenant/LT)​

​

Age




34​

​

Facial Appearance

​

​

Body Appearance




Jacinto stands at about five feet eleven inches tall. Given his height, his weight (191 lbs) might give you the impression that he is out of shape, yet this would be a mistaken assumption. Although he isn't rippling with cords of muscle, under a slight layer of fat is a mesh of strong muscles and ligaments, strengthened by daily training and activity. He has several scars on his body from his ten year stint with the Raiders, the courtesy of several encounters with bandits and aggressive NSF forces.




Equipment/Armor/Clothing Style

1. Xeno Magpro Railgun (Anti armor/personnel)

2. LP4 Adjustable Machine Pistol

3. LB5 Street Sweeper

Other/Misc

-Jump booster (adds four or five feet of vertical jump, can't be used in quick succession/must recharge)

-Has an electronic warfare package hardwired into his suits system, allowing him to hack open systems

-Carries several grenades/charges




Faction(s)




Raider​

​

Personality




Jacinto is a person who fits the mold placed for him. Internally he is a kind caring individual who would give a person the shirt off his back, but the expectations put on him by the world and his station have dampened his instinctual kindness. Despite his inner kindness, his outer persona is that of a man who is firmly entrenched into his job and his position in the community. As an officer within the Raiders he cannot show any weakness whatsoever when it comes to any matter and as a result he is constantly attempting to reaffirm the public persona that he has created, that of a hard warrior with little compassion for other people.

He isn't extremely extroverted nor very introverted, instead, he finds himself in the middle ground of the two, enjoying solitude and reflection and public events and socializing with new people. He attempts to find a happy medium between the two but more often than not he is either too alone or two entrenched within people.

He is a man of hard work and dedication, spending his off hours honing himself at the firing range and in the gym. He does these things in order to set the best example possible for everyone who relies on him, from the children running through the streets to the city militia to his fellow Raiders. Due to his need to take charge and set examples for others, he can sometimes come across as an attention seeker and an arrogant/cocky person. This isn't the case with him though, his efforts are pure in nature and it's never his intention to put others down, although it rarely matters to some people throughout the city who detest him for his perceived arrogance.

​

Bio/History

​

Unlike many people who live in the world, Jacinto is a man who has witnessed life both before and after the blight. At his age (34) he has witnessed both the apex of mankind and it's hard fall to it's current state. His origins are in a world of comfort and content and it is his knowledge of what could be that drives him to create a better world. Jacinto wasn't born into poverty or left on the curb in front of an orphanage, he wasn't a prodigy and he never was the kind to draw any special attention. No, he was a very average person from an average family in Ohio with a future in some bland pursuit that would inevitably lead to a white picket fence and a dog or two. He was, for all intensive purposes, your average white bread american kid.

This all changed however, when he turned eight years old. One day after his birthday celebration, the blight was first reported in the rice fields of Japan. After a year, most crops on earth were dead, after five years, half of humanity had died including Jacinto's mother and one of his siblings. If all wasn't bad enough, the Reavers came next and the young Jacinto (age 15) witnessed the first waves of the Reaver hordes as they tore through his town, destroying everyone and everything in their path.

The young Jacinto however, had hidden within a crawlspace in his home and as the Reavers came and went he hid, and continued to hide for two days, shocked and confused after witnessing the deaths of his family from the cracks in the ventilation system he had hidden within. The only reason he dared to leave the crawlspace was when he heard human voices, the voices of soldiers who would eventually become the NSF.

He was taken in by the NSF as a ward and lived within one of their offshore bases for half a decade. The NSF however, viewed him as little more than a future recruit and as soon as he came of age he was trained as a soldier while working as a deckhand on the massive floating city. After a few years of physical and mental training he was deployed into the field with an airborne unit in order to pacify a rebellion in a conquered city. However the helicopter they were being transported in was short down en route, and Jacinto, against all odds, was the only survivor of the crash.

He began to wander through the wasteland, lost, confused and hopeless, knowing not where he was nor how to return home. It was then when he found the city of Pleasanton. Once in the city, using his training and mental aptitude, he joined the Raiders, and after a decade of service he has become one of the most respected members of the elite unit.

​

Additional Character Traits/Flaws

​

Positive Traits

-A good mind for strategy, this one has

-Great combatant

-Compassionate




Flaws

-Too forgiving/naive

-Obsessed with his work/persona

-Has mid level PTSD​

 

[Encreedem]

Given Name


Daniel Astron


Nicknames/Aliases


"Danny"


(I'm not good with nicknames.)


Age


25


Appearance

Spoiler

Height: 5'5"/165cm


Weight: 125lbs/57kg


(The metric numbers are for myself.)


Equipment/Clothing

Weapons


His equipment constantly changes. He takes whatever he can acquire or build but as of right now it's the following:


Pulse Gun (see "Appearance")

+ a variety of bolts (e.g. normal or self-made exploding, incinerating and EMP bolts).

Faction


Wanderer


Personality


Daniel is a confirmed pessimist. He always expects the worst to happen and, more often than not, this behavior has saved his life. This has also led to a permanent frown buried into his face, even when he's not angry. Due to lots of bad experience with all sorts of people, saying that he is slow to trust others would be an underestimation. If he works with another person or group then probably because he thinks it will benefit him in some way.


He has a ruthless personality and is usually willing to use violence in order to reach his goals. When something doesn't work out the way he wants, he will get angry.


Despite all that, he thinks before he acts, knowing that an emotional outburst in the wastelands could end your life very quickly. Also, Daniel is eager for knowledge. He values books, computers and databases almost as much as food and water.


In general, he prefers to work with intelligent people and use less intelligent ones to his advantage.


Bio/History


Daniel grew up in a small village. It was next to some mountains and had a water source, thus it was easy to defend against reavers and bandits, even if they were besieged for multiple days. Most of the village's profits came from exporting water and helping other settlements by repairing their machines, tools and weapons.


Daniel wanted help and expand his family's business and therefore, in addition to tools and machines, learned a lot about computer systems.


Life wasn't easy but he knew that it could be a lot worse. Until the age of 16, he helped his village by maintaining and improving the village's defense systems. After that, he unfortunately had to experience how bad life could really become:


One day, while he was maintaining one of the wall's turrets, he made a mistake and caused a short circuit. This resulted in a complete outage, causing the village to be overrun with reavers within minutes. Instead of fighting them, Daniel fled using a self-built motorcycle. His bad luck continued when it simply broke down after a mile, leaving him stranded in the middle of nowhere.


Days passed until someone finally found him: A group of wanderers and mercenaries that was on its way to his former home. They explained that they travel from village to village to offer their services. They were displeased to hear that it didn't exist anymore but also didn't want to leave a boy alone in the wasteland and agreed to bring him to the next village. As they traveled, Daniel learned that their group consisted not only of mercenaries but also of engineers, a doctor and even a thief who specialized in picking locks. When they arrived at the village, they went straight to work.


Interested in their work, Daniel followed them around. He noticed that the village had lots of safes whose owners died long ago. Neither the engineers nor the thief were able to open most of them. He decided to try his luck on one with an electronic lock. Surprisingly enough, after an hour he managed to open it. The safe was empty but the group that rescued him was interested in his skills and decided to let him join their group. From this day on he also traveled through the wasteland, repairing machines and computers and opening saves.


For years the group traveled to villages and cities and even bandit camps, where Daniel's skills were especially popular. In the course of time, he also learned a lot from the other group members. Working with bandits certainly wasn't risk-free, and more than once the group survived by the skin of their teeth. Five years after Daniel's village got overrun, his life took another turn for the worse: While trying to open an especially secure vault door, a dispute has broken out. He didn't understand what was going on and shortly after, a firefight broke out between two bandit groups, with his group in the middle. Most were killed within minutes and Daniel fled into the vault. Once inside, he realized that the dispute was about the vaults contents: Tons of weapons, ammunition and explosives. Blinded by his rage about the sudden death of his group, he lit the whole place on fire and escaped through a secret exit. He escaped just in time to see the bandit camp vanish in a huge explosion.


