Alright, I'll lay claim to that, then!
Time for work. See you guys later!
Don't forget the discord! We're all in there now!
[OOC] ~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard ~ Page 6
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GM
Jeep Wrangler VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Banned
Seen
1 mo ago
Don't forget the discord! We're all in there now!
AtomicNut Abusive Contractor
Member
Seen
1 day ago
Leaving the Rp.
"I've got your back!"
Name
Zacary "Zac" Ward
Gender
Male
Age
18, January 9th 1896EC
Sexuality
Heterosexual
Race
Verviers, Delfzijl, United Kingdom of Edinburgh
Appearance
Usually with an easy grin on his face, Zac tends to exude a calm, friendly air about him. He normally wears his fatigues with the jacket open, exposing the white t-shirt beneath. He usually has a light stubble on his jaw and always wears a necklace with a pendant shaped like a celtic knot, a gift given to him by his father before he left for war. He speaks with the lilting accent endemic to people from the Delfzijl isle.
Height
5'8"
Personality
Zacary Ward is the kind of person that always seems happy and rarely lets things get to him. He does what he can to help others and will always be there to back up his friends, whether back to back, by their side, or from behind the scope of his rifle. There are few things he values more in his life than the lives of his friends and family.
Rank
Private
Role
Marksman
Equipment
Basic Marksman gear (i.e. Scoped SM-Longfield rifle, canteen, etc.)
Potentials
Calm Heart: While normally gregarious and unable to sit still for too long, while in the field, Zac is capable of exhibiting long periods of patience, waiting for the perfect shot.
Child of Nature: Having been born and raised in the woodlands outside of Verviers, Delfzijl, where he hunted with his father and played with his siblings, Zac had practically become part of nature. Not only is he more comfortable out in the wild, but he can also tell when something isn't right by listening to the sounds of nature.
Adaptable: Things rarely go according to plan and Zac understands this. As such, he makes it a point to be able to roll with the punches and think fluidly, letting him overcome challenges and obstacles, no matter what surprises may lay in wait.
Biography
Zac was born as the second child to Sean, a carpenter and hunter, and Elain Ward, a seamstress. While they weren't outrageously rich, they made enough to afford a comfortable living out in the woods, where it would be easier for Sean to gather the materials he would need for his craft, though not too far from town, making it a simple matter to buy other goods they might have needed.
The Ward children, meanwhile, were as close as could be. Zac and Elain looked up to their older brother, Colin, who in turn adored his younger siblings. The three were inseparable, at least until the three of them had started school. However, even as life progressed and they started playing together less and less, the three Ward children were as close as could be. Then, the war started.
When the war started in 1911, Colin, having just turned 17, convinced his parents to let him enlist when he turned 18, wanting to do his part in protecting his family and country. Soon after, he was sent to the frontline, keeping contact with his parents and siblings through his letters. Until, that is, the letters stopped coming. Several weeks later, they received one more letter, but not from Colin. Inside was a letter informing them that Colin had gone missing after a particularly grueling battle and, having had no word from him, he was presumed dead.
The Wards were devastated...except for Zac. It was a feeling he had that he couldn't shake, but he just knew his brother couldn't be dead. So, like Colin before him, he tried to convince his parents to let him enlist, but was promptly denied, Sean and Elaine unwilling to let another of their children risk their life. However, he didn't give up and was able to get their blessing by the time he had turned 18. One tearful goodbye later, Zac was heading for the front line.
Affiliations
Sean Ward: Father (48)
Elaine Ward: Mother (46)
Aislin Ward: Sister (17)
Colin Ward: Brother (20 - MIA, presumed dead)
Relationships
TBD
GM
Jeep Wrangler VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Banned
Seen
1 mo ago
"I've got your back!"
Name
Zacary "Zac" Ward
Gender
Male
Age
18, January 9th 1896EC
Sexuality
Heterosexual
Race
Verviers, Delfzijl, United Kingdom of Edinburgh
Appearance
Usually with an easy grin on his face, Zac tends to exude a calm, friendly air about him. He normally wears his fatigues with the jacket open, exposing the white t-shirt beneath. He usually has a light stubble on his jaw and always wears a necklace with a pendant shaped like a celtic knot, a gift given to him by his father before he left for war. He speaks with the lilting accent endemic to people from the Delfzijl isle.
Height
5'8"
Personality
Zacary Ward is the kind of person that always seems happy and rarely lets things get to him. He does what he can to help others and will always be there to back up his friends, whether back to back, by their side, or from behind the scope of his rifle. There are few things he values more in his life than the lives of his friends and family.
Rank
Private
Role
Marksman
Equipment
Basic Marksman gear (i.e. Scoped SM-Longfield rifle, canteen, etc.)
Potentials
Calm Heart: While normally gregarious and unable to sit still for too long, while in the field, Zac is capable of exhibiting long periods of patience, waiting for the perfect shot.
Child of Nature: Having been born and raised in the woodlands outside of Verviers, Delfzijl, where he hunted with his father and played with his siblings, Zac had practically become part of nature. Not only is he more comfortable out in the wild, but he can also tell when something isn't right by listening to the sounds of nature.
Adaptable: Things rarely go according to plan and Zac understands this. As such, he makes it a point to be able to roll with the punches and think fluidly, letting him overcome challenges and obstacles, no matter what surprises may lay in wait.
Biography
Zac was born as the second child to Sean, a carpenter and hunter, and Elain Ward, a seamstress. While they weren't outrageously rich, they made enough to afford a comfortable living out in the woods, where it would be easier for Sean to gather the materials he would need for his craft, though not too far from town, making it a simple matter to buy other goods they might have needed.
The Ward children, meanwhile, were as close as could be. Zac and Elain looked up to their older brother, Colin, who in turn adored his younger siblings. The three were inseparable, at least until the three of them had started school. However, even as life progressed and they started playing together less and less, the three Ward children were as close as could be. Then, the war started.
When the war started in 1911, Colin, having just turned 17, convinced his parents to let him enlist when he turned 18, wanting to do his part in protecting his family and country. Soon after, he was sent to the frontline, keeping contact with his parents and siblings through his letters. Until, that is, the letters stopped coming. Several weeks later, they received one more letter, but not from Colin. Inside was a letter informing them that Colin had gone missing after a particularly grueling battle and, having had no word from him, he was presumed dead.
The Wards were devastated...except for Zac. It was a feeling he had that he couldn't shake, but he just knew his brother couldn't be dead. So, like Colin before him, he tried to convince his parents to let him enlist, but was promptly denied, Sean and Elaine unwilling to let another of their children risk their life. However, he didn't give up and was able to get their blessing by the time he had turned 18. One tearful goodbye later, Zac was heading for the front line.
Affiliations
Sean Ward: Father (48)
Elaine Ward: Mother (46)
Aislin Ward: Sister (17)
Colin Ward: Brother (20 - MIA, presumed dead)
Relationships
TBD
Great CS! I'll accept it! Just put the whole thing in its own overall hider too and place it in the tab.
GM
Jeep Wrangler VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Banned
Seen
1 mo ago
"We may leave as allies tonight, but tomorrow I cannot guarantee that either of us will hold such a truce."
Name
Wilhelm 'Green Fox' Von Harkvald
Gender
Male
Age
35 Years, 10 Months - December 15th, 1879EC
Sexuality
Heterosexual
Race
Imperial - Schwartzgrad
Appearance
When a man holds the title of Green Fox, it is only common sense for his followers and all that hear about him to expect a sly and cunning looking fellow. Wilhelm definitely holds that sort of admiration towards himself, making sure his appearance somewhat compliments the name he was given. Wilhelm himself isn't that muscular nor is he too tall for his age, but one thing that sets him apart is his strangely colourless eyes that almost colourise the rest of the world around him, making even the muddiest of trenches look like a flower patch in comparison to that crystal gaze. Though his looks aren't complimentary to his personality and are more akin to his role within the Imperial Armed Forces, Wilhelm still tries to preserve his original self with somewhat neatly made hair and the perfect clean shave he could muster in the times of need.
In terms of his uniform, which is, however, infamously different to that of the regular Imperial soldier. Being one of the first in the entirety of EW1 to adopt a more sophisticated camouflage pattern on his primary uniform, it's harder to properly make out the man in the field of combat. However, once he is seen, it is very easy to depict that he holds importance, charm and integrity to the war he approaches the frontlines. Depending on the environment and season, of course, the patterned uniform is subject to change and altering based on his own wardrobe of multi-camouflage attires on standby. Whilst his uniform and patterns may change, one thing always remains the same: The alias given by both the Federation and Imperials alike.
Personality
There are two sides to Wilhelm; one is the honest truth about his personality whilst the other remains the more common folklore surrounding his deadliness and unwavering talent. Starting on the latter, most of whom include his allies as well as his foes, see him as a Maestro of the Bullet. Without a falter in his talent, undoubtedly, Wilhelm is thought to be a rather heartless and cunning individual who constantly works towards outsmarting his prey in vicious manners. Those who had survived his encounters had told tales of his ruthless benevolence to combat. Squads and leaders had fallen under his accuracy and instantly take him for a sociopathic killing machine that the Imperials had struck up in an intense training programme. However, it couldn't be further from the truth. Outside of his infamous image, both back in the Imperial homelands and the Federation, Wilhelm is a rather pleasant individual. There is not a single bullet he's fired where he felt no remorse for those at the receiving end, but his necessary beliefs to ending the war through participation keep him going. One of the most painful things he feels is how the distance between him and the enemy detaches him from the reality of the killing, yet he still conforms to such swiftness. Without a doubt, he is patient, however, and will wait days in a single spot if he had to. Some of his superiors have warned him about his friendliness with the enemy and sympathising agenda towards all who suffer from the war, but with his immense popularity and great propoganda-like image, Wilhelm cannot exactly be removed from the army without angering the news outlets who feed off of his success.
Rank
Captain
Role
Marksman - Elite Designated Marksman, No Regiment, Said to be in a EW1 Special Operations programme known as OXF.
Biography
Wilhelm has always kept one thing clear throughout his years, and that is that his past is something to be forgotten. There are no proven records of his past life before he joined the army during several uprisings in the Southern Sea-front theatre predating EW1. When island-atoll nations tried to secure independence through terrorism and an attempted assassination against the Emperor at the time, Wilhelm seemingly popped out of nowhere as a fresh recruit and instantly demonstrated an almost uncanny ability to shoot with accuracy. However, due to the low demand of the role, he was stuck as a basic infantryman for the duration of the Rebellion Crisis and was to serve on the frontlines with his fellow comrades. No one really knew how to talk to him, but all his regimental comrades at the time all agreed that he was a pleasant individual who was compassionate and almost charming in the way he spoke. He was constantly visited by the field-nurses on a regular basis and had built his own small following simply from being on the frontline, however it was where he truly showed his skill in marksmanship that garnered the great attention he needed.
Wilhelm was reported to have assassinated the Leader of Black Paw, a strange terrorism group hiding away on one of the many atolls in the Southern Seas of the Empire. The mission was supposed to be a frontal assault with amphibious landings, however the Imperials suffered casualties in the triple digits, 531 to be exact, with a full on retreat being ordered. However, as a reported maverick aiming to impress by all means, quite literally, Wilhelm continued to move forward when the retreat was called. He saw that their chance of victory was so narrowly close that he had to act upon it. With the help of two other soldiers, he managed to bypass the evacuation and terrorist defences and got himself into a high position, where he waited for a day with an iron-sighted Imperial rifle until the man showed his face for a few seconds. Days later, he became a national icon and was awarded greatly for his ingenuity and honourable bravery. Many praised him, however unlike most heroes he was not going to fade into the distant future.
