Joined: Fri Jan 03, 2014 7:40 am
Location: The Hell Dimension
Blog: View Blog (3)
We do it. Post reserved for dudes.
And here's my dudes!
- Michael Hawke | +
- Name: Michael Hawke
Appearance: Michael is an able-bodied human man of mostly caucasian ethnicity, in good shape and generally free of ailments and mutations. He's around six feet tall, give or take a few inches, and has a well-built (for a wastelander) frame, more built for endurance and long-term physical exertion than powerful bursts of strength. His skin has a healthy tan to it, and a few scars here and there. A particularly noticeable one crosses the underside of his right forearm, lining up with another one that curves diagonally across his chest. He also has a single tattoo, a simple tribal band around his right bicep consisting of a sherrif's badge, a pair of horse heads facing towards it, and a snake above and below. Structure-wise, his face is pleasant to look at, and gives him an approachable look. He's got an oval jaw, high and flat eyebrows, and high cheekbones, as well as bright blue eyes. His hair is a deep chestnut brown, a bit shaggy and usually 'combed' back and up with his fingers, and more often than not, he's got a short, rough beard kept moderately groomed with a knife.
For clothing, he dresses simply, preferring light carrying to heavy armor. His normal outfit consists of a white collared shirt decorated with grey pinstripes, top button undone and sleeves rolled to the elbow, a pair of dark blue denim jeans, and a pair of brown leather boots. He accessorizes with a thick leather vest, worn open above his shirt and pocketed near the hips, a pair of leather gloves, the right of which lacks fingers, a belt with a large star-emblazoned buckle, and a cowboy hat. He's also in possession of a tattered blue scarf, a pair of aviator shades, and a long duster, which are brought out in the event of bad weather, but usually stowed safely inside his backpack, a simple duffle bag.
Personality: Michael is generally an easygoing, kind, and laid-back sort of guy who avoids conflict when possible and makes as little collateral damage he can when it happens. While he has something of a distaste for bloodshed, he's far from cowardly, and is in fact quite brave when it comes to aiding others or making a place safe enough to remain in. While he prefers not to kill, he doesn't beat himself up over doing so, and will put a bullet in an attacker without a second thought. He's rarely angry and enjoys taking time to appreciate the beauty in life, whether it's as simple as a butterfly fluttering by or as majestic as a fertile valley separated from the wastes. He firmly believes that by doing good, the world can be made into a better place, and thus aspires to do as much good as he can on his travels. This results in leaving a trail of good deeds in his path, as he rarely settles long enough to enjoy most of it himself. While he'll always be ready to help people out, he feels as if staying with them will soften him up and tempt him into inaction. Due to this, he feels obligated to keep himself on the old dusty trail, going where he's needed until he's needed no longer.
On a personal level, he's sweet and easy to make friends with, hang around, and have a good time with as company. He sees the good in people, and prefers to talk things out whenever possible. A strong love of life and nature is easily noted, and he can find companionship and beauty in some of the most unlikely things. However, he can occasionally show hints of an inner desire to just settle down and live an easy life, which causes him turmoil due to his desire to make a mark on the world and help it recover. And while he is indeed hard to anger, he's not immune to negative emotion, and holds some intense hatred for certain things in the world. When he or someone he cares about is wronged or hurt, he can be extremely ruthless in avenging or protecting them, and in his worldview, certain kinds of people are better off dead, far past the point of redemption. But given his willingness to try and help people who have been dealt extreme hardships, it takes a hell of a lot to get to that level.
History: Michael's life began in a small village in the Northwest Commonwealth. Built somewhere near what was the border of Idaho and Oregon, he lived within a small town, built almost entirely by hand out in a relatively fertile area of wilderness. The village's inhabitants, a more 'civilized' than normal tribe, were known through the area as a peaceful group that provided fresh food for anyone who wished to trade, but were generally free from raids by less agreeable groups due to their effective combat skills. The Snake River Walkers, as they were known, inhabited various points around the river they were named after, modeling themselves after the culture of the American Old West, learned about through books and holotapes found long before their settlement.
Michael's early childhood was a source of fond memories, long afternoons spent out on the fields, comfortable evenings with friends watching fireflies, and other small things that he still enjoys to this day. While mostly uneventful, it was a good life, a simple existence free from the strife of the wastelands and the bureaucracy of large-scale settlements. Of course, it was not without hardships. The overall lack of technology the village had meant field work was done by hand, and it became especially grueling during the summers and winters. Whether it was as simple as hot weather causing heat-based illness or as hard to manage as crops dying in the cold, it wasn't easy. Despite weather and the occasional conflict with other tribes, they prospered for decades.
Unfortunately, all could not last. Trade was the primary way the village obtained supplies other than grown food and livestock, and during a particularly harsh winter, they simply stopped showing up. Too little food was being produced to attract well-intentioned outsiders, and without things like medicine and other supplies, it was unlikely that they would survive the winter. At this point, Michael was a young adult, and along with other younger members of the village, came up with the idea of migrating south to find warmer land. While the elders disagreed with the plan, many of them too old or sick to survive such a potential journey, around half of the village's inhabitants agreed to it.
The exodus began, sights set on Nevada. The village, left with much fewer people to sustain, would go on to survive the winter with little trouble. On the other hand, a long and deadly journey awaited Michael's party. At first, things seemed like they would be okay. Food reserves, mostly vegetables prepared and sealed in jars back home, kept them sustained well during the first month or so of their long walk. Hunting provided meat and fat needed for cooking, and gathering locally growing plants helped stretch the reserves as well. Water soon became a problem, as the further from the river they went, the less chances they had to gather water from it, and soon after passing the Nevada border they were beginning to run out.
Conditions grew worse as they went on. While they had successfully escaped the cold north, they soon found themselves in an even worse place, the scorching dead sands that barely sustained any life at all. Wildlife was sparse, and any civilizations were even sparser. Eventually, the group had to resort to hunting and consuming mutated insects, some of which proved toxic when not correctly prepared. People began to die, whether from starvation due to refusal to eat the potentially deadly creatures or being poisoned by their only source of food. Despite losses, the group carried on, still hopeful to find solace somewhere in the deserts.