From this day on he tried to settle down but each time his new home was in danger of being raided or overrun, he traveled to a new one. Knowing that it wasn't easy to survive alone in the wasteland, he started getting more and more ruthless. Whenever someone threatened him or refused to recompense his services he would resort to very convincing methods, like reprogramming a village's defense systems or rigging it with explosives.


After years of helping people and running from bandits as well as reavers, he heard of a city called Pleasanton that was supposed to be near the village that he resided in at that time. He expected it to be the same as the other cities he visited but with more potential loot, hence he set foot there.


Positive Traits

• He's intelligent and a quick learner.
  
• He thinks before he acts.
  
• Despite his negative traits, he likes to work in teams.
  

Negative Traits

• He likes to use violence if it solves a problem quickly.
  
• Ruthless: He doesn't care about ethics.
  
• Not loyal: If a group is likely to die, he will probably abandon it.
  

 

[Cathedra]

Given Name

Natalia Lane Beecher




Nicknames/Aliases

Catalyst

Tripwire




Age

27




Facial Appearance

Body Appearance

A willowy female constructed from long legs and a trim waistline, Natalia easily finds herself standing in at roughly five feet six inches in height. Although her build is deceptively slender, the blonde’s body has been conditioned over the years by her lifestyle. Her limbs are lined with compact muscles and barely an ounce of fat finds purchase on her form – partially resulting from her limited diet, partially from her overly active lifestyle. She has no distinctive markings on her body aside from an assortment of scars littering the surface of her skin, though her uncharacteristically – but natural – bright hair tends to draw attention to her person more than anything else.

Equipment/Armor/Clothing Style

Weapons: Natalia carries a concealed metal truncheon strapped to her torso and three small knives on the inside of her left boot. While she harbors no reservations towards hand-to-hand combat, having learned to fight from a young age, the blonde also possess an old Mk. IX Sniper Rifle. The self-refurbished weapon is often seen slung over her back and rarely used. In fact, although the gun is still capable of shooting, Natalia is still in the process of locating the last few pieces she needs to complete its modification. In addition to her gun, the blonde has also crafted a number of hand-held explosives designed less towards the explosion aspect than they are towards the projection of shrapnel.




Faction(s)

Wanderer




Personality

Natalia isn’t the kind of person that can be easily categorized in a few concise words, her personality harboring far too many faucets to conform to any singular niche. By nature she is an explorer, the kind of person who visualizes the world according to what her hands and eyes teach her rather than simply accepting something by word of mouth. However, the blonde is never one to pass up the chance to gain new knowledge, even if said intelligence is obtained indirectly through listening to others. By and by, the majority of her decisions stem from her innate curiosity and the knowledge it has garnered her over the years. That, and the simple fact that she strives to break free from the norm.

Nonetheless, the blonde operates on a sense of direct fairness and, though she may seem calm and loyal for a while, is prone to volatile explosions of repressed energy and emotions. Truth be told, Natalia’s “do unto others” attitude ensures that she is prone to taking issues too far without caring for the consequences. After all, any reaction – be it good or bad – is fair play in her book. While she tends lives in the moment, refusing to contemplate too far into the future for fear of what she may find, the blonde is prone to moments of internal contemplation. Rare as they are, that is. All in all, Natalia is exceedingly stubborn, the kind of woman who knows what she wants and harbors no reservations about getting her hands dirty to get it done.




Bio/History

A mere infant in the wake of the Reaver outbreak, Natalia was raised under the guidance of her older brothers and father, her mother, an ailing woman in her mid-thirties, having died two years after her birth. For the first twelve years of her life the blonde and her family traveled amongst a small caravan of Wanders, learning what they could about survival and generally causing mischief. While those times were spent in relative ease given the circumstances – with Reavers hunting her as though she was the last burger in existence, one could never doubt the dangers of the situation - her father was a recluse by nature, and the trying times he found himself living in only served to increase his innate distrustfulness of others. As such, it was no real surprise when he removed his family from the caravan and struck out on his own, children ever so faithfully in tow.

Thankfully the five Wanderers had gained enough knowledge from their time with the caravan to survive by their own means, and many a day was spent scavenging the countryside for anything that they could use to their advantage. Life was never easy of course, but Natalia would never have wanted it any other way. But nothing ever lasts, and by the time Natalia reached the tender age of fifteen her father had fallen fatally ill. On their own as they were and lacking any form of medical knowledge aside from the rudimentary, the three siblings found themselves watching with muted horror as their mentor withered away to nothing. Unwilling to leave the man’s body at the mercy of nature as they were, Natalia and her brothers honored their father's death by burning his remains and erecting a simple marker in his memory. They did not stay long, however, venturing out on their own shortly after the affair.

It didn’t take long for the siblings to find another caravan, and soon they were once more traveling surrounded by others of their type. But the life with their father was never far from their minds, the desire for freedom never blocked from their hearts. After only a few short months the siblings struck out on their own once more. In fact, the next ten years of Natalia’s life would be spent in similar fashion, her brothers and her hopping from caravan to caravan when life on their own became too much to bear. Nonetheless, it was only a matter of time before the siblings themselves went on their own separate ways.

The first to leave was Natalia’s second oldest brother, Cameron, who had fallen in love with one of the women in a caravan they had been staying with. Todd, who had been killed while scavenging, was the next, and last, to go. Left on her lonesome for the first time in her life, a twenty five year old Natalia determined to put everything she had learned over the years to the test by venturing out on her own. After all, it wasn’t as though she had anything left to loose. But Natalia had never been a true recluse, and the next two years saw her in near constant contact with other groups of Wanderers if only for the sake of sharing knowledge. Along the way she heard talk of Pleasanton, a city famed for its unique and efficient infrastructure, and deemed it interesting enough for her perusal. As such, Natalia has struck out to determine whether or not the reality matched the rumors. …And maybe uncover a few secrets along the way.




Additional Character Traits/Flaws

Positive Traits:

Easy-going: Natalia rarely finds herself stressed out over issues, much rather preferring to go with the flow. However, her inclination towards stubbornness can sometimes offset this trait.

Innovative: She tends to utilize whatever she can find to her advantage, often crafting one of the many inventions her mind has developed over the years.

Inquisitive: The blonde has a natural inclination towards learning anything and everything she can, marking her as an individual with a wide arsenal of facts and knowledge to her name.

Flaws:

Easily Bored: If her mind is not constantly engaged, Natalia is prone to loosing focus and interest, making any form of long term commitment questionable.

Insensitive: More inclined towards logic than empathy, she often finds herself unable to meet people “half way” without saying or doing something wrong first.

Risky Behavior: In tune with her tendency towards boredom, Natalia has been known to push the boundaries a bit too far if only to incite some fun.​

 

[Jack Dennings]

CS ((WIP))

Given Name

-Vinicius Thule




Nicknames/Aliases

Nickname: Vini

Alias: "Red" Robert Clark




Age

28




Facial Appearance

​

Spoiler

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Body Appearance






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Equipment/Armor/Clothing Style








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<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/Handgun.jpg.52283487565310ace3b445b95f084222.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51219" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/Handgun.jpg.52283487565310ace3b445b95f084222.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

Spoiler

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c2567772b_Minigun2.jpg.fc5692f2e939831ff4cbf0a3a34a9028.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51222" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c2567772b_Minigun2.jpg.fc5692f2e939831ff4cbf0a3a34a9028.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

Spoiler

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c2568363c_GrenadeLauncher2.jpg.0db89aa730ed537a692c844edf8daf59.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51224" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c2568363c_GrenadeLauncher2.jpg.0db89aa730ed537a692c844edf8daf59.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>







<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c25689432_Rifle2.jpg.3921848683e906ed7078b7045cc8af39.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51225" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c25689432_Rifle2.jpg.3921848683e906ed7078b7045cc8af39.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>





<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c256a8bf0_GaussRifle.jpg.3b31737abf06932c53fde7bd7625bff0.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51233" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c256a8bf0_GaussRifle.jpg.3b31737abf06932c53fde7bd7625bff0.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

Faction(s)

-Ex NSF

Personality


(2+ Paragraphs)

Vini is a calculating man, but by no means a heartless one. He simply believes that the ends justify the means, and sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the greater. As such, he will take... appropriate actions to advance said greater good, despite the suffering they may inflict in the short run.


