You gotta always have that one person who brings out that weird obscure lore and you're like, jeee I love this guy.
Truth, I love obscure lore.
Also, @TheRedWatcher it could be a little awkward only because you are not the GM, so you having a character predicting the "future" could make the story hard to manage. Just my opinion.
Also, @TheRedWatcher it could be a little awkward only because you are not the GM, so you having a character predicting the "future" could make the story hard to manage. Just my opinion.
Psykers are well established in the Fallout universe. And they all do not have the ability to tell the future. They have shown a range of abilities.
Just needs a final revise tomorrow and tie up loose ends with a backstory.
Elizabeth Smith
Bets - Betty - Liz
Age: 22
Gender: Girl
Occupation: Trailblazer, Chem Dealer.
Sexuality: Betty usually says, “Y’all mind your business. I have no time to worry about it.”
Nationality: Ancestors were German immigrants in pre-war New York, briefly raised in the south by her chem addict parents.
Race: As human as one can be, being a child of addicts, and the radiation, after all.
Karma: Chaotic neutral
Faction Allegiance: None, has done some work for caps in the past
Appearance:
She has long blonde hair, that can be found tucked underneath her cap, or in a neat pony tail. With stern eyebrows; full lips, sharp blue eyes, and a straight nose.
It fully reinforces that immediate stereotype of the pompous rich girl, yet her outfits typically say otherwise. In a pinch, anything that is lightweight, comfortable, or practical will do. Usually, she wears her cap, strapped with a couple spare bullets tucked between its elastic band. Alongside that, a light and durable brown duster, and underneath sporting any clean, blouses or tank tops. Black pants of any kind are her favorite, prefers a good pair of tight jeans. Shoes are come and go; warm socks are her biggest worry. Yuck, no boots. Thin and agile, but not the best at keeping quiet. Likes to be clean but not afraid to get dirty (no not like that). Betty doesn’t mind messes or the grime, she just loves to be clean as she can be after the fact.
Some big pictures, just FYI
Skills: Small guns, Any .308 rifle, most wastelanders would kill for one. The best there is, in her opinion. While Betty loves a good hefty rifle; they are heavy, loud, and sometimes just over the top. She can wield a pistol just fine. Nothing fancy, but she has fair aim. Unarmed, while bullets and energy cells can be sparse, your body is always there. Don’t lose your limbs! She has a practice with unarmed combat, although straying away from pure unarmed techniques, she prefers brass knuckles. Her pair, worn almost religiously, are made from steel, the impact zone of the knuckles have a spike on for each of ringlets, thus causing bleeding and blunt force. The spikes, about 0.5 inches (roughly 2 cm) along with the impact zone of the knuckles themselves are scratched and worn, showing they have been used before. Charisma, growing up as “maid”, for the jet dealers of the southeast. She was always interacting with men and women of all types. She thinks she can read people well, and knows when to speak and when not to. Virtually a glorified slave, she was forced to do a lot of things. Frequently it took a sharp mouth and an even sharper mind to deal with the constant looks and moves, made by the guests of the chem kingpins. Medicine, none of that sewing and cutting business, leave that for the skilled hands of a doctor. Betty knows chems. Her parents did them, her employer sold them, her services as a maid required lots of interaction with people under the influence of them. Knowledge of anything from the simple healing power of the stimpak, to the surge of energy and strength from Buffout. As for real medical expertise, find someone else.
Personality: Rigid, unless there’s a fair point, it’ll take some persuasion if she isn’t up for it. Realistic, knows that not everything always works in her favor, surviving is about adapting. Cold and abrasive, like a good can of Cram, she takes a while to warm up. Her abrasive and attitude come from a hard childhood that taught her to stay quiet and never talk. She is still like that, but has rebelled as much as possible. Clashing with authority, abuse and twisted morals have left a broken young woman that wishes things were different but is smart enough to realize that it cannot be.