An attempt to follow a river to the east resulted in an encounter with the violent 80s tribe, aggressive raiders who covered their territories on rebuilt motorcycles. The group successfully managed to fight them off, killing many of their attackers, but losing even more of their own numbers in the process, including Michael's own father. There was little time to mourn, and after he was buried, the group proceeded further south, using the motorcycles of the fallen raiders to cover ground more quickly. Reinforcements came, but as the groups were put on more even ground by the vehicles, the more coordinated remnants of Michael's group once again fended off their attackers.
Eventually, fuel ran out, and the group once again was forced to walk. Their hardships were not over, and as they neared the Clark County area of the Mojave Wasteland, a scouting party allied with Caesar's Legion stopped them with the intentions to enslave them all. Fighting broke out, devastating what remained of the travel party. Michael was one of only four who came out of the battle on either side, accompanied by his mother and two childhood friends. All of them were injured, and would have died out in the wastes if not for the intervention of a group of NCR Rangers.
They were taken to a camp, their wounds treated and conditions evaluated. While they were lucky to be alive, they could not remain at the camp for long, and were given directions to the town of Primm in the Mojave Wasteland. There, the survivors of the long journey finally settled, taking some time to adjust to the new land. Coincidentally, local culture was not entirely dissimilar to the one they were raised on, and they adjusted rather well. Michael gained work as a courier for the Mojave Express, after the owners of the company overheard him speaking of his experiences on the road. He delivered packages throughout the Mojave to provide for his mother, who eventually passed away of old age, and his remaining friends, who went their own way to begin new lives elsewhere.
He worked for years, eventually landing a job as one of six couriers contracted to deliver strange, seemingly useless items to the Vegas Strip. His delivery, a set of riding spurs, took him halfway to Vegas when he found the body of another one of the couriers, that one carrying a novelty belt buckle. He buried the courier and took the package, intending to finish the delivery, until he learned that Mojave Express couriers were being targeted by someone, told over a radio news report. Michael immediately decided to leave, not believing his life was worth the price of some costume pieces. Without returning to the work building, he stopped by his home and gathered what he could, taking off into the night toward the east.
Intent on putting as much distance between himself and the Mojave as possible, he purchased a junker motorcycle on the edge of the Nevada border, powered by a fusion core. Using the motorcycle, he rode through Arizona, avoiding the attention of Legion patrols in their homeland by keeping to trade routes and moving alongside caravans, essentially making himself as normal as possible during the journey. The occasional scuffle broke out, but it was never more than a handful of patrolling initiates at a time, and the focus the Legion put onto the Mojave at the time meant their attention was elsewhere anyway.
His travel across Arizona and New Mexico consisted of helping others out of bad situations, including a two month long journey to help return a kidnapped child home from a slaver. It took him a long time to cross the deserts, but outside of Legion territory, he met many people and lended a hand whenever he could. It gave him a sense of peace, knowing that even in small ways, he was helping make the world better. From then on, it became something of a personal duty for him, albeit one that kept him from ever settling down again. As much as he'd like to eventually take it easy and just live out his days away from conflicts, there's too much wrong with the world for him to be comfortable with abandoning his goal. If not just for himself, then for the tribe he left behind. Eventually, he reached Texas, but not before his motorcycle was destroyed in an encounter with raiders, ruined completely by its detonated fusion core. After that point, he continued on foot.
- S.P.E.C.I.A.L. stats | +
- Strength: 5
Michael is skilled in the use and maintenance of kinetic firearms, ranging from the simple sidearm to the more complicated machinegun. Generally, he much prefers weapons that are easy to maintain, reliable, and without a multitude of complicated mechanics. The more parts to a gun there are, the higher a chance something will fail. His preferences thus lead him to use things like revolvers, bolt-action and lever-action rifles, and shotguns, with a particular love for the latter. His aim with a sidearm is good enough to put a hole through a bottlecap, and his experience with older gun models lets him reload them with surprising speed, making the slower-to-use models on par with more modern weaponry in his hands.
Living on the trail has taught Michael a lot about wasteland flora and fauna, weather patterns, building shelters, and the simple art of cooking a meal over a campfire. He has expansive knowledge of what in the wastes is edible, what's toxic, and what can be made safe through cooking techniques, as well as how to filter dirty water and make some surprisingly tasty things with relatively limited ingredients. On the fauna side of things, tracking, hunting techniques, and capturing and taming animals is something he knows much about, and he keeps his discoveries and tried-and-true methods written within a journal to look back on. He's also good at making a place to sleep and stay hidden when necessary, and isn't too bothered by non-deadly, but uncomfortable weather conditions.
Dealing with people from all walks of life, as well as his wandering lifestyle, has necessitated that Michael be a good talker who can see through lies and convince people to open up to him. His naturally kind personality helps people like him, though there are the inevitable few who find his cheery disposition more an annoyance than anything. He's a very understanding individual who can work out deeply hidden issues in people to aid them, convince ongoing hostilities to end, and generally try to deal with things peacefully. More casually, he's got a very good sense of humor and enjoys back-and-forth banter and other playful sorts of talk, and can be very genuine with his feelings when talking about them.
Equipment: Michael uses firearms as his primary weapons, preferring mid to short range battle over long-distance sniping engagements. He commonly uses two guns, swapping between them depending on situation. He has and will used other guns when available as well.
His sidearm is a Colt Python .357 magnum revolver, with a stainless steel frame and brown wood handles and a six shot cylinder. The barrel is six inches long and ported along the top, and the grip has an ergonomic design for comfortable holding. It's kept in a leather thigh holster strapped to Michael's left leg, the belt of which holds bullets for quick access. He uses hollow point ammo for use against unarmored foes and animals, and has a limited supply of armor-piercing bullets.
His current main weapon is a Mossberg Silver Reserve II double barreled over-under shotgun. It's been sawed down to a size that allows it to be held comfortably one handed, but not so short in the barrel that it becomes useless at more than the shortest ranges. The gunmetal is black, and the wooden grips are a deep brown stain. It takes 12 gauge shells of all kinds, and when loaded with slugs can be surprisingly effective at a distance. Michael usually loads it with normal buckshot, but has also used experimental hand loads when possible. It sits in a back holster, secured around the torso with a shotgun shell-carrying bandolier.
More for use as a tool than a weapon, Michael is in possession of a large, heavy-bladed bowie knife. It's about 12 inches long and kept sheathed opposite his sidearm, kept sharp with a small whetstone. While it's useful for self defense up close, he much prefers his guns, but can use the knife very deftly when using it to carve or chop something.