Vini is loyal to those he deems deserve his loyalty, though weary of even his closest friends. He can be a bit cynical, and is by no means a flowery person, but he isn't cruel or spiteful. He prefers not to be the center of attention, as it is easier to act when no one knows you are a player.

Bio/History


(2+ Paragraphs)

​

Vini was born to two politicians in the old world government, two years before the blight began. He never experienced the horror and chaos of it's beginning, as his family was rushed away to a secure government facility he only knew at Bunker 3. It's clean white walls and sparkling floors shielded him from the outside- as he played with his toys and watched cartoons thousands died. He was educated and trained as a social elite, and only heard of the blight in passing, as if it was only something a couple people experienced, and there was not much to be done about it.


Things changed when Vini was twelve, and the Reavers began to emerge. He would here a strange, distant tapping, muffled shouts, and loud rumblings during his studies. Unbeknownst to Vini, on the surface the facility was under attack. His parents would always tell him it was the thunder, or rain, but he quickly figured out something was going. He never knew what.


Six months later, he heard the same tapping. But it came closer. It became louder. Shouts turned into screams, and the noise was clearly gunshots, loudly rattling and deafening ears in the close quarters of the NSF facility. He was rushed through a side passage he had never seen before, and ended up in a large hanger bay with a force of mechs. The door adjacent to him was being pounded upon, and a dozen guards sat vigilant at it's entrance. Vini was squeezed into a cramped and confusing mech with two other children and a pilot, while his parents were handed guns as there was no more room. The mechs were all filled with children. The Reavers poured through shortly after, the mechs holding them off for a time, and slowly retreating through the hanger doors. He never saw what happened to his parents, but he doubts they survived. In the last moments hundreds of reavers were seen flooding the hanger, only held back by the immense force of a dozen mechs.


Vini ended up in another NSF facility, this one a military base above ground. He was no long treated kindly, or sheltered from the harsh reality, but was expected to join up and serve, or die in the wastes. He chose the former. He was trained, learning a large degree of skills, ranging from piloting, to marksmanship, to camping. During this time, he rose in rank to own his own mech, and served loyally.


As the years went by, the NSF began to become more and more extreme, more violent, and the ends no longer justified the means. Vini was twenty-five when he deserted, running with a few close friends and two mechs during a mission. They NSF didn't take kindly to this, and for the next two years they hunted down Vini and his friends, slowly killing them off. Now only Vini remains, his mech damaged from a recent attack. He is well armed, but low on supplies and cash. Now wielding the persona of Robert Clark, he has made his way to the city...

Additional Character Traits/Flaws


(Try to go for three of each, more is better)

​

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c25670c20_Minigun2.jpg.d0b24ea797527b1f8b240e7924f48a4a.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51221" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c25670c20_Minigun2.jpg.d0b24ea797527b1f8b240e7924f48a4a.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p><p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c2567daab_Minigun3.jpg.3efb3d2fed50156e6f0ec840cecd8ca9.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51223" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c2567daab_Minigun3.jpg.3efb3d2fed50156e6f0ec840cecd8ca9.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

 

[The Velveteen Rabbit]

Katherine "Kat" Carter

Nicknames/Aliases


Trix/Cateye/Techy/"Jackie Chan"/Robo


She mostly prefers to be called Kat.

Age


28 years old




Body Appearance

Kat is a little above average for the height of a woman, standing at 5'10". Her build is slim and petite but lined with strong muscle. Her hair is a dark chocolate brown that reaches down below her shoulder blades in loose waves. Kat has a series of tattoos inked across her back that consists of beautifully designed leaves, branches, and flowers. It is, however, hidden underneath her armor and clothes.

Equipment/Armor/Clothing Style

Kat's armor is unique from many in different ways. There are special sensors on the inside of the helmet that alert her of foreshadowing attacks and movement. It also has night vision equipped manually. The armor in general was built for stealth, making it lighter and easier to move in. There is a cloak she wears over this armor to conceal herself better. The armor is hardwired to give her the ability to hack into devices by using a special data chip encrypted inside of the armor itself. She can transfer, steal, or simply look for data using the chip as a guide.


Instead of using guns, Kat finds herself using her twin katanas more often, hence the nickname "Jackie Chan". They are simple with no modernized enhancements to there performances. But she has a sniper rifle equipped safely on her back as well.

Faction(s)


Had previously been in the Raiders faction - presently is a wanderer




Personality

Sarcastic, witty, and cunning; Kat is a woman full of strong determination. Her patience is legendary in most cases, and she is easily described as outgoing. Kat is naturally a kind person, but she can be highly aggressive in combat, and is stubborn when need be. Her intelligence is off the charts and her thinking is analytic. Kat thinks over everything before she acts, especially in a risky or dangerous situation.


Kat is described as an inspired tactician and an exemplary combatant, but also a brilliant crypt-analyst and a hacker; allegedly, there has not been a system yet that she had been unable to crack. She has a habit of occasionally investigating classified Intel more than anything else. Her ability to acquire and digest information has been described as "supernatural"; more than once, she had been able to read a situation, working with information many others would find overly limited.



Bio/History

Kat was born into a world of hidden closures and monsters. Her life revolved around hiding in the shadows and protecting the ones you love. It became a lifestyle for her. Traveling in a small group of three, her mother and father kept Kat safe. They were former soldiers, making their chances of survival greater. For many years, Kat watched her parents grow hopeless by the day. They're bones had begun to grow brittle, and the dust had made a permanent home on their skin. She was too young at the time to understand what they were feeling.


The day Kat's father killed himself was the day her mother finally lost hope. Kat was only six at the time. Over the next few months, her mother began to lose her sanity. Kat wanted to help her, but didn't know how. Her mother willingly threw herself into a group of Reavers a few weeks later. Kat awoke the next morning to a pile of remains and a piece of her mother's clothing stuck to the bloody pavement.


6 year old Kat wandered the world by herself for many years. It wasn't until she followed the sound of gunshots that her life had finally changed. A group of Raiders found her and took her in. She grew up with them and trained with them until she was 25. But Kat made the decision to return to her wandering days a year later. She left them to their affairs and continues to wander the hospitable ruins.



Positive traits


-She never seems to lose focus and is always very persistent


-Kat is outgoing, and isn't one to argue unless she truly thinks something isn't right


-She is insanely patient. Kat can wait in a single spot for hours or even days and not question her motives

Negative traits

-She can be highly stubborn at times when her mind is set on something. Kat will not allow another to question the way she does things, especially when it revolves around combat or risky decisions


-A little too independent, Kat finds it hard to work in groups, since she spent most of her life on her own


-Even though she has a patient attitude, it doesn't excuse the fact Kat has a nasty temper when angered
​

 

[Yang Xiao Long]

Given Name

Fritz Rivan

Nicknames/Aliases

The Spaceman, Gold-2 (By some old friends), Jackson Soyuz, Sarge.

Age

40 Something

Facial Appearance

Armor/Clothing


Street Clothes

Jackson wears these clothes around town, it's nothing major.

Combat Armor

This is Jackson's combat armor, it may not look like it but his mask has an advanced sensor suite. This armor is also semi-powered making in vulnerable to EMP, it is also heavy making stealth hard.

Un-powered/Assault Tactical Gear

Jackson keeps a set of un-powered tactical gear for missions involving stealth. This gear includes a chest holster, rappelling gear, a wrist cradle for ammunition, and a head set.




Spacesuit

Jackson's Spacesuit has been retrofitted to include an advanced sensor suite and ballistic plating, although it will most likely never be worn again.




Equipment



​

Spoiler

Strange assault rifle found in the waste land, can create a "homing tag" which self guided ammunition will follow relentlessly.

A silenced PDW,with Gauss coils, Capable of firing without Gauss assist allowing the weapon to be used under EMP.

Semi automatic pistol. Fires 12.7 x 40mm Armor Piercing ammunition. The M6G is effective against modern armor even without Gauss or Rail assist.

Cookable flash-bang grenade the longer it's cooked the more flashes it produces, when cooked long enough it causes an EMP.

Plastic explosive, Shapable, deadly.