Having proven himself as a skilled marksman, Wilhem was entered into a Specialised Programme simply titled OXF. Its specific meaning and abbreviation was intentionally kept under classification as to not give away its intentions at breeding and training the perfect soldiers, yet Wilhelm simply didn't mind. It consisted of more days of practising his aim, flirting with the local women and simply becoming a national icon. Everyone was becoming acutely aware of the tensions arising between both the Federation and the Empire, and thus once he graduated from the programme Wilhelm was immediately given the commissioned rank of Captain, and was told to have served directly beneath the Emperor for a duration of the arm's race. Several classified missions later, he resurfaced and joined the Imperial Army officially once more in 1911EC.
It was within the second year where the Federation became aware of his presence. Having successfully killed 14 major officers and commanding staff in the Federation frontlines and headquarters, including an apparent mission into Edinburgh (though these are only rumours), he became known as the Green Fox when his full clothing and patternised uniform was witnessed by a man who survived the encounter with him in the first place: Alexander-John Middleton. Despite this name, being used as a compliment and an insult with some respect dug within it, he continued to respect both his own troops and the opposing force, until he was ordered to head to his most effective defensive spot. And thus, he was to station himself in Amone.
Affiliations
Mother - Unknown
Father - Unkonwn
Theme Song
Upcoming NPC "boss" later in the Siege of Amone.
Brithwyr Primus inter Pares
Member
Seen
3 mos ago
So... is there still room in this, or have I missed my shot?
GM
Jeep Wrangler VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Banned
Seen
1 mo ago
So... is there still room in this, or have I missed my shot?
No no, there's almost always room for the RP! I'll give you the discord link too!
discord.gg/HFy8ZyQ
Brithwyr Primus inter Pares
Member
Seen
3 mos ago
Name
Gwyn Therwyn
Gender
Male
Age
16 - born March 13th, 1898
Sexuality
Tsk...
Race
Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, Edinburgh
Appearance
Gwyn stands at 4'10" tall, and weighs 80lbs exactly. He has short, messy blonde hair and big, eager golden eyes that gleam with anticipation. Physically, he is lissom and trim and has skin as white as snow. His face is feminine and youthful in appearance, with full, puckered lips, pinchable cheeks and long, luscious eyelashes that he can bat completely by accident.
He wears the dress uniform, even in combat situations, with black bracers over the forearms. He dons a dull blue wool coat in cold weather.
Height
4'10"
Personality
Gwyn can best be described as a kind-hearted but quick-tempered boy. He has an easy smile and is always willing to crack a joke, even in the worst of situations. He's not the best spoken, and often sounds too casual for the situation, but he doesn't mean it. He has a strong sense of duty, forms friendships easily and is determined to finish any job he starts to the end.
Having said that, he's also very quick tempered. He doesn't suffer insults to him, his family or his men, and his tendency to put his foot in his mouth often draws him into conflict with his superiors. He's willing to risk his own life for his duty, but not the lives of his followers - this unwillingness to make a sacrifice in the name of a greater goal is most likely why, despite his pedigree, he wasn't given an officer's position.
Rank
Private
Role
Sapper
Equipment
SM-Longfield rifle and other standard sapper gear
Potentials
Gwyn comes from a long line of military men, mostly officers, who have served both locally in in foreign wars as expeditionary forces. This history weighs heavily on him, forcing him to do well to uphold the Therwyn name
Gwyn is willing to do anything for his country, including lay down his life. But in no circumstances will he allow men serving with or under him to give their lives in place of his. He would view anyone in his platoon who died as a personal failure.
Gwyn is an irreverent figure who cares little for pomp and ceremony, but nothing gets under his skin quite like an officer who sees his men as naught but expendable cogs in a machine.
Biography
Gwyn was born to Captain Therwyn and his wife on the 1898. From a young age, Gwyn was groomed to be a military child, being put through rigorous training by his father since he could walk. Even at this young age, Gwyn showed real proficiency with the engineering aspect of service, constantly taking things apart and putting them back together.
The family was not a rich one, nor was it particularly caring. His mother often complained that Captain Therwyn would treat his son more like a recruit than a child, and would impose unnecessarily harsh restrictions on what the boy could and couldn't do. Any transgression was met with severe punishment, from beatings to starvation. This latter punishment lead to Gwyn being the scrawny little thing he is today.
His mother, however, was a sweet little woman and couldn't stand to see her son treated so brutally. Whilst she couldn't do anything about how harsh her husband was on their only son, she showed the boy nothing but kindness, and would tell him stories of great heroes and mighty battles to foster his imagination. She was delighted at his interest in engineering, and bragged about how her boy would grow up to be a great architect to her friends. But things changed when the mother fell pregnant with Gwyn's little sister.
The difference was immediate. The sister was never put through the ringer the same way he was. Captain Therwyn was to his daughter everything he failed to be to his son - a loving father, an understanding tutor and a good man. Gwyn couldn't understand why he was singled out for his father's cruelty. Had he done something wrong? Questioning his dad was unthinkable - he would almost certainly get battered for even daring. It got even worse when his second sister was born and Captain Therwyn again treated her with a kindness utterly absent froom his interactions with Gwyn. It couldn't be because they were girls - Gwyn had seen many women at military marches, and heard of great female heroes from his mother. Was it because he was the eldest? He saw no reason why that would change anything. A soldier was a soldier at any age, as his father often reminded him.
From what Gwyn could gleam, the decision to treat him with naked hostility and his sisters with kindness was entirely arbitrary. His father had taken one look at him and decided he was a soldier - he hadn't done the same for the girls. This sat at the back of his mind throughout his childhood, and soon confusion turned to anger. How dare he decide so early what direction Gwyn would take with his life?
Things took an interesting turn when Gwyn went to school. He found that the regimental lifestyle would earn him few friends with normal children; but on the sports field he quickly became a legend. He could outpace, outlast and outwrestle most of his peers, and his tactical studies meant he always knew exactly where to be and what to do on the football field. This was the crowd he fell in with, and was where he felt most at ease. When he was with them, he could be at ease. He was pushed to join the school football team, and when he did, he quickly assumed the role of captain. Suddenly, Gwyn had a new perspective. Just because he had to be regimented and drilled and dieted didn't mean he needed to be yelled at and berated. Not every failure was evident of a personal fault. He could make mistakes, if it meant he would learn from them.
With the parallels and differences between his fledgling football hobby and his military home life become clearer with each passing day, Gwyn came to resent his father's authority over him. He hated his arbitrary decisions. He hated his unnecessary punishments. And ultimately, he hated his father.
Things took a nasty turn on his 16th birthday. After school, his football mates took him out for a birthday treat with cake and ice-cream at the end. This meant he was late home.
His father didn't take this well at all.
Gwyn took the next few days off school for the bruises to fade. But this didn't make things any easier at home. When his father got home, he was put back out on the training course, and would be out there until the sun went down, until his muscles screamed for rest and his very bones ached with a dull throb. When they could, his mother and sisters would bring him food and water, and would let him rest if his father was out for whatever reason. Gwyn knew his enemies. Despite his envy of the girls, it wasn't their fault that he was mistreated, and he knew that. It was the officer, the father, who was doing wrong. And it was the officer who would suffer.
The captain was very proud of his uniform. He kept it in pristine condition, standing proud on a rack in the living room for all his guests to marvel over. Of course, the living room is a dangerous place to keep such a prize. Someone could spill tea on it, or it could get knocked over. And maybe, just maybe, a vengeful 16 year old could sneak into the living room one night and tear it to shreds with a knife...
Gwyn never got to see his father's reaction to such a thing, for he ran away from the home the very same night. He stayed at a friends house for a while, but at the outbreak of the war, he enlisted shortly after and went to do the thing he'd been raised from birth to do - fight and die for his country.
Affiliations
The Therwyn family has been a long line of soldiers and officers for at least the past five hundred years - Gwyn is only the latest.
Relationships
Currently knows none of the active characters
Character Theme
Yo, this looked interesting so I thought I'd throw my hat in the ring. Still room?
GM
Jeep Wrangler VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Banned
Seen
1 mo ago
Yo, this looked interesting so I thought I'd throw my hat in the ring. Still room?
You're more than welcome! Here's the discord link!
discord.gg/HFy8ZyQ
Luke Godfrey
Gender
Male
Age
18, September 12th 1896EC.
Sexuality
Straight
Race
Edinburgh, Hamberg.
Appearance
Luke has an average build with lightly tanned skin and it's easy to tell that he’s spent lots of his time outside. His short dark brown hair is mostly a mess, obviously not really his biggest concern. His pale blue eyes hold a certain spark in them that always seems to come to life whenever he sets his sights on something. He keeps his face well shaved and clean as he simply prefers it that way. When it comes to his uniform and gear he makes sure to always look as best as he can, keeping it in the best condition he can since he has feeling it won’t always stay this perfect when he gets to the battlefield.
Height
5’10 ft.
Personality
Luke can easily be described as a talkative person who can’t help but throw in his two cents. Without feeling to hold back he will speak his mind in most conversations. Most of the time he'll simply cut to the chase seeing no reason to dance around things. Luke also tries to keep ahold of his sense of humor, thinking that it'll be the last line of defense for his sanity. He'll crack a few jokes here and there while trying to keep the mood light for as long as he can. He can honestly be a bit annoying at times, but he'll always wear a small smirk of confidence. He'll never shy away from work and is a very determined person who will do whatever he can to do his job and help his fellow comrades. Though Luke has seemed a bit to eager to go to war as he has made a few promises to collect a some trophies from his coming battles, like an enemies pistol or knife, something that will prove he’s seen combat. When on duty though he becomes more focused on his job and always gets it done, be it moving ammunition crates to digging latrine holes he simply follows his orders without questions. Though he may disagree with a few things, his training has taught him that arguing with a higher rank can lead to trouble. So he's learned it's better to follow his superiors orders.
Rank
Private
Role
Rifleman
Equipment
Sm-Longfield Rifle and the standard gear of a Rifleman.
Potentials
Decent Marksman: Thanks to those hunting trips he went on with his father Luke has managed to learn the basic elements to handling a loaded rifle. In his training his skills with a rifle only increased and by the time he was ready to deploy he was closer than ever with his weapon.
Basic Medical Training: He’s no doctor, but he’s made sure to learn the basics. From setting a broken leg to treating a bullet wound he is able to at least stabilize an injured person until they are able to get them to safety and give them proper medical attention.
Reckless: Luke has a tendency to act before thinking things through. He’ll follow his instincts through tight situations and sometimes will ignore his own well being when it comes to getting a job done. It’s proven in the past to get him in trouble, but sometimes it would work out in the end. It mostly all comes down to luck really.
Biography
Luke was born into a simple family of farmers within a small and humble town that he can only describe as a little piece of heaven. Within its small tight knit community him, his father, mother and younger sisters lived a rather decent life. His father was a hard working man who always took pride in a day's worth of work in the field and enjoyed it even more when he had his family there to share it with. From his father Luke learned that life will always be filled with struggles and that he will always have to keep going with your head up, no matter how difficult the hardships are. In all honesty his father was Luke's hero, he wanted to be just like his father. A strong, reliable man that always did the right thing and took care of his loved ones.