While he doesn't employ true armor, his vest and gloves are quite protective against environmental wear and tear or sharp objects, like the teeth and claws of mutated wildlife or even small knives. Naturally, it does nothing to stop bullets or blunt impacts. His duffle bag is also full of travel supplies, like rope, sheets, a small cooking pan, some silverware, a first-aid kit with stimpaks and chems, and a glass jar full of bottlecaps. He's also got some spurs he wears, more for decoration than anything. Finally, he keeps a leatherbound journal, full of notes and pictures of things he's seen and collected during his travels. Some trinkets inside have been taped or glued to the pages, generally small things like coins, special bottle caps, paper scraps, or photographs.
Other: Michael has a faithful mole rat companion that he captured and tamed on the road a few years ago. She's proven to be quite a useful helper, able to dig for root vegetables, sniff out important items, and on occasion, carry loot in a back saddle. She's fairly large, about knee high and four feet long. He wants to name her, but can't think of anything good enough.
- Surge | +
- Name: Sergei "Surge" Gorbachyov
Appearance: Surge is a Mariposa super mutant. He's roughly eight feet tall, and like all super mutants, heavily muscled and somewhat deformed. While he's not the largest of his kind around, he's still much stronger than a human, capable of tearing through things with ease. His skin is dark blue, somewhat lumpy-looking in places, and scarred due to the various battles he's been in. What look like plasma burns cover his chest and right shoulder, and a large vertical scar runs down his head from his eyebrow to his chin. He has a large, flat nose, a heavy forward-set brow above grey eyes, and an exaggerated jawline with heavy jowls. He has no hair, completely bald and even lacking eyebrows, though the left side of his face has a small ridge of tumors where the brow would be.
For clothing, Surge is rather limited by his size. His normal outfit seems to be the remnants of a vault suit and labcoat, consisting of faded, torn blue pants and a dusty, tattered-sleeved white jacket, paired with things that were obviously made later in the wastes. A pair of about knee-length boots and a sleeveless shirt, both made of soft brahmin hide, provide comfortable wear with adequate durability. The knees of his pants have built in padding, and a pair of work gloves usually kept looped behind his belt are often used when he's building something. Said belt also holds a variety of large pouches, which contain various objects he deems useful enough to keep on his person. Also related to working, he wears a pair of large, multi-lensed goggles, worn on his forehead or around his neck when not in use.
Personality: All his life, Surge has been quiet and distant from many people. He's not the easiest person to talk to, both because of his introverted nature and his somewhat questionable grip on modern phrases and sayings. He tends to take things quite literally, not so much that it influences his actions, but enough to cause him some confusion when people talk to him. His relative silence compared to others, combined with the fact that he's a super mutant, have made it easy for some people to stereotype him as dumb or unknowledgable. On the inverse, he's very smart, excelling especially in fields of technology. Tinkering with mechanical objects, fixing broken robots, harvesting pieces of usable scrap from destroyed vehicles, and other such mechanically-inclined hobbies are among his favorite. He's also quite adept at using computers, and enjoys using terminals whenever possible, keeping his typings well-protected at all times. While occupying himself, he tends to be a bit more open to talking, especially if it's answering questions about what it is he's doing.
While far from stupid and overly hostile, Surge's experiences as a super mutant and some changes that happened after his mutation left him with a very short temper and a lack of reservation about breaking things (and people) that prove to be either obstacles or annoyances. In particular, he dislikes people insulting his intelligence, and often ends up threatening people who do so. Various encounters with prejudiced non-mutants has instilled a prejudice towards them, a vicious cycle of dislike and disdain that has only served to make life for both sides less easy. He doesn't mind ghouls nearly as much, and he has a particular interest in synths and cyborgs. But it's rare to find a normal human he considers worth his time these days. He has especially little patience for idiots, but is willing to offer some insight to people who actually want to learn things, provided they can communicate with him clearly enough. Likewise, he enjoys learning new things, and studies old-world writing whenever he can find it. Grognak the Barbarian has quickly become his favorite comic series.
History: Surge's time as a human has nearly been forgotten. He only remembers bits and pieces, scraps of memory hidden deep within his mind. He was a Russian immigrant, a scientist, and an inhabitant of Vault 17 by the time the bombs dropped. Besides that, he remembers having an affinity for robots and electricity. When it comes to the details, such as any family, his life before science, or almost anything prior to the war, he honestly could not tell you. Occasionally, he would tell stories to his super mutant colleagues, entertaining the lesser-minded soldiers during the ends of long patrols and days filled with battle.
Past his time of mutation, his memory is clearer. He was taken from Vault 17 alongside many others by an invading army of super mutants, a mere two years after the apocalyptic Great War. Surge was among those infected with the Mariposa strain of the Forced Evolutionay Virus, which changed him into one of the most ideal examples of a mutant that the base had. While his mind was afflicted to a degree, influencing his attitude to make him more aggressive and combat-minded as well as dulling his memory as a human, he retained his intelligence and sanity almost completely.
He made an exceptional soldier, capable of giving highly intelligent orders to the less successful mutants that acted as troops. Promotions came as time went on, and eventually, he began to utilize stealth boys to perform reconaissance and intelligence gathering, as well as gaining access to technologies that allowed him to create custom equipment using his old scientific knowledge. However, overuse of the machines furthered his mutation, and while he still remained mostly the same, his aggressive tendencies grew, influencing him enough to give him a great enjoyment of close combat and the rush of battle.
Surge has lost count of how many people he's killed, subjected to mutation, or otherwise harmed during his time as a member of the army. In fact, he has trouble remembering much at all sometimes, though he feels some tinge of regret for all the suffering he's had a hand in. Toward the end of his career as a soldier, he considered going AWOL to start anew, far from the Californian wastelands he plagued for years. Eventually, the Master of the army he was a part of was defeated, forcing it to disband. Surge leapt at the opportunity, and vanished into the night, never to be seen again by his old allies as their infrastructure collapsed.
For some time, he remained in Nevada, living within a mountain community established by another intelligent super mutant. He worked mostly to help power the town, as there was little else he was really good at. The realization that his skills were good only for killing made him furious and internally self-loathing during his time at the town. None of the others judged him, as many of them had done things much the same, if not worse, but paranoia and aggressive thoughts brought on by his furthered mutation made him feel as if the entire town was constantly speaking behind his back, planning to bring some form of retribution for his crimes. The thoughts eventually became too much to bear, and he took off in the middle of the night, hauling all his destructive tools with him.