Faction

Raider

NSF Deserter (Not Mech Trained)

Personality

Jackson has a very friendly exterior for a raider, he can often be found drinking in the Pub, laughing, joking, and playing a game of cards. On the inside Jackson is a bit more contested, due to the memories of fallen squad mates both before and after the Blight.

Jackson can be found hanging out with just about anyone including raiders, NSF Deserters, Red Masks, and wanderers. Jackson has a lot of camaraderie, and will leave no man behind. Jackson also may look to the sky at night and say something cryptic such as "If the NSF find 2-8 we're all dead." Jackson suffers from mild PTSD and will spout out lines of letters and numbers at times, or yell something about gold.

Bio/History

Fritz, or as he is mostly known by these days Jackson was born before the Blight. Jackson quickly advanced in high school and joined the armed forces at afterwards. As a skilled engineer, the army put him on a project simply called Alpha-2-5b. This project involved the creation of 32 Orbital weapon platforms. When the Blight struck the NSF planed on using the platforms to secure the U.S's dominance. The NSF failed when Jackson and the other 6 members of gold team took command of the platform they were assigned to and destroyed the remaining platforms using it's weapons.

After a "hectic" landing in Arizona Jackson and the rest of gold team split up. At this point it was four years after the landing, and Jackson had been traveling for a while when he came across a group of people. These people he now knows were Reavers, his first encounter still haunts him today. Shortly after his first encounter he found Pleasanton, changed his name, and helped train the Raiders.

Jackson is now a Sergeant Major, and works with the capsule scientists from time to time. Jackson also brought a card game to Pleasanton called Pazaak, and holds the title of the Pazaak master.

Additional Character Traits/Flaws

Trait: Jackson has a strong sense of camaraderie, and refuses to leave a man behind.

Trait: Jackson is smart and quick thinking.

Trait: Jackson knows a lot of people in the city.

Trait: Knows how to inspire men, think of SGT. Johnson from halo.

Trait: Training in S.R.U, S.W.A.T, and special forces tactics from before the blight.

Flaw: Jackson has PTSD, and feels as if the Deaths of two of the members of gold team is his fault.

Flaw: Jackson and the rest of Gold team are in the top five of the NSF's most wanted list.

Flaw: Jackson has a "minor" gambling problem.

Flaw: Jackson has a "slight" drinking problem.

 

[Xillia]

Given Name


Christina Fox





Nicknames/Aliases


The "" Reaper





Age


21


Facial Appearance

Spoiler

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c258913a9_img-thing(1).jpg.451f6b817d4a3ea0f5ba881211bdcca2.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51325" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c258913a9_img-thing(1).jpg.451f6b817d4a3ea0f5ba881211bdcca2.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


"Hey, we'll make it through this, they're the ones that are going to die."


Equipment/Armor/Clothing Style





<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/1f2b624aed6c2f7faa01a582b89ebf44.jpg.f7157e8fd94b1d6b75524e8a8d1c3aaa.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51327" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/1f2b624aed6c2f7faa01a582b89ebf44.jpg.f7157e8fd94b1d6b75524e8a8d1c3aaa.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>





<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/noghost-female-concept1v2-colorwork-hyacinthgames-konstantinosskenteridis.jpg.016c3794c74ef94a7aebff37e0496500.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51328" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/noghost-female-concept1v2-colorwork-hyacinthgames-konstantinosskenteridis.jpg.016c3794c74ef94a7aebff37e0496500.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>










<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/SidkitTrigunVashGun.jpg.0db2fe78742fb8eb7da61df02f0a914a.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51331" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/SidkitTrigunVashGun.jpg.0db2fe78742fb8eb7da61df02f0a914a.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> "This is my right handed hand cannon, a 46. cal weapon, really hard to control, but hey, it's efficient."





<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/chiappa-rhino-review-1.jpg.baa9c597232bcb321179c023ff9f7c8a.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51334" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/chiappa-rhino-review-1.jpg.baa9c597232bcb321179c023ff9f7c8a.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> "My 38. Easily a lighter weapon to go in my less dominant hand, this one is easier to control and is far better for me to get off massive barrages of shots quicker, this is within reason."





<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/arTX.jpg.98149db99ca96b276d75eb21d4997136.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51335" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/arTX.jpg.98149db99ca96b276d75eb21d4997136.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> "This is more of a treasure than anything to me, ideally not a good weapon in our modern age, what with the usage of metal ballistics. However, this gun has been passed down through the family, all the way until the day of its manufacturing, I will never let anyone have it... And, I will make my dad proud."





<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/lp0088.jpg.2fde965b6df5f90372d5af38e8f45c25.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51336" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/lp0088.jpg.2fde965b6df5f90372d5af38e8f45c25.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p> "This is something more my style, up close and personal. Don't get me wrong, I really like to take someone down from a distance, but this allows me to just tear into my enemies, and the best part, no ammunition to worry about, just a sharpening every now and then."


Faction(s)


Raider


Personality


Perhaps one of the most determined the Raider's have to offer, this is to say, she isn't perfect, and she definitely isn't the best self-proclaimed defender of the city. However, this woman can hold her own in a skirmish, perhaps not through the length of it, but through the immediate pressing onward of a fight. She holds herself together through faith and simply sheer luck, resulting in a rather lighthearted attitude. "If I'm still pondering my life, then I guess I can smile, means I'm not dead yet." She is compassionate about her role she plays in this now decaying world.


She is an uprising soldier among their ranks, fresh in her heart, full of life, but also strong to her protocol, perhaps her stubbornness can leave her open to weakness, but she wouldn't care so much if people would stop pointing it out. She's got a strong habit for getting herself into trouble and seems to be on a first name basis with the doctor. This doesn't mean she's careless, far from it, she is very cautious about her situations and thinks them out, unfortunately, it is her stubbornness once more that drags her into her messes. Instead of wearing the initial heavy armor that they have been granted, she prefers to appeal to a much lighter brand. A rugged mix of scrapped metal and leather, it is light and efficient, something she finds much more comfort in than cold steel.





Christina is a loving girl who has a huge soft spot for children and innocents, she also has remorse after each mission, the toll of death and the possibility of change now eradicated by her success, or her failure. She can be quick to blame herself for any dark situations that have prodded her life and she will never let them go, they sting her in ways no hand ever could. However, should the group be in good spirits, she will slide in, should they not, she will remain solemn and silent.


Bio/History


Where to begin? Well, for starters, she was born into this bittersweet world of freedom, chaos, and evil boons. She grew, much like any normal child would, under the protection of her family. She was healthy and innocent, constantly kept under wraps about the threat of the evil 'Reavers'. Of course, she was protected in her small hometown of Pleasanton.





As she hit the managed to skim the age of eight, the blonde headed girl had grown into quite the aggressive soldier. Her father's daughter. Her mother disapproved, and instead wanted her to live a peaceful life and stay far from the danger she knew ravaged the lands. Her father, was a Raider, a very bold man, one who rushed into combat headstrong, and always managed to return home every night for their meals. He was Christina's inspiration.





A tin fork dug into the meat before her, tipping the carved specimen into her mouth. She bit down, hard, hard enough to scrap the linings of her teeth firmly against the metal. "My goodness, slow down dear." Her mother's tone was soft, a hint of humor infusing itself with her words. Her father, Michael, let a small chuckle escape, "Now now, we're looking at a future protector of this here fine little settlement." Rita let her lips purse to a smile, "Of course, a champion, such as yourself, gnashing her food to pieces like an animal... Eat properly please. This is dinner." Her father went silent, stabbing himself some of the food on his plate, guiding the calories to his tongue where it began its gastrointestinal cycle. He gazed up from his bowed head, and in the cast shadow from the overhead light, he sent a reassuring wink at his daughter, she winked back.





"So, how was work today daddy?" Her playful little chime of a voice passed around the dinner table, he folded his hands together, resting his chin on the intertwined fingers. "Well... Today was alright, pretty casual, one or two Reavers get in, Raiders put 'em down... Of course... I managed to get something on my way home." He cast a glance to Rita, clearly something was going on, for she almost burst into that sort of secretive laugh, she was terrible at hiding things.





He pulled something out, it was shiny, "You didn't forget what today was, did ya?" He slid the long package along the rustic table, the paper seeming out of place in their darkening home. It cast a silvery glow along the rims of her eyes as she took it in her childish hands, "Happy birthday Christina." She began to unwrap furiously. Inside the surprisingly large package was something she hadn't expected to receive. A gun, and the family heirloom at that.