Unfortunately at a young age his father tragically passed away due to a sickness that swept through his town and left him alone with his grief ridden mother and his year old twin infant sisters. His death had been a crippling blow to the family and it was only in half a year that the land he had worked so hard to give life to seemed to fade away with him. His death was hard on the family, but it was obvious that Luke’s mother had taken the worst of it.
She continued to spiral into a state of depression until she began to completely forget about her children. Luke believes she even began to lose her mind as he had overheard her talking to herself, or as if she was talking to his father's spirit. Finally after a full a year passed Luke’s mother had committed suicide after sending Luke and his sisters to another family that accepted to look after them. With bitter memories he remembers how she didn’t even have the decency to see him and his sisters off the day they left. He both pitied and hated his mother for leaving them alone like that.
With the past few years being a living nightmare he went onto live with the family that had taken him and his sisters in. They owned a small supply shop in town and he quickly found himself helping around. Both the owners, Peter and Carmen were very accepting of Luke and his sisters, but they knew it was going to be much more of a issue to have them around since they already had a few mouth’s to feed. Luke, feeling grateful for their hospitality, began to take up whatever jobs he could to help around. It was hard work, but like his father he felt pride in it.
As Luke moved into a more cramped household he quickly made friends with his adoptive parents kids who were both around his age, Jack and Sarah. Jack, who was the same age as Luke, always got into trouble and would always try to drag him into whatever new scheme he had planned for the day. Sarah, a year younger than him and her brother, would always reluctantly come to make sure they didn’t do anything stupid.
For the first time in awhile Luke felt actual happiness, but he couldn’t ignore the painful memories that lingered over his head and he knew he would never get over it unless he did something about it. Not only did he want to find a solution to his problems, but he wanted to make something of himself. To be seen as more than a simple farmer. So as the most recent news from the war reached his town it sparked a conversation with him and Jack. After Luke revealed his goal of doing something greater than staying in this town Jack had agreed and soon suggested enlisting into the military.
No one took the news of their plans to enlist well, especially Sarah who wanted to change both of their minds. After a night long argument both Luke’s and Jack’s plans were set in stone. A few days later both him and Jack set out to enlist. Both became the standard Rifleman, but they were assigned to different units. Knowing they wouldn’t be able to watch each others backs the two made a promise that they would live through this war and come back home to tell each other their stories. With a final goodbye the two departed and began their own paths through war. With the goal of finding himself through this journey of war and to make his mark on the world, Luke marches off to war with an eager grin.
Affiliations
Adoptive father Peter Williams.
Adoptive mother, Carmen Williams.
Best friends, Jack and Sarah Williams.
Younger twin sisters, Malena and Lily, that just turned seven.
Relationships
Is yet to meet anyone.
Character Theme
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0PI0nqE5j6w
GM
Jeep Wrangler VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Banned
Seen
1 mo ago
Luke Godfrey
Gender
Male
Age
18, September 12th 1896EC.
Sexuality
Straight
Race
Edinburgh, Hamberg.
Appearance
Luke has an average build with lightly tanned skin and it's easy to tell that he’s spent lots of his time outside. His short dark brown hair is mostly a mess, obviously not really his biggest concern. His pale blue eyes hold a certain spark in them that always seems to come to life whenever he sets his sights on something. He keeps his face well shaved and clean as he simply prefers it that way. When it comes to his uniform and gear he makes sure to always look as best as he can, keeping it in the best condition he can since he has feeling it won’t always stay this perfect when he gets to the battlefield.
Height
5’10 ft.
Personality
Luke can easily be described as a talkative person who can’t help but throw in his two cents. Without feeling to hold back he will speak his mind in most conversations. Most of the time he'll simply cut to the chase seeing no reason to dance around things. Luke also tries to keep ahold of his sense of humor, thinking that it'll be the last line of defense for his sanity. He'll crack a few jokes here and there while trying to keep the mood light for as long as he can. He can honestly be a bit annoying at times, but he'll always wear a small smirk of confidence. He'll never shy away from work and is a very determined person who will do whatever he can to do his job and help his fellow comrades. Though Luke has seemed a bit to eager to go to war as he has made a few promises to collect a some trophies from his coming battles, like an enemies pistol or knife, something that will prove he’s seen combat. When on duty though he becomes more focused on his job and always gets it done, be it moving ammunition crates to digging latrine holes he simply follows his orders without questions. Though he may disagree with a few things, his training has taught him that arguing with a higher rank can lead to trouble. So he's learned it's better to follow his superiors orders.
Rank
Private
Role
Rifleman
Equipment
Sm-Longfield Rifle and the standard gear of a Rifleman.
Potentials
Decent Marksman: Thanks to those hunting trips he went on with his father Luke has managed to learn the basic elements to handling a loaded rifle. In his training his skills with a rifle only increased and by the time he was ready to deploy he was closer than ever with his weapon.
Basic Medical Training: He’s no doctor, but he’s made sure to learn the basics. From setting a broken leg to treating a bullet wound he is able to at least stabilize an injured person until they are able to get them to safety and give them proper medical attention.
Reckless: Luke has a tendency to act before thinking things through. He’ll follow his instincts through tight situations and sometimes will ignore his own well being when it comes to getting a job done. It’s proven in the past to get him in trouble, but sometimes it would work out in the end. It mostly all comes down to luck really.
Biography
Luke was born into a simple family of farmers within a small and humble town that he can only describe as a little piece of heaven. Within its small tight knit community him, his father, mother and younger sisters lived a rather decent life. His father was a hard working man who always took pride in a day's worth of work in the field and enjoyed it even more when he had his family there to share it with. From his father Luke learned that life will always be filled with struggles and that he will always have to keep going with your head up, no matter how difficult the hardships are. In all honesty his father was Luke's hero, he wanted to be just like his father. A strong, reliable man that always did the right thing and took care of his loved ones.
Unfortunately at a young age his father tragically passed away due to a sickness that swept through his town and left him alone with his grief ridden mother and his year old twin infant sisters. His death had been a crippling blow to the family and it was only in half a year that the land he had worked so hard to give life to seemed to fade away with him. His death was hard on the family, but it was obvious that Luke’s mother had taken the worst of it.
She continued to spiral into a state of depression until she began to completely forget about her children. Luke believes she even began to lose her mind as he had overheard her talking to herself, or as if she was talking to his father's spirit. Finally after a full a year passed Luke’s mother had committed suicide after sending Luke and his sisters to another family that accepted to look after them. With bitter memories he remembers how she didn’t even have the decency to see him and his sisters off the day they left. He both pitied and hated his mother for leaving them alone like that.
With the past few years being a living nightmare he went onto live with the family that had taken him and his sisters in. They owned a small supply shop in town and he quickly found himself helping around. Both the owners, Peter and Carmen were very accepting of Luke and his sisters, but they knew it was going to be much more of a issue to have them around since they already had a few mouth’s to feed. Luke, feeling grateful for their hospitality, began to take up whatever jobs he could to help around. It was hard work, but like his father he felt pride in it.
As Luke moved into a more cramped household he quickly made friends with his adoptive parents kids who were both around his age, Jack and Sarah. Jack, who was the same age as Luke, always got into trouble and would always try to drag him into whatever new scheme he had planned for the day. Sarah, a year younger than him and her brother, would always reluctantly come to make sure they didn’t do anything stupid.
For the first time in awhile Luke felt actual happiness, but he couldn’t ignore the painful memories that lingered over his head and he knew he would never get over it unless he did something about it. Not only did he want to find a solution to his problems, but he wanted to make something of himself. To be seen as more than a simple farmer. So as the most recent news from the war reached his town it sparked a conversation with him and Jack. After Luke revealed his goal of doing something greater than staying in this town Jack had agreed and soon suggested enlisting into the military.
No one took the news of their plans to enlist well, especially Sarah who wanted to change both of their minds. After a night long argument both Luke’s and Jack’s plans were set in stone. A few days later both him and Jack set out to enlist. Both became the standard Rifleman, but they were assigned to different units. Knowing they wouldn’t be able to watch each others backs the two made a promise that they would live through this war and come back home to tell each other their stories. With a final goodbye the two departed and began their own paths through war. With the goal of finding himself through this journey of war and to make his mark on the world, Luke marches off to war with an eager grin.
Affiliations
Adoptive father Peter Williams.
Adoptive mother, Carmen Williams.
Best friends, Jack and Sarah Williams.
Younger twin sisters, Malena and Lily, that just turned seven.
Relationships
Is yet to meet anyone.
Character Theme
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0PI0nqE5j6w
I'll accept that. Place it into the character tab
GM
Jeep Wrangler VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Banned
Seen
1 mo ago
"You got a lighter, mate? Imps been givin' us a right bashing."
Name
Thomas 'Marathon' Carter
Gender
Male
Age
21 Years
Sexuality
Heterosexual
Race
Oceanic - Kingsland
Appearance
Thomas is a man who is an Officer's worst nightmare: rugged, fairly untidy and quite ravish in his appearance, however if it weren't for his valiance he'd be at the bottom of Civie-street before anyone would've known. With a dirty-blonde fringe that drips just over his forehead, followed by a clean shaven face doused in his baby-blue irises, the experienced, yet youthful, Corporal holds everything you'd expect from someone from his origin. Fairly tall, standing at 6' 1", with a burly stance and quite a bulk of muscle upon his body mass, Thomas easily finds himself above the average conscriptee and can prove his worth simply from his looks alone. When it comes to his uniform, patches of scratches within his past uniforms still can be seen as he refuses to slip into replacement uniforms, instead cleaning his own whenever he gets the chance. This sometimes results in a rather scruffy attire, but he still manages to keep it presentable if he desires. On top of his head sits the trademark bush hat with its left brim bent into a raised position, as a traditional symbol of camaraderie and experience amongst his fellow national friends. Usually, having quite a staggering resilience to the elements, he keeps his uniform rather light, however he always wears the infamous drapes and cape upon his shoulders and back for more serious cases, though he would always admit it was more of a stylistic choice.
Personality
Thomas can be easily described in two ways: as a man who loves his people, his country and his honour, and as a man who absolutely despises the brass and places himself amongst the common soldier. With the things he'd been through in 1913EC, Thomas has always been someone to almost distrust the higher-ups and superiors without any question and can take some heavy persuasion to come around, yet he always keeps a friendly and burly smile on his face whenever things start to go downhill. Known for his wit and keen sense of humour, even in the darkest of times, Thomas has always been considered the Big-Brother of the regiments he'd been a part of, even from his first assignment. A man of morale and commitment, though not one who'd push his men to suicidal charges, he values the sense of staying warm-hearted in the face of evil, and would undeniably come to the aid of any fellow soldier who was anxious, fearful, angered or simply distressed by the world of fire around them.
Rank
Corporal
Role
Shocktrooper
Biography
Thomas lived a simply childhood. He was born in the straight outbacks of Oceania and lived amongst a standard farming community, like most of his friends and comrades had. With the scorching heats, sometimes infertile land and occasionally dangerous wildlife that lived around every conceivable corner, Thomas was prepared to go about his day knowing it could be his last. Hardships were what bred him into the man he had now become. His father was always happy to see him lend a hand on the farm and his mother was immensely grateful for all the hard work he put into keeping the home happy and fresh, alongside his brothers and sisters of course. Being the eldest of the litter, as his mother would always refer to him as, Thomas learned the early need for responsibility, compassion and familial care. Life was almost everything he could've asked for, until the year 1911EC.