In truth, he did not know where he was going. He had no goal, no ideas for where his life would take him. All he knew was that he wanted desperately to distance himself from the west, and thus he began a long trek that took him out of the safety of his community. And, as fate would have it, right into a patrol made up of Brotherhood of Steel paladins. A battle ensued, and while he fought hard and with superior technology, he was outgunned and defeated. Once disarmed and presumed dead, plasma having eaten through his armor and burned his flesh, he was stripped of all salvageable tech and abandoned in the unforgiving desert. He remained unconscious for hours, and even after awakening the next day, remained laying in the sand for an entire morning.
He considered never getting up, and allowing the desert to take him. It would be the end, and nothing else would cause him any trouble. Eventually, after an attack by a particularly large radscorpion, he decided against it. If life would not let him have a quiet end, then he would seek some form of redemption. With no supplies and only desert around him for miles on end, he continued his travels, seeking things that could aid him from traveling merchants and anyone else who would talk rather than shoot at him on sight. His wounds were eventually tended, leaving massive scarring, but no longer at risk of infection. One merchant he traded with later during his travels offered him a place in their community, and he followed them through the remains of the Four States Commonwealth, avoiding the attention of the local rulers by hiding beneath a large hooded cloak.
He spent some time with a group of New Canaanites, where he was a useful ally both for bringing power to settlements, getting old machines working, and keeping their caravans safe on the road. Surge never quite subscribed to their religious beliefs, but he enjoyed their company and the sense of peace that the town had. He remained there for some time, but eventually parted ways with them, as the thoughts that had forced him to flee his first and second homes finally caught back up with him. His parting was more amicable this time, and after a heartfelt farewell, he continued moving east.
Some time later, Surge found himself in a very, very promising place. The Texas commonwealth was a highly advanced utopia in some places, particularly the shining city of Houston. Seeking to study the technologies within, he began his travels across the wasteland, procuring some extra tools from locals during his approach. He has still yet to reach the city, but has hopes that he can utilize its bounties to maximize his inventions' efficiency and hopefully spread the technology to other places.
- S.P.E.C.I.A.L. stats | +
- Strength: 8
Surge has expansive knowledge regarding computers, robotics, and power systems. Rather than focusing on hacking pre-existing security systems, he uses his skill with programming to create AIs for robotic constructs he builds. He's also skilled with influencing the AI of hostile machines remotely, if only temporarily, to either turn the tides in a battle or quickly deactivate the afflicted robot. He can also create high-tech modifications for weapon and armor, and construct energy weapons and other related objects with seemingly useless junk. He specializes in the use of tesla coils in his work, both as a power source and a form of offense and defense. Likewise, he can optimize the power output of energy cells, and create unique versions with added effects.
Making good use of his own constructions, Surge is highly skilled in the use of energy weapons of various sizes, ranging from plasma pistols to gatling lasers. Through various sciences, he's learned how to alter the properties of laser and plasma weapons, and almost everything he uses is a personal modification. While he prefers to focus on accuracy, he also uses what he calls 'overcharge' mods, allowing him to expend an entire power cell to overclock the weapon's shooting potential, whether it's a mass of rapid-fired lasers or a large ball of explosive plasma. His specialty lies in the use of Tesla coil-based weaponry, which fire various forms of electric energy that are capable of killing beasts and frying robots, as well as infusing electricity into other energy projectiles.
While not his primary form of fighting, Surge's size and durability make him dangerous up close. He prefers weapons he can wield one handed, which due to his size is damn near anything of a reasonable size, and tends to gravitate towards hammers and other blunt objects that require less maintenance. Much like his ranged weapons, he doesn't settle for simple things, and often modifies them to add a scientific touch. Heating systems, engines, and his signature tesla coils for electrical conduction have all been used before, which can turn a simple sledgehammer into an electric, rocket-powered tool of destruction.
Equipment: His primary weapons are energy-based guns, and while he's used both pistols and large weapons in the past, he prefers rifle-sized guns that allow for a good amount of firepower without being overly cumbersome. Mostly for backup, or when ammo runs low, he also uses melee weaponry.
Surge's main weapon after the loss of his old equipment is a makeshift-looking laser musket, constructed from parts of a broken AER9 laser rifle, a tesla coil, and various salvaged pieces he used to reconstruct it into a functional weapon. The weapon has a full metal stock, a tesla coil within its crank housing, and the body of the rifle is attached to a forked barrel resembling that of a Winchester P94 plasma rifle. The tesla coil converts fusion cell ammunition into blue, electric lasers, and when being charged, electricity crackles between the barrel's forks. The firing mechanism is also modified to allow multiple shots, rather than single overcharged shots, though the latter can still be achieved by holding down the trigger after multiple cranks.
For close encounters, Surge uses a sledgehammer, which as of now is mostly unmodified other than some reinforcement to the handle. As well as crushing skulls and collapsing ribcages, it's effective at breaking through barriers and helps with tearing apart scrap metal. He has plans to construct a super sledge with its parts when he can find the appropriate pieces.
To protect himself from bullets and energy attacks alike, Surge employs a suit of armor made from the remains of various robots and scrap metal. On his torso, he wears a modified protectron torso, stripped of paint and widened at the arms to allow him to actually put it on. A pair of armguards made from the same robot cover his forearms. On his shins and thighs, he wears plates that made from vehicular scrap and other robot frames, modified beyond recognizability. Similar plates hang over his waist and stomach. Currently, he has no helmet.
As well as various trinkets held in his belt pouches, he wears a large metal toolbox on his back, attached to the same belts that hold his various pieces of armor on. It contains various tools, powered and otherwise, that he uses for the construction of his machinery. He also has a section used to hold other things, mostly small pieces of possibly useful scrap. Beneath the tool racks, he's stowed a few comic books away for safe keeping.
Other: Surge considers himself a staunch enemy of the Brotherhood of Steel. While he hasn't had encounters with them in quite a while, both their tendency to steal technology and some chapters' strong anti-mutant attitude has left him heavily soured on the entire faction, regardless of differences in ideology. It would take a lot to get him to trust someone from the group.