He was beaming with pride at her as she attempted to lift the heavy weapon, immediately dropping the barrel after getting it up to her hip, "It's really heavy..." She sighed. He got behind her, standing her up straight, using his hands to guide hers, "It is, and it will take practice, but one day, it'll be nice and light for you." She smirked, "Bang." She could see a Reaver in her uneducated mind, it didn't terrify her, she just wanted to be brave like her father. Unfortunately, she would soon realize that the world wasn't as vulnerable as she thought.





Three years had passed, the eleven year old adolescent crouched down on the dusty rocks, the rifle tight in her hands. Her senses were like a fine electric current, running every little possible through her mind, her nose was picking up on a faint scent, and her ears depicted the sound of boots crunching on the gravel. Her father, she never had to turn, age began to give him a limp, he had a very distinctive sound with each movement, step, pause, step, step, pause, step, step, pause, step, step. She aimed down the scope of the rifle, moving herself down now to her stomach, letting the magazine rest on the ground, steadying her aim. The wind was blowing a few miles per hour to the west, it'd make the shots a little difficult, but if she was silent, it wouldn't be too difficult.





She inhales deep, a small snake crawls out from its hole, slithering its way across the plane, a serenading voice carries from behind her, swept away by the wind before it could find its way to the reptile. She taps her finger on the trigger, aiming just a little bit to right, releasing her breath as the scope stops it movement, the sharp sound piercing the air as the bullet penetrates the small creature. It immediately begins to flee, leaving a blood trail from behind.





"Good shot!" Michael smiled. He patted her on the back as she rose to her knee. "Thanks dad." She smiled a little, and they both set out onto the plain, letting their boots crunch, her leg moving out of sync with his. She stared at it for awhile as they followed the trail, "Does it hurt?" He grinned and patted it, "No, no, of course not, it's just an old wound. It'll be with me for the rest of my life." He ruffled her hood, messing up her hair underneath, the dirt-stained face just smiled, "Hey, take it easy..." She skipped out in front of him, walking backwards, "That's why you got me. I'm gonna take care of ya!"





He laughed, moving with her as they neared a small valley, the blood trail led into a dark cave. The sun was setting now, casting its twilight glow upon her tattered cloth. They entered slow, her father led, knife drawn, he moved his head several times, trying to get a better vantage point. Letting some light in, she saw the injured creature, reared against the cave wall, baring its fangs, without hesitation, she raised her gun, taking the shot, piercing the skull, right through the roof of the open mouth.





He got close, sliced the head off and wiped his hands on his cargo pants. "Let's go home dear." She smiled, "Yeah, let's-" The roar from within the cave sent a riveting feeling down her spine, "Oh... No..." A Reaver emerged from the shadows, its daze of speed as it jumped onto Michael was blinding, Christina couldn't make out the creature. She aimed quick, opening fire, two bullet connected in the vile monstrosity as it turned its gaze to her, and was on her within the second. She used the gun to keep the gnashing teeth merely inches from her feet. Christina looked around frantically, the stray knife lay a few feet from her.





"Get... Off... Me!" She pushed the creature, no avail, it was growing closer to her face. "The saliva from the cracked teeth dripped onto her face, and with one bold dash, she let one of her hands go that were holding the creature back, feeling her grip formulate tight around the handle of the knife, and within that moment, drove the sharp steel through the temple of the monster.





With a huff of energy, she pushed the heavier creature off, crawling to father quickly, she ran her fingers along his face, sticky, warm... blood. "D-Dad...? Dad...?" She swallowed her tears, the stinging pain erecting in her throat as she fought them back, the tears were welling now as well, she ran a soft hand along his dirty-blonde hair. Her fingers checked for a pulse, nothing, he was cold, getting colder by the moment. "You... You don't wanna become one of them, do you? You told me..." She snaked her hand to her gun, pulling it towards her kneeling figure slowly, "To never let that happen to you."





She knitted her brows, silence filling the air, giving her thoughts more room to echo, beating back on her. It's your fault... You're a failure, he's dead because of you. How are you gonna explain this to your mother? She gripped the gun tight, "You told me..." She stood to her feet, the chinking of the butt of the gun touching her barrel signified her aim, "To never let you become one of them." She pulled the trigger, no thoughts, no remorse.





She removed the snake from the corpse, wrapping it around her belt as she moved out from cave, the night was upon them, she needed to hurry, and she did just that, she ran home, letting anger keep the tears at bay. "No... it was that damn creature's fault." She was huffing in exhaustion as she reached the gates, bypassing the security and headed to her home. A single light was on, it revealed the silhouette of a pacing woman.





Her hand opened the knob of the door, "Where have you been?" Christina just walked past her, laying the deceased snake on the table, "Where's your father, Christina!? Answer me." She stopped, halfway up the stairs, her hand tightening around the rusted handrail, "He's... Dad's dead." She kept walking up her stairs until she could shut the door, blocking out the painful wailing of her mother. It was now her turn to cry, she broke down on her bed, a fit of rage overtaking her, one of remorse, denial, self-accusation.





The evening moonlight caught her golden hair hidden in her hood, lulling her to sleep as it moved down through her body. She was asleep within a moment. The next thing she knew, she was seventeen, a matured girl, growing stronger by the day, the evening light was beating down on her.





She covered her brow with the hood, walking over to her mother, gun strapped around her shoulder, "I'll be home soon mom, I love you, take care of Brian." The little infant giggled in his crib, as if he had an exact comprehension whenever someone mentioned his name. Rita nodded, gray hairs flowing through her once beautiful brown hair. Christina winked, opening the door into the night air. She'd left the city again, walking along the road towards the western factory, just a little further than the valley where her father had died.





She always managed to pay homage before crossing, much like she did today. As her calm figured went up the hill to the compound, she felt eyes on her and spun around, no one. She squinted, scanning around, she was sure something was there, after a few seconds, she abandoned her superstition and entered through a broken link in the chain gate.





She entered through a vent, the mechanical and dusty machinery welcomed her home. She set a bag down as she began to gather small trinkets, she was working on a project, a major one, one that had required an abundance of components. It was easy picking for quite some time, however, she was set off by the quick pace of footsteps echoing on the stone ground. "Who's there?" She whipped the assault rifle up to her shoulder. Aiming cautiously down her sight.





A few moments of prolonged silence lead her to believe she was just hearing things, however, should she have been more careful, she wouldn't have lowered her aim, powerful arms were around her in a second, wrestling the gun from her arms. No matter how toned she had become, this masculine scent behind her was far stronger, that'd just be a fact. Several thug looking men and women appeared from the shadows, "She ain't from around here, is she?" The brute behind her spoke in a despairingly deep voice, "Nah, don't seem like it."





The one who approached her wore a mask, it was stained with blood, these were killers, a gang? Probably, but her thinking was interrupted by the rough hand around her throat, crushing her trachea within a moment. "Well, looky, who we got here," he tipped back the hood, revealing a fair face and golden-blonde hair, "City folk huh?" He picked up her gun, "Now, what's a pretty girl like you doing with a thing like this?" She squinted her eyes, her brows forming a tight crease just above her nose as she spat on his face.





"A little feisty aren't you, never mind that..." His tone became hostile, "We got ways of breaking you." She felt a heavy metal object collide with the back of her head, sending her to the ground, a barrel was immediately on her head. "Say your prayers bitch." She had a look of terror in her eyes as she gazed up, the crazed face, was staring at her, he was gonna do it, she shut her eyes as she heard the gunshot. Much to her surprise, she was still alive, because she could still feel the pain in the back of her skull.





Blood spattered along her face, followed by repetitive fire, "We got Raiders!" They ran for cover, her sub-conscious body managed to look up as she noticed a group of well trained men and women approaching her, one in particular, bore a mask to his face, he looked down upon her and spoke slowly, "We got a live one." Everything faded to black.