The trucks, with the signature Edinburgh coat of arms along their sides and flanks, pulled into their community in numbers. Men in uniforms with strange peculiar accents surrounded each house and checked every family member one by one. Of course, as their overlord nation who controlled most of the autonomy Oceania had, hence its Dominion status, they were welcomed and given some informal introductions before thr proper procedures came around. No one in the smaller villages like such had any access to the world of international news and workings, meaning that when Thomas found out there was such thing as a Great Europan War currently going down, he couldn't help but see his interest peak. They called it a "War to end all wars." Part of Thomas, always being an adventurer who needed thrill in his life, wanted to explore the world finally and see what there was to see in this pinnacle stage of human history. Men and women worldwide were taking arms and marching into battle, according to the Officers, to serve their people and country in the highest honour available to the Federation. Thomas was on-edge. Nothing could calm him down. Without any question, he consolidated his father and managed to get the permission he needed to enlist, showing that he was indeed above the average requirements to enlist into the Federation Army. Considering that the demand for soldiers was not at its highest just yet, and that conscription was still yet to come, Thomas was accepted into the Oceanic Expeditionary Armed Corps, or the OEAC. Within months, he proved himself in training and was finally shipped off to battle.
Things were bad from the start. On the convoy to Europa, a Screen-Fleet of Imperial Patrol ships ambushed the transportation and sank four of the twelve convoy ships, one of which had Thomas on board. He was rescued and simply moved onto another boat, but the thrill and danger of the situation almost shook him instantly. Whilst he came out alive, many of those on his vessel hadn't, and so he felt a rising rage against the enemy he knew nothing about, fuelling his determination to serve the Federation well. Making landfall was a slightly different concern, however, as the newly brought Oceanic troops weren't treated with the same level of respect initially. For the first two months, many of their Europan counterparts saw them as labourers and poor farmers still trying to find purpose in life and they treated them as such. Some found themselves spending those first two months away from the frontline simply doing the logistical work whilst others sat around digging trenches on the rear lines, having not seen or shot a single bullet towards the enemy thus far. It was after the second month, however, that expectations turned drastically. The First Crossing of the Maren River, a fateful engagement in 1911's history, was the first battle that truly reminded the Federation and Imperials alike that this was not going to be an ordinary war. Mass slaughter, rushed defences and rapid fire tactics proved to dominate the world. However, despite this, the OEAC triumphed and proceeded to impress all their allies with immense willpower to defend. Stories of regiments volunteering to make last stands to allow casualties and important officers to fall back spread through the Federation Army like wildfire. However, it was this grand reputation that would become their failure too.
1912 proved to be even greater, with more chances to prove themselves as amazing shocktroopers and even gaining notoriety amongst the Imperials as the deadliest soldiers the Federation had to offer, and 1913EC was unfortunately to become the worst year of the three. Operation: Breached Gates was a daring plan to open up a new front with the Imperial menace by invading the Southern Front recently captured by the Imperials. Barely any territory was left in a neutral state and so the Federation were required to occupy these almost minuscule land masses, breaking their neutrality. The ideas for this plan was to relieve pressure from the Eastern Front in Europa and to catch the Imperials off guard. With a vast majority of their forces on the Federation's doorstep, the invasion force would be expected to grab a surplus of territory and secure more than twelve naval dockyards within the first month or two, allowing for the input of many more troops, ships and equipment to further the war effort. It was a groundbreaking plan that would end the war far quicker, breaking the will of the Imperials and allowing for the greatest and most decisive victory the alliance could ever see. At least, that was the plan.
More than 70,000 Oceanic Troops were sent to serve alongside an additional 90,000 Federation Troops and 7,000 Edinburgh Marines, totalling in massive numbers to amass in a modern armada. Thomas was obviously one of the many sent on this expedition and saw to it as a great opportunity and honour to gain the victory the Federation deserved in his eyes. However, the campaign became ruthless, brutal and disastrous that would forever taint Thomas' view on the world. The landing was heavily underestimated and 14,000 troops were killed simply to secure the beachhead in the first place. Whilst they thought they'd outnumber the Imperial defenders 15 to 1 on the initial invasion, they were in fact only about twice the size of their opposing force, making for steady and complex defences. What's more, officers began to send unwilling soldiers back and forth, trying to break through to speed up the Operation to reach its previous schedule. No more than 91 miles was gained in the 4 months the Campaign lasted, and 47,000 Oceanic troops were killed alongside an additional 10,000 injured. Thomas witnessed the sheer mistreatment of both Federation and Oceanic soldiers alike as they were sent, one by one, to run into the immense gunfire of the Imperials. Officers failed to communicate with their regiments well enough to coordinate successful attacks, which caused frustration and the sending of even more troops. Many died needlessly. Many died pointlessly. Thomas was outraged. Despite this, Thomas earned his nickname as a deliverer of important documents to and from the frontline, sometimes occasionally doing trench raids on the Imperial defences in broad daylight. His bravery also earned him promotions to the eventual NCO rank, where he saw the final battle in the Southern Front to be a disastrous retreat. Soldiers were simply shot in the backs by the Imperials as they scrambled for their boats. About 15% of the original invasion force managed to come back in one piece. It was a day that Oceania would not forget. It was a day Thomas would definitely never forget.
And so, he was sent from regiment to regiment, frontline to frontline, acting as a soldier of request alongside many other Oceanic troops. More and more Oceanic troops were being imported in, having been called by conscription, and 1914EC saw the influx of all Federation walks of life come together to finish the final two bloody years of the conflict. Some were happy it was almost coming to a close. Thomas knew that these, however, were going to be the bloodiest two years in human history.
Affiliations
Mother - Jane Carter
Father - Harold Carter
Brother - William Carter
Brother - Oscar Carter
Sister - Valentine Carter
Brother - Harry Carter
Sister - Diana Carter
Theme Song
"I've popped worse birds back home."
Name
Freya Baines
Gender
Female
Age
20 Years
Sexuality
Bisexual
Race
Oceanic - Sydona
Appearance
As the Beacon of Oceania, as her friends usually refer her to, she is known for the enticing looks of an innocent, cheery girl who seems almost unfazed by the conflict around her. Unlike her counterpart Thomas, she keeps her uniform slightly more clean than before and tilts her bush hat up on its right side. Equally, she finds herself decorated with a few more patches and ribbons, having accepted and proudly boasted her achievements for all her comrades to see quite eagerly. In terms of her natural appearance, the 5' 5" Oceanic girl lives and breathes beauty in the air. She generally doesn't wear the cape like her elder comrade, but does keep it around her shoulders most of the time for a fashion sense. Her dark blue eyes are said to warm the hearts of many and the softness of her voice, fit with the Oceanic accent, also brings the light to her speeches.
Personality
To put it simply, Freya is a golden girl of charm and friendliness. Whilst many of the other Federation soldiers, even the veterans, are known for their more darkened and gloomy outlook on the world, somehow and in some strange manner Freya has managed to always keep her smile plastered onto her face throughout the war's effort. Even within Operation: Breached Gates, stories say that whilst they were on their downtime, which sometimes consisted of artillery barrages raining upon them, she went swimming in the waters of the beachhead they secured and laughed whilst doing so. Some see her as a guiding light and beacon throughout the darkness, which has sometimes left her suitors to become overly protective and even to lose their lives over her safety. More-so, she tends to follow Thomas around almost everywhere, but sometimes deviates away from him to go flirt or brighten up the days of the other soldiers within her assignment. Apparently, she seems to take enjoyment out of the apparent conspiracy that she wasn't a real person, simply because of her extra-ordinary positive look on the world during the war's progression.
Rank
Private
Role
Shocktrooper
Biography
Freya was a traveller. Yes, she was born in Sydona, but her family spent every year and few months in different locations throughout Oceania. Some of those months were spent living on boats in the water whilst others were spent traversing perilous terrain which Oceania was known for. Mountains and large sandy plains of heat and scorching sunlight made her somewhat resilient to the world around her. She saw the difficulties of the world and simply smiled them away, finding that with a good spirit she could do whatever she wanted. Whilst this wasn't true and the upcoming war would surely prove to her that her perfection could only go so far, Freya was determined to make a difference in her friends' lives just by being there to cheer them on. When the war came around, she too was one of the many first volunteers to join the OEAC and again became an icon of interest to many. During her training months she met Thomas and the two became locked in a sibling-like relationship, which many mistake for a love connection. Whilst she refuses to embark on a relationship of the such with Thomas, she always is there to tease him and keep pressing his life on with the good spirit and compassionate words she had to offer.
Equally, she was in almost every Operation that Thomas was in, serving under his command after he eventually got his promotion to Lance Corporal. Some rumours stated that during 1912EC she spent the first half of a year with another woman in her regiment before they both agreed to call off the relationship on good terms, which brought around many more rumours as to her innocence and potential passion for other soldiers around her. She would always exclaim that she loved a man or a woman in uniform, and so many suitors would always come her way during Leave or Off-duty scenarios. 1913EC, however, brought Operation: Breaking Gates, which were said to have sightings of her breaking down in dark corners of the trenches, out of sight of her comrades. She tried her hardest to maintain the brilliant smile she was known for, but even her fragile mind was struggling to contain that happiness. Freya, however, did find inspiration in Thomas' continuous bravery and self-sacrificial acts of protection towards her comrades, making her regain that confidence once more. And as always, news of her dressing down into minimal clothing and swimming in the shores of the beaches once more became a wild story that would forever stick with her, even gathering some minor propaganda material for the newspapers back home. Whilst she wasn't a well-known icon like Captain Middleton had become, she was known as the unnamed soldier who swam calmly. Eventually, she too was scarred slightly by the retreat from the Southern Front, having to watch many of her Edinburgh, Federation and Oceania friends be shot in the back whilst trying to run across the beaches to their boats. Hundreds were left dying in the sand and many only got halfway across the waters in their rowboats before the bullets swarmed them and emptied their cabins of life. However, she used this scene of tragedy and slaughter to fuel her rage against the Imperials. Whilst Thomas developed the dangerous anger against Federation Officers, Freya was rather different in her approach.
Affiliations
Mother - Therese Baines
Father - Gerald Baines
Theme Song
Two new NPCs, as announced in the Discord, are now ready for use when the new replacements arrive to join the 15th Atlantic Rifles.
GM
Jeep Wrangler VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Banned
Seen
1 mo ago
Do not fret, the OOC is still a real thing for my updates, I haven't forgotten about it.
Yam I Am Indefinitely Retired
Banned
Seen
9 mos ago
It's ya boi, Simone Torre's Number 1 Fan, comin' at'chu once again with a character sheet.
Work in progress; it'll get updated as it gets completed.
Name: Ines Levesque
Gender: Female
Age: September 16th, 1895 (Aged 19)
Sexuality: Bisexual
Race: Darcsen - From Ostend, Atlantic Federation
Height: 178 cm / 5’10”
If you knew anything about Ines prior to seeing her, you’d know two things by looking at her; She’s been in a lot of fights, and because her face doesn’t look like a pulped assortment of overcooked mashed potatoes, she’s won those fights. For gutter trash hewn from the back alleys and dirty streets of Northern Francia, Ines is very well-developed woman. Her back would make some circus strongmen put their shirts back on, to say nothing else of the rest of her. Nobody’s perfect, but a commonwoman without flaws is a rare thing, and Ines has flaws aplenty all along her sinuous, scar-tissue peppered body. She’s not bad looking by any stretch of the imagination, even if she often looks like she spent most of the day taking a mud and blood bath in a minefield, but Ines isn’t really the type to doll herself up, anyway.