- Antonia | +
- Name: Antonia
Appearance: Antonia is a tall, athletic human woman of heavily mixed ethnicity. She's nearly six feet even, and has a strong build with very noticeable wiry muscle in her core and arms, slightly more built in her legs due to her tendency to travel by foot and climb. Her skin is a light shade of brown, heavily scarred from both blades and burns, the latter of which cover her collarbone, spine, outer arms, and a ringed section of her thighs. Many small wounds that have healed over the years cover her inner arms, stomach, shins, and back, while a larger one runs down her face and over her right eye. She has a thin face with a strong jaw, angular monolid eyes, and black hair with a texture that led to it growing into thick dreadlocks, kept tied back with a strip of red hide. Her eyebrows are aggressively angled and slightly thick, aside from a missing portion on the right due to her facial scar. The eyes themselves are a robust shade of brown.
For clothing, she wears a complicated ensemble of old-fashioned, obviously tribal attire. The most basic parts of it are simple, consisting of a pair of tight, side-laced shorts that end just above her knee, Roman-style sandals, and a short cropped shirt that compresses her chest somewhat, all made of hide. Above that, she wears the tattered remains of a red toga, the skirt of which is cut to end right above her legs, while the top is held tightly against her midsection by a collection of belts. Among the belts is a canine skull, secured through the eye sockets. A pair of scavenged riding gloves keeps her hands protected, and a red scarf wrapped around her neck at almost all times can be used to disguise her face. Some more hide straps are worn for apparently decorative purpose, on her forearms, elbows, and neck, where they hold beads that are both homemade and scavenged. As a final touch, she usually wears facepaint made of various pigments, her most common pattern being a black smear across her forehead and eyebrows with a red line following her facial scar.
Personality: Stern, serious, and stubborn. Antonia has very little in the way of humor, rarely smiling and focusing entirely on whatever task is at hand while treating it with the utmost importance. While banter may be exchanged with people she's close to and familiar with, when dealing with strangers, she remains quiet unless necessary. Normally, she's very calm, able to keep a level head even in the middle of a chaotic battle, with a strong sense of focus that helps her keep cool at almost all times. While she may at first seem like she's got an impossibly hard exterior, she's really just very collected and sort of shy, in her own sort of way. In a fight, she's supremely efficient, moving from enemy to enemy without any hesitation once she's got a path laid out ahead of her. To her, killing is just another part of life that is unavoidable. A necessity to survive, and a fitting end to many people in the world. That said, she doesn't relish in bloodshed and violence, she just has no qualms about it. Rarely, she may seem to take some sort of satisfaction in the act of battle, but that's generally due to who she's fighting, rather than the act itself.
Certain things that catch her interests can cause her to mellow out, as do certain kinds of people. Children, especially girls, are some of the people who can experience kindness and even happiness from her. For adults, it would take someone she considers an exceptionally close friend to draw that out. She tends to be suspicious of strangers, but given time and proof that one is trustworthy, she'll begin to warm up to them. Antonia is surprisingly pleasant if slightly awkward to those she considers friends, even affectionate, and tends to enjoy including those people in her spiritual activities. A majority of her old tribe's beliefs were thoroughly destroyed, but what little she remembers, she clings to with a vice grip. Prayers and meditations are conducted during times of safety, and given a high amount of trust, she may even create a unique facepaint design for an individual. Given it's one of the last vestiges of tribal knowledge she still retains, to be offered such a thing would be a sign of utmost respect and admiration. She also enjoys the crafting of small trinkets, and offering them to a friend is her way of showing appreciation.
History: Antonia was born under a different name to a tribe that no longer exists. Their name and much of their culture has been mercilessly eradicated from history in a destructive raid by Caesar's Legion, their art burned and crushed, traditions forcibly expunged, and tattoos burned away. Before they were enslaved by the Legion, they were the Rojos, a warlike civilization of wandering hunters. While they were far from peaceful, they did not consider themselves destructive except in extreme cases. Conflict was common for them, but rarely ended in outright eradication of enemy tribes. It was an unsafe lifestyle, but worked well enough for them.
Antonia herself was one of the tribe's warriors. She was renowned for her strength and ferocity, and respected among the tribe's members for her kindness in times of peace, especially towards the tribe's youth. As well as fighting to protect and provide for the tribe, she was beginning to learn their arts, and taught the children that looked up to her how to paint their faces like a proper warrior. Her designs were well respected among the tribe, each one a personalized mark for everyone within it. No two were the same, full of subtle nuances that identified each design as belonging to someone specific.
Life for the tribe was as easy as it could get, until they got in a supply dispute over the region's brahmin population with another, weaker tribe. The Rojos kept them at bay without much trouble, scaring off their hunting parties and occasionally engaging their warriors in combat. The Rojos were stronger, both in bravery and physically, and successfully took the brahmin for themselves from the other tribe. This tribe, the Black Hand, had a reputation for being sneaky and conniving, preferring manipulation to further their goals rather than full conflict. To the Rojos, they were just a group of cowards that would be scared off and never seen again.
Or so they thought. After their failure to take the brahmin, the Black Hand sent assassins to kill the Rojos tribe's hunters, Antonia among them. They successfully wounded two of them fatally, but the assassin group was viciously wiped out and dismembered, their bodies turned into effigies of warning to any further would-be assassins of the Black Hand tribe. For a while, things were quiet again, but the Black Hand had come into contact with Caesar's Legion. They intended to join the Legion, their task to prove they were worthy was to wipe out the Rojos, and they were given support in the form of weaponry in order to do so.
With superior weaponry, the Black Hand came back to Rojos territory and began an extermination. Even outarmed, they fought bravely, Antonia personally slaying close to thirty men on the fateful night. Despite the losses they took, the Black Hand successfully defeated the Rojos, rounding up what remained of them to bring back to the Legion for enslavement. There was little that they could do to resist at that point. With a majority of her people now dead, Antonia was led to the Legion's own encampment. There, they were eached judged by the Centurion leading the group, and those deemed unsatisfactory for warriors were enslaved. Antonia herself, despite having all the qualities of a warrior, was assigned to normal slave duty due to being a woman.