She never remembered the following days, but as it would happen, she awoke in a nursing office, only, this wasn't the one she was familiar with, it wasn't one of the civilian standard. Something felt off about it, bland, more mature. She was greeted by the masked man. A yellow striped coat around his shoulders as he wrote something down, giving off a little grunt. "Here," He muttered as he pushed a metal case to the foot of her bed, "Welcome to the Raiders." Her eyes widened in disbelief, "Raiders?" He nodded, gesturing to the casing, she sat up, swinging her legs out of the bed. She moved the case on her lap, unbuckling the latch and opening it, revealing a set of armor, two pistols and a sword. "I... I'm confused." He nodded, "You should be."





She had been drafted into the Raiders, for what reason at that time, she had no idea, but she later learned that the mask man who had saved her was Dr. Malrun. A legendary soldier in her opinion, how was it she had never seen him? The mask was infamous, that should've been a dead give away, but the fatigue at the time and sudden shock of the inauguration had left her in a daze.





She quickly settled in with her brothers and sisters, remaining silent among her rank, she was no outstanding soldier, to the contrary, she was terrible. This had been her dream, and she was flunking it. The training had been brutal honestly, up early, little to eat, go for a long run, get back, strength exercises, sparring after, marksman practice after that, and then began the evening lessons.





It was like this daily, and each day, she fell behind on the runs, couldn't keep up with anyone else with the weights, she'd get the shit kicked out of her in sparring, then manage to hit the target at least five times out of the ten they permitted. Perhaps the lessons were the only thing she was good at.





It was cold out, winter, she was sparring, inefficiently of course, her strikes were sloppy, her opponent, Siri, was an incredibly fast and aggressive girl, landing several blows on her side before driving her foot across her face. She fell to the ground, rubbing her already bruising cheek, slowly rising to her feet, "Son of a..." The drill instructor pulled her aside. "Listen kid... Go get some rest, you've got no place here, I want you gone by morning." Her mouth stood agape, "But... Sir, I can-" He cut her off, "Enough. This is non-negotiable, pack your bags now recruit." She bowed her head and dragged her way back to her barracks.





She ran her fingers gingerly through her hair, shaking as she began to cry, she was failing, at her dream, what'd she do after this? Go home, a failure, to her mother? Who expected so much from her? She smacked her fists against the wall, cringing in pain as she slid down it, incoming footsteps snapped her back to reality, she stopped the tears as quick as they'd come. She rubbed her nose, sniffling them away as she widened her eyes to air them out, standing up quickly. The masked man was staring at her, "What are you doing here?" She saluted him respectively, "I... I'm leaving..." She let out her last word with shaky projection, her pain only growing. He stared at her, grunting, "You were getting your ass kicked." She hung her head, "Yes sir... I did." Malrun shook his head, "You misheard, I said you 'were'..." He cocked his head, "Square up." She raised a curious brow at him, sniffling again as she got in her fighting stance. "I see... you're different, here, left leg extended, right leg outward, to the side..." He used his own foot to slide her hands into place. "Left hand extended with your leg, your right, tense it up, yes, good, hold it near your cheek."





She swallowed a lump in her throat, "Sir, what are you doing?" He pressed hard on her shoulders, she fell back, landing on her rear, "You're weak." He looked at her again. "I'm gonna change that." And change he did, within the next three years, he pardoned her discharge and allowed her to train with him especially, growing ever more talented. By the end of her time, she was able to hit at least nine out of ten of the target practices, she could almost beat Malrun in hand to hand, and she could use her blade efficiently. She had added a strong toning to her muscles, retaining her thin form, just with far more power behind it.





She felt proud of herself and found great pleasure in being in this combat-engineer's company. It was winter again, testing day, to see how they'd end up when placed in ranks. Where they'd be placed. There was an inevitable uproar when her name appeared on the board. Siri was the first to approach her, the brunette placing a crude finger on her shoulder, pressing hard, "I dunno what the hell you think you're doing here, you fuck up, but you're not gonna ruin my placement, not in the slightest, I mean, where the hell have you been in the past few years? Sucking up to that old man?" Christina's icy-blue eyes were sharp as she glared at Siri, "I'm not who I was three years ago."





And with that, Siri laughed, raising her hands in a sigh, "Well, I look forward to the sparring at the end." She laughed sarcastically. "Go home bitch baby." Her eye twitched, she was close to snapping, Malrun placed a comforting hand on her shoulder however, nodding, she responded with a similar gesture, "I'm ready."





She managed to finish second in the running, could lift just a little under Siri and managed to have a far superior accuracy. She winked at the girl as they lined up on opposite ends of the mat. Her first fight wouldn't be too hard, she remembered the guy she was up against, nothing supernatural, he was pretty normal. Josh Macks, nothing too difficult, the fight began, his strikes were slow, delayed, and she remained quick on her feet, getting in and out, throwing a blinding fast few jabs to his chin. He made his final mistake, he kicked, the slowest of the strikes, she caught it, driving him to the ground where she drove several blows into his ribs before he conceded.





She stood up, brushing off her shoulders. She went through her next few fights, taking the people out with ease, but kept a close eye on Siri, who still fought as though she was trying to show off, using her brute strength on anyone and anything that stood in the way. Soon, there were only two. The two girls stared each other down as soon as they'd gotten into the ring. Malhurn cleared his throat, clearly trying to get his connection, as soon as the DI broke up their stare, she found the doctor, he nodded, and she returned the favor. She turned back around, hopping on her bare feet twice, pounding her fists together before getting in her stance. It was unorthodox, clearly Siri thought she was some sort of pushover, no, despite how different her stance looked, it had power behind it.





She was light on her feet too, she was constantly hopping her feet, the flow of the battle, the circling began, the rest of the recruits were watching with earnest anxiety. Siri was planting her feet, a good defensive strategy. Christina knew her way around this however. Siri advanced first, a heavy left hook coming at her with blinding speed, connecting with her face, she was knocked just a bit, recovering as she ducked the right hand, returning the blow for a blow of her own. She drove three rapid punches into her ribs, irritating this girl. Siri wrapped her arms around Christina's head, bending her over before swiping her legs out underneath her, the blonde girl swirled her feet around, using both to remove the momentum of Siri, knocking her down as well, releasing her head.





She leaned back, placing her hands behind her, kipping up to her feet. Siri kicked, Christina met her shin with her own, the sickening sound echoing as they both began trading blows, punch for punch. She did however take a hard kick to the face again, Malrun coughed, he was telling her what she was forgetting. In a fashionable and quick standing, she dodged the oncoming strike to her face, sneaking a right hook onto her face, knocking her down hard.





No matter what she did however, Siri kept getting up, stronger each time she'd gotten knocked down. She was sticking it and weaving, throwing jabs in here and there, that was, until she finally managed to score a successful ten hits, ending it with a spinning kick. She was down, and she didn't get back up. In victory, she returned to her corner, sending a weak wink to Malrun. She sat down on the cold cement, rubbing her face, it was stinging, that girl was strong, but now she was having to be dragged off of the mat.





"Irony." She mumbled.





The next few months had seen her promotion to sergeant, she was also placed under a free-agent position, free to do anything she wished as long as she represented the Raiders. She retained close bonds with Malrun, getting use to a casual patrol around the city, usually taking care of thugs or some sort of rioter. She had been, on an occasion, out to the outlands, recon missions, sometimes a real combat situation, she began to develop experience. She was indeed growing, and it was a gentle morning that she'd woken up to, her ragged blanket in a mess as it warmed her body through the night.





Additional Character Traits/Flaws


+Agile


+Good with melee weapons


+Can blitz, good at going in and out


+Lightweight


+Fast


-Squishy


-Weak armor


-Emotionally torn


-Pushes herself past exertion


-Sometimes carries the burden of her father's death far too harshly

 

[The Velveteen Rabbit]

Jason Sita

Nicknames/Aliases

He has neither a nickname or an alias
​

Age

30 years old




Body Appearance

Standing at a height of 6'7" and a weight of 235 lbs, Jason is built strictly from muscle and doesn't seem to have a single ounce of fat on his body. He has brown hair that is always shaved down and a pair of dark brown eyes. Several deep scars run down his face, back, and biceps.