It would be black in any other light and by any other eye, but in direct noontime daylight (or under the headlamp of an Imperial interrogator), there’s a faint, radiant, midnight blue shine to her long, semi-splintered hair, betraying her Darcsen heritage. Most days, she’s fine with it being tucked into her undershirt and covered by a helmet.
Her uniform is likely to be the nicest piece of clothing she owns. That a dirt-stained, patchwork overcoat mended and stitched back together more than any article of clothing has a right to be released from its’ eternal torment says enough about what the woman bothers wearing otherwise. She doesn’t bother ironing out the wrinkles or folding out the creases when the whole thing will just get dirty again. Jewelry tends to just get caught in things, and that’d also give the impression that Ines fancies carrying around a chunk of silver around her neck anyway. Across her chest lay her pocketed bandolier, each filled with stripper clips for her necessary ammunition, with the bottom two pouches remaining empty for used clips, or whatever else might need a pocket on the battlefield. Belt supplied with a simple leather holster - clearly secondhand from the numerous scratches, water stains, and restitching across the top - as well as a larger pouch situated near her back. Grenades would run along one of her various belt notches, ready to be primed and thrown as needed.
You’d call her “apathetic”, but that’s not a good descriptor for her since she isn’t going to let you do something incredibly stupid without getting yanked back to the ground where you belong. “Bitchy” is a closer one, but there’s a lot of times where you’ll come to appreciate her unique sense of honesty, and more often than not, she’s a fairly relaxed person. And somewhere along those fine lines, the brutally honest, hard-knock, debatably hedonistic, yet ultimately empathetic, comraderous, and utterly fearless to the point of lacking common sense image of Ines forms in a sea of fine lines. Within the mindset of Ines writhes a burn-down-your-house, rob-your-family, steal-your-girl, and “generally not into fair fights” mentality, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t follow rules. There’s plenty of unspoken rules she’ll never bother to tell you about, because if they bother verbal repetition, it’s honestly a miracle you’ve gotten this far in your life. Somewhere while she walks the fine line between vengeful and merciless, Ines shows a quaint sense of loyalty few come to truly appreciate. After all, actions speak louder than words, and Ines is a woman of few words.
Ines isn’t a “model soldier” by any stretch of the imagination. When you give Ines an order, what you’re really doing is giving her a suggestion and praying she follows up on your sage advice. Regulations? What HQ doesn’t know can’t hurt them. Curfew? Make sure you fix your hair and chew some mint before you crawl back into camp at dawn so you don’t look like the rolled-off-a-bar-floor drunk you actually are. The things Ines *haven’t* tried at any point in time can be listed on one hand.
Now, that being said, does that mean she’s going charging off to go kill a land-ship with a hand grenade and a bottle of whiskey? Of course not. Ines isn’t stupid. She won’t make stupid decisions and put everyone in jeopardy because the orders aren’t as good as “they could be.” Just don’t be surprised when she starts “making improvements” to the orders you give.
It’s almost needless to say that there’s scant difference between her demeanor on and off the line of duty, yet for an occupation necessitating such ardent of discipline as hers, it’s prudent to mention.
Rank: Private
Role: Shocktrooper
Equipment:
SM Longfield Carbine
Shrapnel-Ragnite Bombs
“Don’t Tell Me What To Do” - Ines didn’t get as far as she did with some silver-spoon university officer breathing down her neck along the way. Nobody told her she wasn’t doing something right when she fought off thugs with knives and cudgels, or when she practiced 15 hours a day just to get a shot at a fight. Saying she finds herself estranged from most officers is a futile endeavor in understatement, and Ines much prefers to work as independently as possible. Pull her leash too hard, and she’ll yank back until she’s dragging you through a river of mud that game of tug of war.
“Calm Like a Bomb” - Ines is a sub-zero, ticking time bomb waiting for anyone to challenge her. She’d fought off who knew how many people in her life, and she made sure they all took back with them a new lesson about trying to mess with her. What was giving one more lesson to her? What better place than here? What better time than now? She might be cool for a second, but once you set her off, all Hell can’t stop her.
“Gant Argente” - Brass knuckles and sap gloves and boot-stowed steel knives, a bolo thrown through the air while it sings; These are a few of her favorite things. Close combat goes from chaos to absolute madness faster than a junkhead’s brain spins on a New Year’s Day, and Ines has learned well that the ability to use anything as a weapon is how you get through encounter after encounter in tight corridors. Rifle butts, knives, boots, sandbags, chairs, coffee pots, you name it; if you can put it between you and someone else hell-bent on making your smile stretch ear-to-ear via shiny steel, Ines will use it.
Ines’ life was set up for failure since the day she was born. It only took her mom 4 months to realize she had gotten pregnant from her now-ex-boyfriend in a drunken affair on a New Year’s Day, and living on the shoreside of an inner city shanty town wasn’t any place to raise a child. A child without a father, no doubt. And the worst part? Her mom was a Darcsen.
Ostend, Francia. Worst place in the world. That dockside city stood on the corner of nearly four countries, and sitting on the corner of 3 different continental powers meant someone always wanted something. When there’s a strong enough desire for it, people are going to get whatever that “it” is. That meant you could walk for half an hour and pass through two dozen cartels, gangs, mafias, and “militias”, their turf, and get yourself acquainted with the largest assortment of weaponry you’d see outside of the national armory. Let’s just say that not all of those gangs were interested in sharing their slice of the pie with some nasty Darcsen bitch walking all over their street.
Ines came into the world fighting for her life, and one by one, the world conspired to make sure she was going to keep fighting if anything she ever had meant anything to her. Ines fought every day, with everyone and everything. They said she’d grew up to be nothing but a hoodlum, either dead, in prison, or being yet another ganger where there needed no more.
She became a great fighter, no doubt, and given her lengthy history of picking fights with street rats and wannabe thugs, whoever her role model was in life told her she needed to do something with her God-given talents, and for once in her whole life, Ines took the advice of an authority figure. Northern Francia was steeped in a culture of street fighting, born and bred from years of experimentation and practical knowledge. Ines joined an underground fighting club and never bothered looking back, convinced that a ghetto-born bastard Darcsen with nothing to lose and everything to win had nowhere to go but forward.
Money came quickly, and so did problems following that money. The woman won, no doubt about it, but really, who is naive enough to pay even a half-Darcsen in full? And who’s of sound mind to so quickly convince themselves Ines was an honest fighter, that those victories were hers and not those of an unseen fixer? Better yet, who wouldn’t want to beat up the best fighter on the city block, and take the champion’s name for themselves? The more she fought, the more blood flew; the more solutions she made, the more problems sprung up in their place. Good friends were a luxury Ines could scant afford; with friends like hers, enemies would have been a far more welcome substitute.
The night she won the highest title - Gant Argente, begrudgingly granted to the greatest masters of martial arts - that title was not a reward, in spite of her victory. That was a farewell gift. The draft came to her city, and with it, the denizens of the poorest were offered up to the plate, most of the best fighters included. Nobody left dared fight her, either of fear or of superstition. And without fights, there was no money. She could teach, maybe, but who was left to teach? Ines had no other skills, no other fruits of labor to sell herself for. There was enough to worry about with debt and demands of tribute.
So, what good was there to be locked away in a gilded cage? A big name title for being the best fighter really meant nothing when the city stood at the brink of invasion and her life at the helm of collapse, the slow realization that Ines had to do the only thing she knew how to do was how she would get out of this. She’d fight her way out of it, kicking and screaming, and dammit, she’d stand on a mountain of Imperials if it meant she’d just get a quick ducket.
Walking into the recruitment office was just like the ring; With nowhere to go, nothing to lose, and everything to win.
Joan Levesque - Mother (Alive)
Olivier LeBlanc - Father (Estranged)
Guy Levesque - Half-Brother (Alive)
Nobody. Yet.
Work in progress; it'll get updated as it gets completed.
Basics:
Name: Ines Levesque
Gender: Female
Age: September 16th, 1895 (Aged 19)
Sexuality: Bisexual
Race: Darcsen - From Ostend, Atlantic Federation
Height: 178 cm / 5’10”
Appearance:
If you knew anything about Ines prior to seeing her, you’d know two things by looking at her; She’s been in a lot of fights, and because her face doesn’t look like a pulped assortment of overcooked mashed potatoes, she’s won those fights. For gutter trash hewn from the back alleys and dirty streets of Northern Francia, Ines is very well-developed woman. Her back would make some circus strongmen put their shirts back on, to say nothing else of the rest of her. Nobody’s perfect, but a commonwoman without flaws is a rare thing, and Ines has flaws aplenty all along her sinuous, scar-tissue peppered body. She’s not bad looking by any stretch of the imagination, even if she often looks like she spent most of the day taking a mud and blood bath in a minefield, but Ines isn’t really the type to doll herself up, anyway.
It would be black in any other light and by any other eye, but in direct noontime daylight (or under the headlamp of an Imperial interrogator), there’s a faint, radiant, midnight blue shine to her long, semi-splintered hair, betraying her Darcsen heritage. Most days, she’s fine with it being tucked into her undershirt and covered by a helmet.
Her uniform is likely to be the nicest piece of clothing she owns. That a dirt-stained, patchwork overcoat mended and stitched back together more than any article of clothing has a right to be released from its’ eternal torment says enough about what the woman bothers wearing otherwise. She doesn’t bother ironing out the wrinkles or folding out the creases when the whole thing will just get dirty again. Jewelry tends to just get caught in things, and that’d also give the impression that Ines fancies carrying around a chunk of silver around her neck anyway. Across her chest lay her pocketed bandolier, each filled with stripper clips for her necessary ammunition, with the bottom two pouches remaining empty for used clips, or whatever else might need a pocket on the battlefield. Belt supplied with a simple leather holster - clearly secondhand from the numerous scratches, water stains, and restitching across the top - as well as a larger pouch situated near her back. Grenades would run along one of her various belt notches, ready to be primed and thrown as needed.
Personality:
You’d call her “apathetic”, but that’s not a good descriptor for her since she isn’t going to let you do something incredibly stupid without getting yanked back to the ground where you belong. “Bitchy” is a closer one, but there’s a lot of times where you’ll come to appreciate her unique sense of honesty, and more often than not, she’s a fairly relaxed person. And somewhere along those fine lines, the brutally honest, hard-knock, debatably hedonistic, yet ultimately empathetic, comraderous, and utterly fearless to the point of lacking common sense image of Ines forms in a sea of fine lines. Within the mindset of Ines writhes a burn-down-your-house, rob-your-family, steal-your-girl, and “generally not into fair fights” mentality, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t follow rules. There’s plenty of unspoken rules she’ll never bother to tell you about, because if they bother verbal repetition, it’s honestly a miracle you’ve gotten this far in your life. Somewhere while she walks the fine line between vengeful and merciless, Ines shows a quaint sense of loyalty few come to truly appreciate. After all, actions speak louder than words, and Ines is a woman of few words.
Ines isn’t a “model soldier” by any stretch of the imagination. When you give Ines an order, what you’re really doing is giving her a suggestion and praying she follows up on your sage advice. Regulations? What HQ doesn’t know can’t hurt them. Curfew? Make sure you fix your hair and chew some mint before you crawl back into camp at dawn so you don’t look like the rolled-off-a-bar-floor drunk you actually are. The things Ines *haven’t* tried at any point in time can be listed on one hand.