The next few years were full of hardships. Torturous actions were performed on the Rojos to destroy the marks of their culture , heated metal bands wrapped around their skin to burn off their tattoos, beatings upon being found praying, and destruction of all their belongings and art erasing the physical proof of their existence. They were renamed as well, their tribe-given titles replaced with ones chosen by the Centurion. Antonia was furious, and on multiple occasions attacked the slave pen's guards. After enough wounded legionaries, she was sentenced to crucifiction, put on display upon a makeshift cross for three days. They expected her to die, yet she persevered, if just barely.
The Centurion, Severus, was impressed. Antonia was cut down from her cross and offered the position of Severus's concubine. She responded by cutting him across the face, enraging him enough to sentence her to another death in the encampment's fight pit. She wasn't allowed a weapon, instead beaten and thrown in with a pack of unfed hounds. Left there overnight, Severus returned to see the results of the execution, expecting Antonia to be dead. While she was wounded, she'd killed all of the hounds, somehow having decapitated one of them. Severus had her removed from the pit and locked in a personal cell within his quarters. His new assistant, the previous leader of the Black Hand tribe, transported her.
Over the next few months, multiple attempts at execution in the pits were performed. At Severus's whims, she would be thrown in with various monsters rounded up, and eventually other slaves. Antonia killed them all, gaining a reputation among the encampment due to her fierceness in battle. Severus allowed some Legion rules to be bent under his watch, as many legionaries wanted to test their skills against her. To his great amusement, most of them were either outright killed or gravely wounded, at which point they were executed by Severus's assistant for their weakness. Eventually, the assistant himself challenged her to a fight, and came out of it missing a hand. Severus kept him around regardless, due to his intelligence and loyalty.
Severus's amusement with Antonia eventually grew into a twisted infatuation, and watching her fight prompted him to continue to bend established rules for the sake of seeing her battle. Eventually, she was made into a warrior. Some of the legionaries reacted poorly to the idea of a woman fighting alongside them, which Severus alternately justified as her simply being a fighting slave equal to the Legion's mongrels, or by insisting that a warrior of her strength couldn't be considered a woman. Whatever the case, they were far removed enough from the main Legion that Severus had near complete control, and Antonia was elevated from a simple worker to a fully armed warrior who acted alongside the legionaries during supply gathering and road securing missions. She learned many tactics, both for battle and stealth, from Severus's assistant.
Over the years, she learned Legion tactics and refined her combat ability. She stopped assaulting the legionaries after a point, and made the decision to make herself closer to Severus in order to try and influence him. It worked, and she successfully convinced him to lighten the abuse of the slaves in the encampment. It was only a minor respite for most of them, but she found that loyalty to the Centurion led to him being more easily influenced in turn. She despised him, but feigned a mutual interest in his growing infatuation. Antonia was soon a force to be reckoned with, and while her rank remained that of a slave, she commanded more respect than the recruits in their party throughout her years as Severus's slave.
Eventually, news came from the west about a devastating blow done to the Legion within the Mojave. Reports were conflicting, ranging from simple defeat to the outright death of Caesar. Unsure of what was happening, Severus was in a panic. The Legion appeared to be falling apart from all the reports that were being sent in, and the encampment became a place of chaos. Some legionaries deserted, others killed themselves, and others still were convinced that moving into the Mojave to support the main Legion would potentially keep their attempts to claim the territory afloat. Severus, unsure of what to do, turned to Antonia for advice.
She suggested resting and allowing the panic to pass, and the remaining people in the camp eventually agreed to Severus's following order to remain calm and rest until the next day. Severus asked her to sleep with him that night. Afterwards, Antonia remained awake, and slit his throat while he slept. She then systematically made her way through the camp's quarters, murdering every legionary that remained in complete silence. When she reached the old Black Hand leader's quarters, she broke his kneecaps and brutalized him, leaving him alive only to set him on fire after hours of prolonged torture.
With the entire legionary party dead, she freed their slaves and livestock, encouraging them all to go as far from the encampment as possible. Antonia disposed of the armor she wore during her time as a warrior-slave and left the next morning, after watching the entire camp go up in flames and burn away through the night. When it was gone, she began her journey east, seeking the remnants of the encampment to thoroughly eliminate them. So far, she has found and killed three of them, and has tracked the last deserter she knows of, a Vexillarius, to Texas.
While she knows little of the local situation, she has taken an interest in the people. The culture is incredibly foreign from everything she knows of, and despite her reservations with people as a whole, she is interested in learning more. Local tribal groups have become a point of interest for her in particular, though she keeps her primary goal in mind and will stop at nothing to complete it before finally allowing herself to rest.
- S.P.E.C.I.A.L. stats | +
- Strength: 8
Trained both by her own people and during her time in the Legion's fight pits, Antonia has become skilled in the use of melee weaponry. She's used knives, axes, and hammers alike, but has an especially strong preference for bladed weaponry. Her experience in battle has given her knowledge of strike points, breaking through enemy defenses, parrying, disarming, and disorienting her opponents. She can move fast without compromising power behind her strikes, but also knows not to overexert each attack when it isn't necessary. For her throwing weapons, she can aim very precisely and throw quite far, especially with her knives.
Even unarmed, Antonia is dangerous up close. She's a good grappler and has significant strength behind punches and kicks, though her style is a bit sloppier than her swordfighting. Without a weapon, she fights with dirty tactics and brutal attacks. Breaking limbs and attacking vulnerable areas are her go-to when necessary. She can withstand being beaten due to her endurance, and can fight through pain. In particularly dire situations, her bare hands have served as deadly weapons in their own right, though she's especially dangerous when she augments her strikes with weapons, especially those with arm-mounted blades.
While she is a fearsome warrior head on, Antonia is also capable of stealth and agile movement. She's good at sneaking around and making her way through spaces and obstacles others might think are impossible to pass. Most of her skill is simply about moving quickly and quietly, as well as potentially risky climbing. To keep herself quiet and quick, it necessitates foregoing heavier armors, as she can't sneak or move as effectively in those. In less direct combat approaches, she's good at getting places for reconnaissance, out of sight shelter, and when necessary, theft.
Equipment: Antonia's fights up close for the most part. While she's not averse to ranged battle when necessary, her skills definitely lie in physical combat. She owns two primary weapons and a multitude of smaller backup weapons.
Her primary weapon is an old sword made in Legion territory, once owned by the leader of the raiding party that ravaged her tribe. It has a long blade, about four feet, and a curved single-edged blade. The handguard is small and circular, made of a yellowish metal, and the handle is wrapped in leather from a Deathclaw's hide, then further wrapped with a red ribbon of cloth. The blade is in somewhat poor condition nowadays, chipped along the edge and in need of resharpening. When not in use, Antonia keeps it in a wooden sheath, mostly undecorated save for a red cloth tied around the opening.