Equipment/Armor/Clothing Style

1. Shotgun

2. Kukri knife

Faction(s)

Former Raider - presently a wanderer

Personality

Jason is described as being detail oriented and unbreakable. He is strong both physically and mentally, has a reputation for being extremely aggressive in combat, and bold. But he respects those he believes are natural leaders and also those who have the same badass tendencies as he does. Jason is closed off in many ways, and he never seems to talk about himself or his past. He tends to mask his emotions with humor after losing a teammate or a close friend. His attitude is rough and unpredictable, meaning whatever happened in the past should be left there and unspoken of.




Jason is particularly intimidating. He seems to enjoy when others are intimidated of him, but he has a special way of not showing it. Jason is surprisingly mysterious and does not talk often. When he does, it is either to threaten someone or just small talk. Unless it's a close friend. That's a different story.




Bio/History

Jason grew up in a family of three brothers, his mother, and his abusive father. He lived in the slums of Pleasanton for most of his life, and it shaped him into the cold man he is today. Constantly protecting his mother, Jason was the only one out of three of his brothers who stood up to their father. As a result, many of the scars he has are because of that. When he was of age, Jason joined the notorious faction of the Raiders. His experience with them hardened his persona, and made him into a stronger man. He spent many years with them until he was 23 years old.


He returned home to find his family gone, and house empty. Jason never knew what happened to them, so he masked his pain under a hard layer of aggression. After awhile, seeing the lives of his fellow teammates being taken drove him to the core. His hard shell grew thicker, and he became too closed off to work with the faction. Jason left one day without saying why. He is seen taking on the most difficult of bounties by himself and returning unharmed. But that seemed to change after a person stole his bounty one day. Taking drastic measures, he found the person and confronted them about it. She was a woman he had never seen before, and for once in his life, Jason was intimidated by her. He ended up joining her on the mission. They worked extremely well together. He had finally found someone he could relate to.


They wandered the wastelands together for years until Jason decided it was time to return home. Kat never came back to Pleasanton, but he got the feeling that one day she would return.
​

Positive traits

-He is very defensive and will put his life on the line to save a friend or a teammate


-Jason is a natural at close quarters combat. He is a good ally to have


-He is utterly fearless


-Respectful in certain ways





Negative traits


-Jason is closed off and reserved. He never grows close to someone no matter what


-He is reckless, but his perseverance makes up for it


-He doesn't really give a shit about anything


-He can be very threatening
​

 

[PKCV2]

Given Name:

Antonio Cromartie

Nickname/Aliases:

Prefers to be called by either his first or last name

Age:

33

Facial Appearance:

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/image.jpg.8dd16b53629949dc0f0142705c857131.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51388" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/image.jpg.8dd16b53629949dc0f0142705c857131.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

Body Appearance:

Standing at only 5 feet 10 inches and weighing around 225 pounds, Antonio's body has been conditioned by the harsh nature of his work and the results show as the man seems to be a small package of muscle. His left arm is heavily tattooed from his shoulder to his wrist depicting various objects ranging from an apple to a fish to a dragon, etc.

Antonio is also never seen without his black wool cap worn around his head.

Equipment/Armor/Clothing Style:

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/image.jpg.514cbdc03c77f2a8e474999dd3a40875.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51390" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/image.jpg.514cbdc03c77f2a8e474999dd3a40875.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

Imagine the armor more rustic than the picture, scarred and battered from several firefights. The arms of the armor have been torn off since then, leaving only the shoulder pads present and what looks like a thin, torn sweater underneath that ends right before the elbows.

Weapons:

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/image.jpg.23a5ff0a554c8b9c808140f23a338425.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="51394" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/image.jpg.23a5ff0a554c8b9c808140f23a338425.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

This is Antonio's bolt rifle, slow firing, inaccurate, but hits hard enough to put fear into the eyes of any beholder that witnesses it's terrible results.

Antonio also carries a .357 revolver for close quarters combat or when the need for a faster firing rate pops up.

Faction:

Red Mask

Personality:

Like many of the Red Mask mercenaries, Antonio is a rowdy man on the battlefield, taunting his enemies while behind cover during a firefight, playing cat-and-mouse when someone decides to try and fight him in unarmed combat, a playful smile present when the going is easy. Of course when battles intensify, a survival instinct surges throughout his mind and he fights with concentrated violence.

Outside of battle, Antonio is more of an outgoing man, more than willing to engage in friendly banter and never the stranger, even going so far as to disregard boundaries, there are times when he loops his arm around someone he'd never met and start a conversation, oblivious to their reaction, he's just one of those guys. Getting Antonio to take on a more serious persona must involve either a personal dealing or money as his mercenary background jumps at the prospect of money. When on the job, he treats his employer as if they were the most important person in the world, paying no mind to how he's treated, the money at the forefront of his thoughts. It should also be noted that a larger sum of money can easily sway this man to defect.

Bio:

Raised traveling the devastated world molded Antonio in his many years of life at first. The need for sustenance and shelter nurtured his survival instinct, the harsh environments taught him to live as comfortably as possible with less. The constant struggle to stay alive developed the killing potential inside the young man as his parents would teach him how to handle firearms...and then how to use them effectively to get what he wanted...for the family was the reasoning. Anytime they encountered a random wanderer Antonio was at the front, his adolescent hands gripped firmly and expertly around the grip of his revolver, itching to pull the trigger and start looting.

Once the man hit his early twenties, his parents finally revealed who they were. They belonged to a group of men and women who called themselves the Red Masks, and now that two had successfully trained a boy to kill from an early age, instilling a sense of animalistic brutality, how could a prize such as the boy named Antonio not be integrated into the Red Masks? The thought of working nasty jobs for money was more than enough for Antonio to agree...finally he could live with more rather than less.

The next years of his life until 33 were spent taking on jobs ranging from escorting caravans to assisting in full-blown wars between small, rather irrelevant gangs that would eventually die with the wind leaving nothing to hint at their existence...after all their equipment was usually picked clean by the Red Masks who they hired. Now Antonio Cromartie resides in Pleasonton, waiting on the Masks to rebuild themselves while he continued to participate in small jobs, sometimes even helping out on patrols to protect the settlement, outside and inside.

Traits/Flaws

+Fearless in battle

+Completely compliant when hired

+Socially capable

-Socially insensitive

-Sometimes his intensity in battle gets him in trouble

-Easily persuaded with money

​

 

[Giovanni Favehari]

CS


Given Name


Iko Vani

-




Nicknames/Aliases


Ivan

-




Age

18

-




Facial Appearance

(Before the incident)


Body Appearance

Suite allows him Camouflage for five minutes (Gift from Nance)

{RailGun/Armor piercing rounds.}Go to weapon Sub Machine gun

{RailGun}Dual Weild Pistols

Electrocute


on contact


Faction(s)

NSF




Personality




Doesnt speak due too physical problems so he keeps to himself alot. Iko is known to disappear for long periods of time and show up with new skills. Hes an outcast to most but can be the most friendly person once you get to know him. He has dedicated himself to NSF so he might come off as ignorant and stubborn but hes always just following orders. He keeps calm in the most scariest of situations

His quietness makes it hard for him to explain himself to new people and sometimes is mistaken as a wanderer for his sneaky ways. He hates wanderers, and believes order is the only way to survive this apocalyptic world. He follows any order given to him without second thought. He prefers to be not seen and stays in the shadow even at base. When he is not busy he tends to play with a long piece of string that he keeps in his right pocket.




Bio/History




Iko was born into a wanderer family. His family werent fighters, they rode around hoping to find civilization that met there needs but always failed. Iko's cousin Nance was a ex NSF soldier who left the to take care of them. She was there only source of protection. Once Iko had gotten old enough Nance started to teach Iko everything she learned at NSF. Iko and Nance grew close threw the years and fought side by side in every encounter with a Reaver. As Nance and him grew closer him and his parents began to drift apart.