Now, that being said, does that mean she’s going charging off to go kill a land-ship with a hand grenade and a bottle of whiskey? Of course not. Ines isn’t stupid. She won’t make stupid decisions and put everyone in jeopardy because the orders aren’t as good as “they could be.” Just don’t be surprised when she starts “making improvements” to the orders you give.
It’s almost needless to say that there’s scant difference between her demeanor on and off the line of duty, yet for an occupation necessitating such ardent of discipline as hers, it’s prudent to mention.
Details:
Rank: Private
Role: Shocktrooper
Equipment:
SM Longfield Carbine
Shrapnel-Ragnite Bombs
Potentials:
“Don’t Tell Me What To Do” - Ines didn’t get as far as she did with some silver-spoon university officer breathing down her neck along the way. Nobody told her she wasn’t doing something right when she fought off thugs with knives and cudgels, or when she practiced 15 hours a day just to get a shot at a fight. Saying she finds herself estranged from most officers is a futile endeavor in understatement, and Ines much prefers to work as independently as possible. Pull her leash too hard, and she’ll yank back until she’s dragging you through a river of mud that game of tug of war.
“Calm Like a Bomb” - Ines is a sub-zero, ticking time bomb waiting for anyone to challenge her. She’d fought off who knew how many people in her life, and she made sure they all took back with them a new lesson about trying to mess with her. What was giving one more lesson to her? What better place than here? What better time than now? She might be cool for a second, but once you set her off, all Hell can’t stop her.
“Gant Argente” - Brass knuckles and sap gloves and boot-stowed steel knives, a bolo thrown through the air while it sings; These are a few of her favorite things. Close combat goes from chaos to absolute madness faster than a junkhead’s brain spins on a New Year’s Day, and Ines has learned well that the ability to use anything as a weapon is how you get through encounter after encounter in tight corridors. Rifle butts, knives, boots, sandbags, chairs, coffee pots, you name it; if you can put it between you and someone else hell-bent on making your smile stretch ear-to-ear via shiny steel, Ines will use it.
Background:
Ines’ life was set up for failure since the day she was born. It only took her mom 4 months to realize she had gotten pregnant from her now-ex-boyfriend in a drunken affair on a New Year’s Day, and living on the shoreside of an inner city shanty town wasn’t any place to raise a child. A child without a father, no doubt. And the worst part? Her mom was a Darcsen.
Ostend, Francia. Worst place in the world. That dockside city stood on the corner of nearly four countries, and sitting on the corner of 3 different continental powers meant someone always wanted something. When there’s a strong enough desire for it, people are going to get whatever that “it” is. That meant you could walk for half an hour and pass through two dozen cartels, gangs, mafias, and “militias”, their turf, and get yourself acquainted with the largest assortment of weaponry you’d see outside of the national armory. Let’s just say that not all of those gangs were interested in sharing their slice of the pie with some nasty Darcsen bitch walking all over their street.
Ines came into the world fighting for her life, and one by one, the world conspired to make sure she was going to keep fighting if anything she ever had meant anything to her. Ines fought every day, with everyone and everything. They said she’d grew up to be nothing but a hoodlum, either dead, in prison, or being yet another ganger where there needed no more.
She became a great fighter, no doubt, and given her lengthy history of picking fights with street rats and wannabe thugs, whoever her role model was in life told her she needed to do something with her God-given talents, and for once in her whole life, Ines took the advice of an authority figure. Northern Francia was steeped in a culture of street fighting, born and bred from years of experimentation and practical knowledge. Ines joined an underground fighting club and never bothered looking back, convinced that a ghetto-born bastard Darcsen with nothing to lose and everything to win had nowhere to go but forward.
Money came quickly, and so did problems following that money. The woman won, no doubt about it, but really, who is naive enough to pay even a half-Darcsen in full? And who’s of sound mind to so quickly convince themselves Ines was an honest fighter, that those victories were hers and not those of an unseen fixer? Better yet, who wouldn’t want to beat up the best fighter on the city block, and take the champion’s name for themselves? The more she fought, the more blood flew; the more solutions she made, the more problems sprung up in their place. Good friends were a luxury Ines could scant afford; with friends like hers, enemies would have been a far more welcome substitute.
The night she won the highest title - Gant Argente, begrudgingly granted to the greatest masters of martial arts - that title was not a reward, in spite of her victory. That was a farewell gift. The draft came to her city, and with it, the denizens of the poorest were offered up to the plate, most of the best fighters included. Nobody left dared fight her, either of fear or of superstition. And without fights, there was no money. She could teach, maybe, but who was left to teach? Ines had no other skills, no other fruits of labor to sell herself for. There was enough to worry about with debt and demands of tribute.
So, what good was there to be locked away in a gilded cage? A big name title for being the best fighter really meant nothing when the city stood at the brink of invasion and her life at the helm of collapse, the slow realization that Ines had to do the only thing she knew how to do was how she would get out of this. She’d fight her way out of it, kicking and screaming, and dammit, she’d stand on a mountain of Imperials if it meant she’d just get a quick ducket.
Walking into the recruitment office was just like the ring; With nowhere to go, nothing to lose, and everything to win.
Affiliations:
Joan Levesque - Mother (Alive)
Olivier LeBlanc - Father (Estranged)
Guy Levesque - Half-Brother (Alive)
Relationships:
Nobody. Yet.
CFProxy Für Gott und Kaiser
Member
Seen
5 mos ago
Anneli Kivelä
Gender
Female
Age
17
[September 28th, 1896]
Sexuality
Objectively Undecided. Notable admiration for police, shovels, and underground martial arts tournaments.
Race
Federal Dovenjel
Appearance
A light skinned woman standing at a fair 5’ 7”. Usually well kept with tendencies to wear uniforms, collar shirts, shorts, pants, and generally socially acceptable formal variety with more masculine casual attire. Despite this, she’s well kept and well toned. Usually seen in higher spirits, she’s a smiling woman that can have quite a monstrous snarl when approached with “anarchic degenerates.”
Height
5' 7"
Personality
While “friendly” does match the tone of her character and in essence captures the basics of what she sets out to be, one could argue her more abrasive ended personality can be quite a stick in the mud depending on her mood. Although capable of being a very nice, charming, romantic, and very caring individual she is just as easily capable of breaking your back in half over calling her cookies overrated third world trash.
Being especially “feminine” is not a concern. Lady like gestures of other cultures were lost on the daughter of a police officer who brutally cracked down on criminals and enjoyed tossing his daughter around on the Casual Judo Friday that would occur. She went from being the third youngest in a family of 8 children who would be thrown around quite easily to becoming capable of grappling and tossing everyone in her family including her father at the age of 15. She was always a fan of sports and while not always a player on the field she made for a rather loud and abrasive fan who would sometimes get a little too hot. Proud and loyal, she never gave up on her teams even when one of them went 0-12 on a bad year.
Being more of a “boy’s girl” she was often subjected to being treated more as a male in terms of societal norms and due to being the daughter of a hardass police officer she was often seen as a “good girl” who would subject others to understanding order if it wasn’t established in some capacity when she was younger. As she began developing sexual feelings she became curious and experimented with both boys and girls in an attempt to sate her cravings. However, it often ended in failure due to her authoritarian nature which demanded her partners to be more than they were capable of. This rejection, even in realizing later that it was her own fault, led to her uncertainty as her feelings for both remained. It seemed, however, that it wasn’t the only thing that seemed to click as when a very loud and obnoxious neighbor made fun of her for getting rather dirty while digging holes she approached the unsuspecting man and knocked him out with one swift blow to the head with her shovel. Although, she had to later apologize for committing assault and sending the poor fool to the hospital, she couldn’t help but remember how sweet the sound of her shovel slamming against skull was. The lingering feeling only made her doubt herself further.
Rank
Private
Role
Rifleman
Equipment
Standard Issue with a very durable shovel.
Potentials
[Professional Sadist] Having discovered a love for inflicting pain onto others, she’s quite eased into hurting her enemy. Although she does not like actually killing people, she derives joy from hurting or controlling others in ways but is known to draw the line depending on the comforts of the ally.
[Law and Order] She believes in following law, although not entirely by the book. Orders should be listened to as a general guideline on how to accomplish an objective but above all there must be a sense of unity to preserve the state out of duty, of which her father drilled into her as a young one.
[Winter’s Delight] A lover of the snow, she moves, sees, tracks, and fights far better in the cold and especially the snow. The sight of snow alone warms her heart.
[Overwatch] When tasked with methodically standing guard over a location she finds she’s quite adept at picking up clues that would otherwise go unnoticed. While it is a skill she picked up from her father, it also enables her to have a more preemptive reaction to circumstance.
Biography
Early Life
Growing up as the daughter of a police officer meant many things for one such as herself but one thing was very clear even as she grew to be a teenager. Authority is necessary. She believed so with her father who she admired so much for his bravery, admirable tone, calm demeanor, and radiating aura of discipline. She was an experimental child in an attempt to further strengthen the ideals of his law loving ways and instilled a very tough young woman into the world who had gone from crying after stepping into a puddle without her shoes on to throwing bullies into corners and not letting them get up until an adult stopped her. Even though she was trained to be tough she never lost her sense of joy and child like wonder. In fact, she only came to appreciate life more knowing that life would not be this easy and gentle procedure that she had first thought it to be in the lovely snow fields. She was one who began to adopt more masculine ideas after spending much time with her father and came to want to dress and act like him as her fondness for her parental figure grew with time. Despite having these occasional breaches in civility, she was an honor bound student with excellent grades, disciplined behavior, and a lovely smile that spoke in contrast to the bullies who found themselves unfortunate enough to see otherwise.
Adolescence
Although she was quite the model student problems at home would seep into her personality. Her father, enduring some personal trauma and feeling as though he had failed in being able to shape his failure of an elder son and the following daughter led to him becoming a bit less patient with his project daughter. Although he loved her very much, his doubts and anger led him to speak more harshly with her and drive her to questioning what she did wrong as the standards of her behavior were raised in order to earn her father’s approval. As time went on she found her child like joy diminishing and the stricter nature developing. She sought after partners with her father stressing more than ever about his job and struggling to make ends meet with unfortunate changes in circumstances for the time. She naturally attempted to help raise money but often thought of how she had failed him before. As such she was often hard pushing and dedicated with stamina and strength unusual for one of her age but also sad and angry when she thought too much about her father’s agony. Her frustrations seeped into her relationships, becoming too tightfisted thinking about how her father expected better of her and especially did so when he learned she had begun dating to begin with, which, she thought would be received better. Although she continued to date behind his back, she couldn’t help but doubt if she should even be dating at all and would sometimes consider if she was committing a crime by being in love. Was it simply another obstacle in life? Was she just confused? Perhaps, in her head, it was a mixture of both and perhaps another. With time passing and the situation seeming to get worse, she experienced failure and rejection from not just her father but also her relationships which she began to stray from. It wasn’t until the tailend that she remembered the values of her childhood and began to smile at her father regardless. She would tell him how much she loved him and worked hard even after being told she was a failure, loudly proclaiming how she wanted to make him proud. It was at this time that a crisis gripped father accepted her with tears and her child like joy and desire for new things came about again.