Her secondary weapon also counts as a piece of armor. On her left arm, she wears a gauntlet made from the claw and carapace of a giant mantis, smooth in texture and a slightly brown-tinged green in colour. To pad the gauntlet, she wears a wrapping of cloth bandage around her forearm when wearing it. It's study and the claw of the mantis has been sharpened to a combat effective edge. It acts in equal parts as a shield and blade for close quarters battle.
Along various parts of her body, she also carries backup weapons for different purposes. Six throwing knives are in her possession, to be reused until they break beyond repair. A trench knife acts as an effective secondary blade if her primary sword is lost or damaged, and usually rests in a sheath on her leg. She knows how to make and use spears and javelins made from simple materials, and while she once had a simple wood bow to shoot stone arrows with, it's since been broken and she has yet to replace it.
She doesn't employ much in the way of proper armor outside of her gauntlet, as she's disposed of her old Legion leathers as soon as she was freed. She isn't opposed to wearing light gear made of leather, but has yet to find any.
Other: Antonia despises Caesar's Legion and all its members. Following the beginning of the Legion's fall, she's made it her personal goal to kill any and all legionaries she finds in her travels, and perhaps one day settle with a new tribe. She also likes dogs, despite bad experiences with them.
- Samantha Vasquez | +
- Name: Samantha Vasquez
Appearance: Samantha is a human woman of Mexican ethnicity, around five foot ten, tall and well-built. Constant training has made her muscles strong, especially in her core, thighs, and arms, while both genetics and a much better diet than your average wasteland survivor softens her up a bit. Her skin is a sunkissed shade of olive, with some scars here and there. Generally, she's been good at not getting hurt, but a few grazes and healed cuts in her midsection and limbs are noticeable. On her face, she has a scar over her mouth that leads to her chin, and another small one on her left cheekbone. Her facial structure is comparable to an inverted triangle, with a less emphasized chin, full lips, high cheekbones, and downturned green eyes topped by thin, low eyebrows. Her hair is kept at a shorter medium length cut with a short fringe, and whenever it gets too shaggy in the back, she keeps it tied back for convenience.
Her usual outfit is her Brotherhood of Steel uniform, a very snug jumpsuit that's reinforced with ballistic weave fibers. The suit is a one-piece ensemble that's mostly black and dull olive green, and has some buckled straps that are meant to hold on armor pieces. The green sections cover the torso, upper arms, and outer thighs, while the inner thighs, forearms, stomach, and rear are all black. The jumpsuit comes with almost knee-high boots and a pair of gloves, almost always worn alongside it. When not using armor, Samantha enjoys accessorizing a bit with scarves, a jackets, and for comfort's sake, unzipping the suit down to about her stomach. She wears a sleeveless black crop top underneath it.
Personality: Samantha is loud, quick-tempered, and very confident in herself. Too confident, if you talk to some of her peers. She enjoys getting thrills however she can, whether it's messing around in restored vehicles or in the midst of battle. Whether it's as simple as a sparring match in a ring or as chaotic as a full-blown firefight, chances are she's having a hell of a time doing it. That said, she's not stupid about picking her battles, but she does tend to put a bit too much faith in her ordinance and skill. Pragmatism in a fight is a strong suit of hers against dangerous foes, and collateral damage is less of a concern than getting the job done. This has gotten her something of a reputation of being inefficient, and one that isn't undeserved. She's got a bit of a hot head and a snarky mouth, and has some problems with authority and criticism. With the right company, this can make her a fun person to be around and get along with. With others, it paints her as an immature rookie who only cares about blowing **** up instead of the mission's actual goal.
Despite her firey temperament, she does have her heart in the right place, if not her head. Brotherhood teachings have given her aspects of the worldview that the midwestern chapter holds, not as xenophobic as the west coast, but not as cushy as the east coast used to be either. She holds no hatred for mutants that don't cause people trouble, though she does have some problems with sensitivity around them. It's not so much an actual dislike as it is a result of growing up in a somewhat sheltered environment with rare contact with post-humans. She's also not in it purely for the tech hoarding, and greatly enjoys the protector aspect that the chapter takes for territories that it holds. Above all else, she has a strong desire to be important and make a difference, and to have somebody look up to her with the same idolization she gave the chapter's high ranking knights. To make the wasteland a safer place for everyone is her aspiring dream.
History: Like most members of the Brotherhood of Steel's Midwest chapter, Samantha was born into the organization. Her parents were both scribes of different careers, one an engineer and the other a keeper of records. The Brotherhood of the midwest had diverged greatly from the original west coast chapter, accepting outsiders and even non-humans into its ranks after establishing themselves as a solid presence in Chicago. As the Brotherhood spread through the Midwest, it eventually picked up Samantha's mother from a small settlement in Kansas that had been under raider attack. In the Brotherhood, she met Samantha's father, and eventually had two children, Samantha and her older brother Carlos.
Throughout their childhood, they were taught in the ways of the Brotherhood, trained in various skills necessary to function in their own society. They were extremely close, working together on almost everything once Samantha was old enough to start learning what Carlos did. She was a natural, and as the two became old enough to choose a direction in life to begin properly training for, they both decided that they wanted to be Paladins. Through their teenage years and young adulthood, they were given proper military training. By age 16, Samantha was an Initiate, and by 20, she'd become a Squire, whereas Carlos was a Junior Knight.
The two were an inseperable and highly efficient force on the battlefield. Samantha found herself enjoying combat, especially the thrill of explosive ordinance being used. Destroying monsters and making the world safer for innocents went hand in hand as a strong motivator for her, and while her style was quite destructive, it served her squad well. Her group was assigned a mission to recover a high-priority person of interest somewhere in Missouri, and due to the importance of the mission, it was offered as a test to achieve the rank of Knight to all the members of the squad. Samantha in particular was incredibly excited for it, as it was the first time the group would be allowed to use power armor. Once they were fully geared up, they were deployed to St. Louis, where the incoming communications had most recently come from.