ONe day driving through a jungle Iko family didnt run into as many Reavers as usual so they were relaxed . A little too relaxed, causing a group of Reavers to jump onto there vehicle and ram it into a tree. With the whole family screaming and running wild, Iko decided to take charge finding Nance and killing as many Reavers as possible but his effort wasnt enough. As he watched his family including Nance fall around him. Iko was now cornered and he fell back as he watched the group of Reavers circle him. Out of no were a a flash of light emitted all around him and thats the last thing he remembered until he awoke at some sort of base from what he could hear. He learned later on that his face was melted off by an incursion bomb that a squadron of NSF soldiers threw but they had managed to keep him alive with a helmet that kept his brain functioning along with ears and nose. But he can never remove the helmet its forever apart of him. He still had his old combat skills but had to learn how to operate without sight this was difficult for him at first at the age of 15 but by the time he was 18 he was fully functional with the help of the helmet and other modification and intensive NSF training. He was a high ranked soldier and was given the position of NSF Assassin. He hardly worked in teams because of his communication issue.

He was loved his job Until NSF was no longer about protection. His missions became more brutal and had no reason behind them. Even so he followed orders, until one day his Superior officer sent him on a mission to kill a group of wanderers. Iko was told these wanderers were plotting against NSF to raid there base but when he saw them it reminded him of his family. They were unarmed and just seemed to be looking peace. He followed them around for three days and realized he wasn't sent to kill terrorist. This angered him and he never returned back to NSF but didnt think he belonged anywhere else, he had the blood of countless other innocents on his hands and he didnt know it till know.

Additional Character Traits/Flaws




Close Quarter combat

Stealth

Speed

Escape Artist

Blind

Mute

Random occurring headaches

Minimum experience in Far range Combat

​

(Not one of my best works XP. but hope its enough to join, the idea of this rp is amazing.)

 

[Assailant]

Given Name


- Maxwell Teller


Nicknames/Aliases


- Maxy, Rhodey


Age


- 32


Facial Appearance

Body Appearance

Equipment/Armor/Clothing Style


Packs light on the clothes. A simple white overshirt with kevlar underneath suffices for him. Basic pants with lots of pockets. A satchel for important stuff, and a backpack for somewhat less important stuff. He carries around a pistol based handgun, often times with an automatic as his primary. Always be prepared. (Basically, his body appearance picture)


Faction(s)


Wanderer


Personality


Max gets stuff done. That's his motto. Always perseverant, he pushes to get stuff done. He's also, however, not much of a people person. Mostly introverted and has a hard time reading people, he will often offend or anger people without realizing why or even that he is. Even if he does realize, he often won't care.


That isn't to say he doesn't understand the importance of emotions. Taking it from a logical and statistical standpoint, he attempts to improve moral when it begins to get dangerously low.


He's crafty, and can find himself a way out of even the stickiest of situations. And even not being a people person as he is, he'll become very loyal to those he befriends and become a powerful ally.


You REALLY don't want him as an enemy.


Bio/History


Max lives in a large outpost in a ruined city far outside the walls. A large group of wanderers live in a skyscraper. They are all head by a ruthless gang leader, who keeps them together, but rules with fear as well. Max works for him, along with his friend, to do jobs for him. Currently, they are in debt to him, and are working to pay that off.


Additional Character Traits/Flaws


- Antisocial


- Hard at empathy


- Perseverant to a fault


- Still, perseverant


- Crafty


- Down to Earth

 

[Noble]

CS


Given Name

Baba Yaga​

Nicknames/Aliases

Witch, Snake Oil​

Age

22​

Facial Appearance

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c27684b10_Blight_BabaYaga1.jpg.bd495de9880c4fcec29d8804d564992a.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="52660" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c27684b10_Blight_BabaYaga1.jpg.bd495de9880c4fcec29d8804d564992a.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c2768afa9_Blight_BabaYaga2.jpg.b79aff793b726e5f648fc7c43dca57d1.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="52661" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c2768afa9_Blight_BabaYaga2.jpg.b79aff793b726e5f648fc7c43dca57d1.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>​

Body Appearance

A sturdy 5’7” and muscular build, mangled scars are scattered about her body from years of fending off hostiles, and from being caught in a fire when she was seventeen. Very relaxed and slouching posture.​

Equipment

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c2768fa2a_SerratedKatana.jpg.615c1319860f9004116977a1222d46e5.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="52662" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c2768fa2a_SerratedKatana.jpg.615c1319860f9004116977a1222d46e5.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

Serrated Katana

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c27691c76_HeavyLighter.PNG.1598d3463b8eff3443ebd19710d90702.PNG" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="52663" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c27691c76_HeavyLighter.PNG.1598d3463b8eff3443ebd19710d90702.PNG" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

Heavy Lighter (nonlethal but damaging weapon of high voltage)

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c27694002_StunLighter06.PNG.d9c2b4b3a4aeb699fea26d66a906a1c6.PNG" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="52664" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c27694002_StunLighter06.PNG.d9c2b4b3a4aeb699fea26d66a906a1c6.PNG" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

Stun Lighter 06 (nonlethal stunning weapon of low voltage)

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c276b4641_Dies505CSShettier.PNG.ce4a41ecd788466d5a6d702143547f78.PNG" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="52665" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_05/57a8c276b4641_Dies505CSShettier.PNG.ce4a41ecd788466d5a6d702143547f78.PNG" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

Dies 505 CS Shettier

Pack of assorted tools, medical kit, and rations.​

Faction

Wanderer​

Occupation

Merchant/Equipment Engineer. Self-employed.

Personality

Informal and unconcerned, Baba Yaga is a very relaxed person (for the most part), and very much blasé about most things. Having faced a lot of troubles before reaching Pleasanton, she tends to lack pity for anyone or for anyone’s problems. Despite that she tends to be inherently inquisitive and intrusive, and likes to get involved in others’ business for her own amusement.

Baba Yaga, again, growing and adapting in harsh environments, is an ambiguous person and tends to remain a neutral party as much as possible to avoid unwanted betrayals and backstabbings. This paranoia comes from the fact that she is, indeed, a con man at heart and she believes that anyone and everyone is going to screw her over at some point. But even despite that, she can be very compassionate, and has a lot of wisdom to share.

With a large sense of humor, natural charisma, and the ability to adapt socially, emotionally, and mentally to her surroundings she can find a fit in most any crowd, and she treats this skill as her major asset to survival.

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Bio/History

Raised solely by her single mother Venera Yaga, Baba Yaga was taught the woman’s way to survive in a world sunk back into the dark ages. Venera was a small woman with little upper body strength, so her methods of survival was to work around things instead of through them. Conning and manipulation were major assets to her. And being a small woman, fighting was never easy, so she always taught Baba Yaga that you didn’t have to overpower and beat your opponent to death, you just needed to get them down and keep them down long enough to get away. Baba Yaga, of course, resembles her father (a man that left Venera as fast as he came) in height and build, and it was up to her to utilize these strengths as they came into being. She still makes use of nonlethal weaponry, simply out of habit, but she has picked up swordplay, and she’s picked it up quite quickly and quite efficiently.

Living life as a Wanderer, Baba Yaga and Venera came in contact with a lot of unsavory groups and individuals, making a fair amount enemies along way. Which eventually lead to Venera’s death when a warehouse they were squatting in was locked up and set on fire in the middle of the night. Through brute force of strength and the help of her mother Baba Yaga was able to escape, but not without severe injury and not without loss.

After Venera’s death Baba Yaga settled with a caravan of Wanderers on the terms that she’d not just pull her own weight, but tend to the upkeep of all of the weapons and machinery. Holding onto the values her mother taught her, she didn’t stay with that caravan too long, moving onto other groups but never lingering long enough to make friends. Just enough to cheat someone or several someones out of particular tasks or gear.

Surviving on her own was difficult, and it led her into a lot of trouble; starvation, thirst, injury, on the run from people she’s cheated and the Reavers of the wastelands, losing equipment and having to scrap what she can. It was rough, and she sacrificed a many few in the name of survival. There are no ends to justify the means of her actions but even in the face of the adversary that survival represents, when she was starved nearly to death, bleeding from severe injuries, her luck didn’t run out, and she found her way to Pleasanton. Here she has put up a temporary market stall in the center of town where she sells tonics, potions, and repairs equipment under the business identity of Snake Oil.

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Additional Character Traits/Flaws

Suffers from extreme paranoia. Distrusts easily and is self-reliant, lacks hesitation to throw others under the bus for her own gain and survival.

Partially deaf and suffers from both chronic pain from years of badly healing injuries and nerve damage.

Over protective of children and those she deems as assets.

Polyamorous polysexual.​