Brief History: Like all other unplanned babies, Betty was born in a trashy tradepost, her young and unmarried parents were hooked on Jet and Rad-X. Tiny and weak, they sold her to their dealer for a good chunk of money. Raised then till she was 17 as a maid. She was healthy, but even with the food and shelter, it was not worth it, the people were horrible, she was treated as a worthless slave and only taught to work and nurse all the poor wretched people who showed up on the doorstep, of one of the biggest chem operations south of the capitol. As it became progressively worse, she started doing a lot of chems herself. Realizing that she was in a bad place, and owned nothing, Betty left one late evening. Pretending to be charmed by one of the many guardsmen, leading him back to her room where she gave him a Nuka-Cola with left over med-x, enough to cause a fatal overdose. With the man out cold withing seconds, she took his weapons and gear, spiked knuckles, a 9mm with 20 rounds, some jet, and 5 stimpaks, and most importantly his keys. Unlocking her door, she crept from her maid chambers, which were located behind the main estate, out into the woods. Running as fast as she could, hearing sirens minutes later, but by that time, she was off the property. Thus starting her time traveling and surviving. Now after about 5 years of grueling hard work, she has fair experience in the wastes. Betty thinks knows her way around, she knows her skills. Meeting and talking with passing traders, mercenaries and even a few odd jobs to larger factions. The caps and experience have helped fill her empty heart. After recently selling her most recent goods and buying some provisions, she set out for new land. With her spiked knuckles on her hands, and a bag of the basics on her back. Betty headed further north than she had before. Blazing her own path into new, unknown territory.
@Lunar Not gonna lie that is the least amount of effort put in a character I have ever seen. Sorry to be a dick about it but it just shows. If you look at the other chars here it is pretty clear.
I like him. It's unique. I always enjoy someone willing to go outside the box. Instead of your typical raider. I want to see him in this RP. And will beat Laika with a stick if he isn't. Fleabite's cool. Can't wait to see his skills and history.
Yeah, I agree so I fixed it up a bit. If it's still under developed I'd appreciate if you gave me specific things I need to go a bit more depth into or polish. . . . . .
5.9ft
Name: Lesley
Age: 22 or so.
Gender: female.
Occupation: professional 'sacker'
Sexuality: heterosexual.
Nationality: Caucasian.
Race: human.
Karma: Neutral.
Faction Allegiance: none
Skills*: small guns, mele wepons, sneak, and repair.
Brief History: Sam was born and raised in a experimental and un finished military vault designed to specially train and recreate a military force in that area after the bombs fall. On Aprill 21'st the valt's systems began too fail and the life support systems went offline, trapping all inhabitants inside. After a few days of trying to get the vault door open the people in the vault began too died off until there were only a few left. It just so happened that Lesley and the few other survivors found some explosives in storage but due too the vault never being completely finished the structural integrity was diminishing, setting off these explosives could trap them in for good or worse kill them from debris. As a group they all decided they would blow the explosives against a week part of the door. Once the smoke cleared she found the door blown open just enough for her and the others to get out but as they thought the room wouldn't hold much longer.
The group of them all rushed through the opening to the outside she had heard so much about not having enough time to grab any equipment except the suits they were wearing and the knife one of the survivors had on their belt. As they rushed into the sunlight, there eyes in pain from the unwelcome beams of light. As the group finaly adjusted too the light they looked back at the collapsed cave opening and noticed the crushed body of a comrade and the faded yellow letters 145 on the blast door, there were three of them now, two of them girls. After that the group learned of the surface worlds imperfections and treacheries, slavers killed the only male of the group and attempted to capture Lesley and the other girl but they escaped from there grasp. Soon enough it was just her, the other girl turned into a ghoul and parted ways with Lesley. After being alone for so long she had too harden herself mentally, emotionally, and physically. She began trying too keep her kind, happy, and carting side buried beneath her armor but it sliped out sometimes.
Equipment: clothing and 'armor' from picture(s), gas mask, two katana's, a hatchet, as well as knives hidden around clothing. She carries a
For Holding ammo, medical supplies, food, etc.
A large Revolver firing 8 rounds per cylinder.
A long range rifle firing a .50 caliber bullet and holding 8 rounds per magazine.
A small and rapid firing sub machine gun with thirty bullets per magazine.