Prior to War
A functional adult. That’s the compliment she received even if she was sometimes sensitive to certain phrases. Developed, curious, forward, and a respecting personality who cared for those around her. A teary eyed father wishing her to pursue a career in the police force instead understood her desire to keep her family safe and painfully allowed her to serve alongside her siblings.
Affiliations
TBC
TBC
1x Like
GM
Jeep Wrangler VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Banned
Seen
1 mo ago
Anneli KiveläGender
FemaleAge
17
[September 28th, 1896]Sexuality
Objectively Undecided. Notable admiration for police, shovels, and underground martial arts tournaments.Race
Federal DovenjelAppearance
A light skinned woman standing at a fair 5’ 7”. Usually well kept with tendencies to wear uniforms, collar shirts, shorts, pants, and generally socially acceptable formal variety with more masculine casual attire. Despite this, she’s well kept and well toned. Usually seen in higher spirits, she’s a smiling woman that can have quite a monstrous snarl when approached with “anarchic degenerates.”Height
5' 7"Personality
While “friendly” does match the tone of her character and in essence captures the basics of what she sets out to be, one could argue her more abrasive ended personality can be quite a stick in the mud depending on her mood. Although capable of being a very nice, charming, romantic, and very caring individual she is just as easily capable of breaking your back in half over calling her cookies overrated third world trash.
Being especially “feminine” is not a concern. Lady like gestures of other cultures were lost on the daughter of a police officer who brutally cracked down on criminals and enjoyed tossing his daughter around on the Casual Judo Friday that would occur. She went from being the third youngest in a family of 8 children who would be thrown around quite easily to becoming capable of grappling and tossing everyone in her family including her father at the age of 15. She was always a fan of sports and while not always a player on the field she made for a rather loud and abrasive fan who would sometimes get a little too hot. Proud and loyal, she never gave up on her teams even when one of them went 0-12 on a bad year.
Being more of a “boy’s girl” she was often subjected to being treated more as a male in terms of societal norms and due to being the daughter of a hardass police officer she was often seen as a “good girl” who would subject others to understanding order if it wasn’t established in some capacity when she was younger. As she began developing sexual feelings she became curious and experimented with both boys and girls in an attempt to sate her cravings. However, it often ended in failure due to her authoritarian nature which demanded her partners to be more than they were capable of. This rejection, even in realizing later that it was her own fault, led to her uncertainty as her feelings for both remained. It seemed, however, that it wasn’t the only thing that seemed to click as when a very loud and obnoxious neighbor made fun of her for getting rather dirty while digging holes she approached the unsuspecting man and knocked him out with one swift blow to the head with her shovel. Although, she had to later apologize for committing assault and sending the poor fool to the hospital, she couldn’t help but remember how sweet the sound of her shovel slamming against skull was. The lingering feeling only made her doubt herself further.Rank
PrivateRole
RiflemanEquipment
Standard Issue with a very durable shovel.
Potentials
[Professional Sadist] Having discovered a love for inflicting pain onto others, she’s quite eased into hurting her enemy. Although she does not like actually killing people, she derives joy from hurting or controlling others in ways but is known to draw the line depending on the comforts of the ally.
[Law and Order] She believes in following law, although not entirely by the book. Orders should be listened to as a general guideline on how to accomplish an objective but above all there must be a sense of unity to preserve the state out of duty, of which her father drilled into her as a young one.
[Winter’s Delight] A lover of the snow, she moves, sees, tracks, and fights far better in the cold and especially the snow. The sight of snow alone warms her heart.
[Overwatch] When tasked with methodically standing guard over a location she finds she’s quite adept at picking up clues that would otherwise go unnoticed. While it is a skill she picked up from her father, it also enables her to have a more preemptive reaction to circumstance.BiographyEarly Life
Growing up as the daughter of a police officer meant many things for one such as herself but one thing was very clear even as she grew to be a teenager. Authority is necessary. She believed so with her father who she admired so much for his bravery, admirable tone, calm demeanor, and radiating aura of discipline. She was an experimental child in an attempt to further strengthen the ideals of his law loving ways and instilled a very tough young woman into the world who had gone from crying after stepping into a puddle without her shoes on to throwing bullies into corners and not letting them get up until an adult stopped her. Even though she was trained to be tough she never lost her sense of joy and child like wonder. In fact, she only came to appreciate life more knowing that life would not be this easy and gentle procedure that she had first thought it to be in the lovely snow fields. She was one who began to adopt more masculine ideas after spending much time with her father and came to want to dress and act like him as her fondness for her parental figure grew with time. Despite having these occasional breaches in civility, she was an honor bound student with excellent grades, disciplined behavior, and a lovely smile that spoke in contrast to the bullies who found themselves unfortunate enough to see otherwise.Adolescence
Although she was quite the model student problems at home would seep into her personality. Her father, enduring some personal trauma and feeling as though he had failed in being able to shape his failure of an elder son and the following daughter led to him becoming a bit less patient with his project daughter. Although he loved her very much, his doubts and anger led him to speak more harshly with her and drive her to questioning what she did wrong as the standards of her behavior were raised in order to earn her father’s approval. As time went on she found her child like joy diminishing and the stricter nature developing. She sought after partners with her father stressing more than ever about his job and struggling to make ends meet with unfortunate changes in circumstances for the time. She naturally attempted to help raise money but often thought of how she had failed him before. As such she was often hard pushing and dedicated with stamina and strength unusual for one of her age but also sad and angry when she thought too much about her father’s agony. Her frustrations seeped into her relationships, becoming too tightfisted thinking about how her father expected better of her and especially did so when he learned she had begun dating to begin with, which, she thought would be received better. Although she continued to date behind his back, she couldn’t help but doubt if she should even be dating at all and would sometimes consider if she was committing a crime by being in love. Was it simply another obstacle in life? Was she just confused? Perhaps, in her head, it was a mixture of both and perhaps another. With time passing and the situation seeming to get worse, she experienced failure and rejection from not just her father but also her relationships which she began to stray from. It wasn’t until the tailend that she remembered the values of her childhood and began to smile at her father regardless. She would tell him how much she loved him and worked hard even after being told she was a failure, loudly proclaiming how she wanted to make him proud. It was at this time that a crisis gripped father accepted her with tears and her child like joy and desire for new things came about again.Prior to War
A functional adult. That’s the compliment she received even if she was sometimes sensitive to certain phrases. Developed, curious, forward, and a respecting personality who cared for those around her. A teary eyed father wishing her to pursue a career in the police force instead understood her desire to keep her family safe and painfully allowed her to serve alongside her siblings.Affiliations
TBC
Love lil' Anneli. Whenever you're ready, move it to the tab!
CFProxy Für Gott und Kaiser
Member
Seen
5 mos ago
Bradley Miller
Gender
Male
Age
19
[January 20th, 1895]
Sexuality
Heterosexual
Nationality
Vinlander
Appearance
Sporting a muscular build and a single scar upon his bare chest but an inch from his heart, Bradley stands to be a growing man with bright hair, eyes, and skin.
Height
5’ 10”
Personality
A man of action. Bold. Handsome. A working man of pride and passion. If you were Bradley’s friend you were under the wing of a man who had fought tooth and nail for his trophies and medals and remained cool under pressure.
Even if not the most brilliant in his group of boys the strong leader was always quite the leader who accepted that there were others who knew more than him about specialized categories. All he need concern himself with was keeping people in line and the group happy. Tell them where to go and surely they follow.
Despite being quite the man of valor and unforgiving patriotism he has proven to have some fatal flaws in the different land he found himself in. For in his sect of the United States of Vinland culture was surely different. Men were expected to take up the role of patriarch without question. Fight for your worth. Provide for the entire family yourself, be the man your neighbor wishes he could be. That was the way he had been told and it was the same way he became the leader of The Bloodwater Gang. Even if a group of sharks and freelancers for property damage and roughing up of targets they were always sure to be gentlemen to those who fell in line… Except for the Darscen…
Rank
Private
Role
Shocktrooper
Equipment
[Standard Equipment based on class.]
Potentials
[Ideological Crusader] Democracy or death. Liberty or death. Give the man the promise of Vinlander ideals and an enemy who doesn’t believe in those virtues and you’ve a man with endless motivation.
[Eye Of The Hurricane] Consumed by his ideas and upbringing he has no fear of death. When faced with everything stacked against him he finds the ability to maintain his thoughts and make a plan even under the pressure of high explosives.
[Darcsen Hater] Due to his past with Darscen he fights especially hard against Darscen and proves to be, even if cruel, much more focused when fighting those “damned black heads.” Although it can get him in trouble.
[To The Last Breath] Resilient by spirit, Bradley has a knack of staying alive and kicking longer than average by sheer will. Although he is not made invincible he is capable of taking further action as though he has suffered no wounds for some time after even if the pain is felt through it all.
Biography
Early Life
As a child he had much love to give and much strength to build up to. He was a boy loved deeply by his mother with a father that punished him for misbehaving. Punishments so severe that his mother pleaded with his father to spare the boy further blood loss from a blood soaked backhand slap. It was hard, yes, but through hard labor and routine he proved to be quite durable even as a child. Whether it was falling off the railing and cutting his arm or getting into scraps with bullies to help his friends, or enduring the iron fist his father held. There was simply to work, study, and support the family.
Adolescence
Although his father was a hard and seemingly heartless man, an act of kindness would slip by on occasion. The lifestyle they lived spoke of what trauma Bradley's father endured. Perhaps he didn't want Bradley to fall into the same pitfalls as he. Perhaps the life they lived would have been better served if Howard had not endured such torture in the world. However, it simply wasn't the reality. Perhaps if his life was different, he wouldn't have invited that Darscen into his home.
A poor fellow was Dennis. He was a Darscen, no doubt. A strong man. He was poor and in need of a meal. In the dying light he would be of no use to anyone. The rain and flood enough to kill him if thrown out. It was by Bradley and Howard's brief glance and offer to keep the boy of 16 years into their home. It was by their admission that they saved a life. It was by their admission that they sacrificed another.
Bradley knew Dennis with time. He came to know him as brother and called him so. He welcomed him to events and reassured him that things would be fine as he tried to push Dennis to follow him to every event he so dearly loved. Playing sports, volunteering, boxing for practice, and even overtime at a job he was respected at.
However, even as he reached out to the man he had always insisted to stay home with the exception to leave for work. It was odd for someone like Bradley. It was odd to simply rot at home. It was odd to simply speak with his mother all the time, but he had no inquiry beyond his well being.
Such lack of curiosity... Such trust in a man who was a victim of the life such as he...
In a dark cold night when Bradley had returned home late from watching one too many films. A happy man returned. A shocked one entered the door.
Laying on the ground his father with a blast through the head and his mother with a knife against her throat, torn fabric, tears in eyes, and a cry to Bradley as, in the struggle, Dennis slipped and sliced her open. Shock turned to grief. Grief turned to hellfire. In a short lived brawl the black hair and a bullet wound through the stomach Bradley lived. Only barely. A trauma ridden Bradley with no family left had much on his mind.
When he cracked Dennis' skull open all he could think about was how this man they sheltered carried in his pockets the deed to the house, a stock of money, and his mother's necklace. His father didn't see this betrayal coming. Neither did his mother. Neither did Bradley.
The Bloodwater Gang
During recovery Bradley spent much time in the hospital listening to radio and watching the streets. On the radio cases of Darcsen breaking and entering, homicide, rape, possession of illegals. Every last case of crime accredited to Darcsen fighting against the system.
