Everything i know...i could start another war if i was so inclined.- The Muted Man

Strength: No one truly knows.

Aim/Objectives: To gain information for the aims of the Muted Man
History: The silence is the coined term for a number of people in various factions and positions that have all been bribed by the mysterious "Muted Man" to pass information to him pertaining to factions and individuals that they might be working for.

Workings: The Muted Man has contacts of contacts observe and approach people whom he wishes to bribe. If they accept, he pays them in caps, weapons and promises, making them into another "contact" If they refuse, he leaves them alone, if they are lucky. More likely he spreads rumors about said person working for the silence anyway, making their name mud and putting them in immediate danger. He also does this to a "contact" who is attempting to leave, although he tries to keep this as rare as possible.

With the information, the muted man usually sits on it until it is needed. He spreads rumors, blackmails and otherwise manipulates others for his own bidding. No one knows who the Muted man is. Therefore, he has become a figure of both fear and awe for all who know about him, even the contacts.

NAME - Steeple Chase

AGE - 146

GENDER - Male

APPEARANCE - Steeple stands at 6'2, with narrow shoulders and a muscle bound physique, wrapped in scar flecked, milky white skin. On top of his head he has a coarse rug of hay yellow hair, short at the back and on the sides but long on top, combed to the right. He has a narrow head with a well defined, angular jaw and thin lips that always appear to be pursed; on the right side of his neck, he has tattooed the cog shape of a vault door with 121 at its center, just under which he had his Vault ID number tattooed in. Over top his body, he wears the remains of a vault suit, the trouser and belt parts mostly intact but the top, torso covering area, significantly tattered; so he ties that portion around his waist, with the knotted sleeves dangling from his belt buckle, substituting the missing torso clothing, he wears a vault 121 t-shirt, wit the numbers boldly printed in yellow on the back. Stuffed into the back of his trousers, he has a blued .32 revolver and at his left he has a combat knife. However Steeple is no average guy, his entire left side is ghoulified, pale, thin skin draped over wasted, mottled muscle; the skin is slightly translucent and torn in some places, it doesn't appear to be fully attached to the flesh below, leaving areas that are loose and pliable and easy to tear off, hence the reason he has flappy patches of torn skin revealing angry, red muscle.

PERSONALITY - Steeple is a cocky and headstrong young man, who believes he can take on the world and whatever armor it is wearing. He often makes brash decisions and often comes out holding the short straw, but he bounces back just as fast and might just succeed the next time. He takes offense quickly and is often ready with a comeback, having studied you prior to a conversation, he may not always succeed but bless the boy, he plans. Though he is questionable in terms of how he perceives himself and others, he understand that when it comes down to business, he can’t slip up, saving mistakes for his personal endeavors and not when it comes to money. During jobs, he is often serious and highly irritable, wanting everything to go exactly as planned under threat of storming off and brooding. He is a gambling man, often taking risks by accepting impossible jobs and betting on impossible odds because he “had a feeling” and often against people who are much more powerful than himself. Though he would look like the person who would disrespect you in an instant, he has decent manners to those he feels deserving of them but not for those he has issues with. Apart from that, he knows how to have a good time, being a great person to be around when he's in a good mood.

FACTION - None Affiliated (Leans towards The Order)

BIOGRAPHY - Chase was born in vault 121, one of the few vaults that were actually meant to save people, to his drunk of a mother and a father of whom he had never met, as he died prior to Steeple being born. From the onset of his life it seemed that he was going grow up, live and die in the vault, If the mandatory tattoo on his neck wasn't enough evidence, he didn't know what was. But other then that life was normal, or as normal as life in a subterranean fallout shelter could be. Though at 10, his life started taking a turn for the worst; on his tenth birthday he wasn't presented with a PipBoy as others had been, there were none left in stock, instead he was given a pen and a book and was sent off to begin with his first vault responsibilities completely and utterly miserable. Life after that point was hell, he was the target of all the other children's malice, they poked fun at him for not having a PIPboy.. Or a father.

Years passed though, scars opened and closed but one thing was constant, his mother's sorrow. She had been utterly miserable, even a child could see that, the death of his father - her lover - had never left her. After he was old enough to care for himself, at the age of 14 or so, she had dropped mothering all together, instead favoring the bitter rim of acrid, home brewed alcohol. His childhood and young adult life was a depressed mess of disappointment and caring for his mother. Upon reaching 16 years of age he sat the GOAT, the Generalized Occupational Aptitude Test, "You can't fail this." he recalled his teacher telling him but the outcome sure did feel like a failure. Maintenance, where they put those who were good at nothing, he reported downstairs the very next day and his bad luck chanced by him once more. Steeple and the other apprentices were stood in front of a large projector screen, as the instructor explained something; as he stood, he caught fragments of a whispered conversation from behind him. His blood went cold. Apparently the two had taken a route that took them past his and his mother's quarters and had heard a commotion inside. Slowly he turned and started to push his way through throng of his peers, his instructor noticed and ordered him to get back into line, he kept pushing until he was out and dashed to his room. His mother was inside, yelling and struggling against the restraining grip of a large man; in fear and rage Steeple didn't think, picking up a pencil he and lunged at the man, pushing the sharpened implement into the man's back.

Eventually the man died and Jingo was in big trouble, he was held in solitary for months and when he was released for his disciplinary hearing he was greeted with bad news. He had to leave the vault, 'we can't have a menace like you continue to be among us.' They told him before unceremoniously shoving him out of the vault. At first he found it hard to cope he was crippled with fear but slowly, over weeks, that fear turned to resentment and that to anger. He didn't last long in the wasteland, after a few months he had gotten into trouble with some unsavory types and they were after his head for not paying his tab; they chased him into a pre-war power plant where they snuffed him out, shooting him and dumping his body into a waste vat.

Though that wasn't the end of the story.

He woke up with a groan to find himself still alive, walking out he caught a glimpse of himself in a reflective surface and began flailing and screaming in anger. He was a ghoul. After a hundred years, all his anger and hate simmered down into a dull throb, everyone he knew in the vault were now dead, replaced by their descendants and the people who ghoulified him were also most likely dead. He had no one to get revenge on.. So why bother?

S.P.E.C.I.A.L - [40 points - Maximum of 10]

STRENGTH - 4
PERCEPTION - 8
ENDURANCE - 9
CHARISMA - 3
INTELLIGENCE - 5
AGILITY - 9
LUCK - 2

OTHER -

PERKS -
- Iron Fists
- Awareness
- Party Boy