Their priority target was the communicator and their group, a ragtag gathering of survivors that were once part of the Enclave. Both east coast and west coast members had congregated in the midwest, hoping to eke out some sort of existence within the city long after the falls of each of their groups. Time and a lack of resources had taken its toll, and they'd fallen under attack by a massive raiding party of Super Mutants. A Brotherhood patrol had picked up their distress call, deciding to mobilize into the city in order to rescue them and hopefully procure some new technologies. After Samantha's group had geared up fully, they were driven into the city before deploying on foot.
Samantha and Carlos proved to be incredibly effective ground soldiers when fully armored up, and along with their squad, they cut a swath through the Super Mutant's territory, opening up a clear path to escape through once their targets were picked up. As they got nearer the building, the chances of a complete success became far too clear, and Samantha allowed herself to get cocky. She failed to notice the damage her armor was taking, instead tanking hits as if she were invincible despite concern from the others. She was sure she'd be fine. Eventually, she was proved not to be, as her armor's exterior layer had been broken down enough by a rocket explosion to expose her suit's fusion core, which was in turn damaged enough to cause a meltdown.
With her suit threatening to violently explode at any moment, Samantha made a split-second decision to try and get behind the enemy line and ditch the suit, essentially bombing them with it. Before she could, Carlos grabbed the damaged frame, tore it open, and threw Samantha out of it, saving her from the explosion that followed not a few moments later. He also survived, albeit extremely heavily wounded. The explosion scared the mutants off, allowing their pickup to come in close and take everyone back to their base. Carlos was treated while the rescued targets divulged information and technology as they had promised. News of Samantha's failures spread quickly throughout the Brotherhood's authority, and as she cost them two suits of power armor and nearly multiple lives, her rank was stripped and she was demoted down to an Initiate once again.
Carlos survived, losing both of his legs and his left hand as well as being burned over 60% of his body. At first, a fissure was torn in his relationship with Samantha as he was recovering through the trauma, but the two slowly began to reconcile over a period of two years. While Samantha continued her field work, albeit mostly simple missions that were hard to cause trouble in, Carlos became a Scribe instead of a Knight. There is still a very present strain in all of Samantha's relationships in the Brotherhood, but she's been working hard to try and make up for her past mistakes.
After the Brotherhood began to move into Texas, lured by promises of a technological wonderland and an undersea Enclave base in the Gulf of Mexico, Samantha has began to see it as a new chance to prove that she was worth more than her failures. At her request, she was deployed on a solo mission to gather small caches of technology, but she's got her eyes on Houston.
- S.P.E.C.I.A.L. stats | +
- Strength: 6
Samantha's best skill in combat is her handling of explosive weaponry. Whether thrown, placed, or fired from a weapon, she's good at using them both against enemies and for environmental manipulation. Mines and grenades are her most commonly used explosive weapons, but grenade launchers and rocket launchers are both things she enjoys using when the opportunity arises. Outside of causing explosions, she's also good at stopping them, and is capable of disarming most commonly used explosive traps without much trouble. When it comes to it, she's capable of making her own bombs as well, though the quality can vary greatly depending on what she's got on hand.
As using only explosives isn't very practical, Samantha has also been trained in the use of more traditional modern firearms. Her area of expertise is limited to that of smaller weapons of a mid to short range effectiveness, like pistols, submachineguns, and assault rifles. She's used heavier machine guns before, but prefers to stick to things with easier handling, and has only ever used extremely heavy weaponry in the form of mounted turrets. She prefers things with high ammo capacity and automatic fire when possible, valuing the ability to give cover fire more than extreme accuracy, though she's by no means a bad shot.
Life in the Brotherhood has given Samantha a natural knack for building and repairing technology. While she knows little of the actual artificial intelligence coding process, she's put together robots, maintained power armor, fixed turrets, and generally worked with machinery all her life. She can keep things in good condition for longer than expected with skilled regular maintenance and makeshift replacement parts. For more mundane purposes, she also knows a good bit about plumbing and gas piping, though it's not really a field skill so much as useful work to offer at settlements.
Equipment: Samantha carries a simple but effective loadout when deployed on missions. During long field expeditions, she sometimes gears up differently, actively preparing for long journeys instead of short excursions. One thing remains constant, her use of both kinetic firearms and explosives.
Her main rifle is an R91 assault rifle, which can fire either 5.56mm or .223 cartridges and any variants of them. The rifle has typical wood furniture, though the stock and grip are both notably more well-polished than the typical R91 sighting out in the wasteland, and she uses extended magazines for extra ammo capacity. It has a firing mode switch, capable of going between single shot, three round burst, and full auto modes. Besides that, it isn't especially notable in any way.
As a sidearm, Samantha carries an N99 10mm pistol in a leg holster. It has a long barrel modification, giving it the characteristic blockiness of the model, as well as an ergonomic grip of synthetic material. A reflex sight atop the slide offers extra accuracy when aiming. The gun's metal parts are all polished and chemically blackened, and the sights have a red circular reticle. It's capable of being suppressed with the right attachments, but Samantha doesn't much care for stealth.
Around her body, a belt of various grenades are carried for when things start to get messy, or just when things seem like they need to be exploded. She carries mostly fragmentation grenades, six at a time, and alternates between plasma, EMP, and incendiary grenades depending on mission. On long journeys, she tends to restock with handmade fragmentation grenades and molotov cocktails when available. Mines aren't commonly carried, but collected and used on the field when possible.
Rather than a backpack, she wears a harness alongside combat armor to carry her gear with her in easy-to-reach positions. Her ammo magazines are holstered along her abdomen on the harness, while the grenades are positioned along her hips to keep them out of enemy sight. Various other pouches are filled with medical supplies like stimpacks and med-x, repair tools, and a radio for contacting the Brotherhood. Her armor is typical military combat armor of a medium weight class, consisting of a chestplate and shoulder guards, hip and groin plates, shinguards and knee guards, armguards, and a helmet with goggles. The armor is a dark grey gunmetal colour, and the Brotherhood of Steel logo has been painted on the chest in white. When on long solo journeys, she lightens her load to only the torso armor and wears a long coat above it.
Other: Samantha is often sent on solo missions with the goal of supply gathering and reconaissance. While she valiantly does the work, she is fully aware that it's mostly been a punishment for her past failures to keep her away from important missions. She's not in the best standing with her chapter, but still supports them in their goals.
- notes | +
Last edited by Eggsy on Wed Feb 08, 2017 4:06 am, edited 5 times in total.