When Bradley left the hospital he attended therapy, regaining, rebuilding, listening to the radio spout more and more of the Darcsen and their problem against the people he knew as pure. With every pump of the iron and every punch of the sandbag he felt himself to be more and more capable.
However, as he approached his peak health, he had to wonder if he wanted to commit to his ideas. He had sold the house, that place unfit to live in anymore with the memories so strong. He spent weeks after gathering friends, angry civies, and downtrodden men and women looking for something to eat, even Darcsen ashamed to wear their natural colors to join their cause.
Then, one night in a bar where many of these Darcsen guilty of breaking the law had rested away with Darcsen who had nothing to do with it, in came the angry mob by force in the middle of a speech about socialism. In a matter of moments a loud confrontation quickly shed blood and armed Darcsen were cut down before they could retaliate. A social shift occurred as the radicals of both ends created chaos in a small town.
With the police involved many arrests occurred, although the Bloodwater Gang slipped away.
With a base of operations established they would continue to hunt Darcsen for their crimes, guilty or not, and would help those who were not Darcsen religiously.
That is, at least, all one would be willing to tell you if you asked a resident within the county.
GM
Jeep Wrangler VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
Banned
Seen
1 mo ago
Bradley MillerGender
MaleAge
19
[January 20th, 1895]Sexuality
HeterosexualNationality
VinlanderAppearance
Sporting a muscular build and a single scar upon his bare chest but an inch from his heart, Bradley stands to be a growing man with bright hair, eyes, and skin.Height
5’ 10”Personality
A man of action. Bold. Handsome. A working man of pride and passion. If you were Bradley’s friend you were under the wing of a man who had fought tooth and nail for his trophies and medals and remained cool under pressure.
Even if not the most brilliant in his group of boys the strong leader was always quite the leader who accepted that there were others who knew more than him about specialized categories. All he need concern himself with was keeping people in line and the group happy. Tell them where to go and surely they follow.
Despite being quite the man of valor and unforgiving patriotism he has proven to have some fatal flaws in the different land he found himself in. For in his sect of the United States of Vinland culture was surely different. Men were expected to take up the role of patriarch without question. Fight for your worth. Provide for the entire family yourself, be the man your neighbor wishes he could be. That was the way he had been told and it was the same way he became the leader of The Bloodwater Gang. Even if a group of sharks and freelancers for property damage and roughing up of targets they were always sure to be gentlemen to those who fell in line… Except for the Darscen…Rank
PrivateRole
ShocktrooperEquipment
[Standard Equipment based on class.]
Potentials
[Ideological Crusader] Democracy or death. Liberty or death. Give the man the promise of Vinlander ideals and an enemy who doesn’t believe in those virtues and you’ve a man with endless motivation.
[Eye Of The Hurricane] Consumed by his ideas and upbringing he has no fear of death. When faced with everything stacked against him he finds the ability to maintain his thoughts and make a plan even under the pressure of high explosives.
[Darcsen Hater] Due to his past with Darscen he fights especially hard against Darscen and proves to be, even if cruel, much more focused when fighting those “damned black heads.” Although it can get him in trouble.
[To The Last Breath] Resilient by spirit, Bradley has a knack of staying alive and kicking longer than average by sheer will. Although he is not made invincible he is capable of taking further action as though he has suffered no wounds for some time after even if the pain is felt through it all.Biography
Early Life
As a child he had much love to give and much strength to build up to. He was a boy loved deeply by his mother with a father that punished him for misbehaving. Punishments so severe that his mother pleaded with his father to spare the boy further blood loss from a blood soaked backhand slap. It was hard, yes, but through hard labor and routine he proved to be quite durable even as a child. Whether it was falling off the railing and cutting his arm or getting into scraps with bullies to help his friends, or enduring the iron fist his father held. There was simply to work, study, and support the family.
Adolescence
Although his father was a hard and seemingly heartless man, an act of kindness would slip by on occasion. The lifestyle they lived spoke of what trauma Bradley's father endured. Perhaps he didn't want Bradley to fall into the same pitfalls as he. Perhaps the life they lived would have been better served if Howard had not endured such torture in the world. However, it simply wasn't the reality. Perhaps if his life was different, he wouldn't have invited that Darscen into his home.
A poor fellow was Dennis. He was a Darscen, no doubt. A strong man. He was poor and in need of a meal. In the dying light he would be of no use to anyone. The rain and flood enough to kill him if thrown out. It was by Bradley and Howard's brief glance and offer to keep the boy of 16 years into their home. It was by their admission that they saved a life. It was by their admission that they sacrificed another.
Bradley knew Dennis with time. He came to know him as brother and called him so. He welcomed him to events and reassured him that things would be fine as he tried to push Dennis to follow him to every event he so dearly loved. Playing sports, volunteering, boxing for practice, and even overtime at a job he was respected at.
However, even as he reached out to the man he had always insisted to stay home with the exception to leave for work. It was odd for someone like Bradley. It was odd to simply rot at home. It was odd to simply speak with his mother all the time, but he had no inquiry beyond his well being.
Such lack of curiosity... Such trust in a man who was a victim of the life such as he...
In a dark cold night when Bradley had returned home late from watching one too many films. A happy man returned. A shocked one entered the door.
Laying on the ground his father with a blast through the head and his mother with a knife against her throat, torn fabric, tears in eyes, and a cry to Bradley as, in the struggle, Dennis slipped and sliced her open. Shock turned to grief. Grief turned to hellfire. In a short lived brawl the black hair and a bullet wound through the stomach Bradley lived. Only barely. A trauma ridden Bradley with no family left had much on his mind.
When he cracked Dennis' skull open all he could think about was how this man they sheltered carried in his pockets the deed to the house, a stock of money, and his mother's necklace. His father didn't see this betrayal coming. Neither did his mother. Neither did Bradley.
The Bloodwater Gang
During recovery Bradley spent much time in the hospital listening to radio and watching the streets. On the radio cases of Darcsen breaking and entering, homicide, rape, possession of illegals. Every last case of crime accredited to Darcsen fighting against the system.
When Bradley left the hospital he attended therapy, regaining, rebuilding, listening to the radio spout more and more of the Darcsen and their problem against the people he knew as pure. With every pump of the iron and every punch of the sandbag he felt himself to be more and more capable.
However, as he approached his peak health, he had to wonder if he wanted to commit to his ideas. He had sold the house, that place unfit to live in anymore with the memories so strong. He spent weeks after gathering friends, angry civies, and downtrodden men and women looking for something to eat, even Darcsen ashamed to wear their natural colors to join their cause.
Then, one night in a bar where many of these Darcsen guilty of breaking the law had rested away with Darcsen who had nothing to do with it, in came the angry mob by force in the middle of a speech about socialism. In a matter of moments a loud confrontation quickly shed blood and armed Darcsen were cut down before they could retaliate. A social shift occurred as the radicals of both ends created chaos in a small town.
With the police involved many arrests occurred, although the Bloodwater Gang slipped away.
With a base of operations established they would continue to hunt Darcsen for their crimes, guilty or not, and would help those who were not Darcsen religiously.
That is, at least, all one would be willing to tell you if you asked a resident within the county.
Acceeeepted as well!
@LetMeDoStuff
Name
Victoria "Slasher" White
Gender
Female
Age
18 January 1, 1896
Sexuality
Bisexual
Race
Oceanian
Appearance
Victoria is much taller than most women and quite a few men, standing at a full 6'3" when standing upright. Obviously this is less than ideal for the brutal trench warfare she's currently stuck in so she's adopted a sort of permanent slouch. Her body is mostly lean from years of near starvation, somewhat countered by the slight pudge of motherhood. Her brown hair hangs down messily over her face and around her head, held somewhat in place by her rabbit-fur felt slouch hat with a spare clip tucked into its band. The young woman has a permanently lopsided grin that morphs easily into a feral snarl in the heat of combat.
Her body bears marks from the recent engagement at Amone where her entire unit was blown apart by grenades or crushed under the wheels of an armored car as well as her rough upbringing, a chunk of her right ear missing and bandages wrapped around her wrists where shrapnel left long, ugly, scars. A jagged scar traces its way over her right eye, a result of a bottle being shattered against her head. Just as painful but harder to spot is the mental trauma from such violence. Victoria sometimes drifts off into her own world, a blank expression on her face as she witnesses the death of her friends again.
Besides the standard issue blue uniform and webbing she wears a waterproof canvas cape and slouch hat as well as twin bandoleers across her torso, a leather satchel hanging at her side. A heart locket hangs from a spare bootlace around her neck, inside is a picture of her daughter Elizabeth.
Personality: Victoria is open and friendly, some might say overbearingly so. She is perfectly willing to talk about her violent past and rough upbringing, she has nothing to hide. She is a product of her environment and she'd like to see someone grow up in her shoes and not be at least a little bit wild. She boasts often and loudly but only when she knows she can back it up. Other people would be wise to do the same unless they want to be tested. The quickest way to earn her respect is through a friendly drinking match or friendly wrestling match/no holds barred brawl, she believes that you can tell a lot about a person through how they fight.
She has little love for the Federation. Despite what the propaganda says she sees little difference between them and the Imperials. The Federation never helped her when she was on the verge of starving to death or struggling to make ends meet with a baby on the way. So she has little love for the Federation and it's higher officers. Patriotic calls to duty and propaganda decrying the Imperials as evil invaders does little to compel her, and if she thinks that an order would get men needlessly slaughtered expect her to "interpret" it a bit differently than expected.
With that in mind, there's little she wouldn't do for friends and loved ones. She forms attachments quickly and sees herself as the "squad mom", making sure that everyone's eaten and has enough to eat. She carries needles and thread as well as some yarn in her satchel so feel free to ask her to mend your clothes or make you a scarf!
She feels a certain sense of sympathy with the Darcens as a whole, having grown up dirt poor and living on the outskirts of society where the proper and decent folk wouldn't have to see her. She's never been discriminated against per say, but she's certainly experienced some of the problems facing them. The few Darcens that had lived in Prairie had struggled along just like everyone else, they were no better or worse inherently. She judges people based off their character and actions and absolutely DETESTS racism of any kind.
Rank
Private
Role
Shocktrooper, Squad Mom, Packrat
Equipment
SML-Carbine with bayonet, Sharpnel-Ragnite Bombs,
Potentials
Berserk: Being a shocktrooper requires a certain ruthlessness and a complete lack of fear. When charging enemy positions she became a snarling and howling beast hellbent on driving her bayonet through some chests. She also prefers close-quarters combat, excelling at using her fists and any nearby objects to bludgeon the enemy into submission.
Mother Bear: She's always there to care for her friends. Rescuing downed squad mates or providing comfort to a friend going through trouble is always her first priority.
Don't Believe Their Lies: Victoria doesn't believe any of the Federation's propaganda. They weren't there for her when she was starving, why should she care what they say? She's only here because she needs to feed her child.
Hit the Bottle: She's always drinking, but a really bad day can send her on a proper drunken bender. A particular gruesome battle will have her reaching for the bottle before seeking medical attention.
Biography
Victoria White was born in the year 1896 to a poor family of farmers in the town of Prairie, Oceania. It was a farming community originally and its people used to be able to make a decent living selling their livestock and crops. But roughly ten years before her birth the fields had turned fallow and the land was caught in a drought. Once successful farms soon struggled to feed their own children and more and more beggars began to fill the street. It wasn't very long until people actually began to die of starvation. That was the world Jack and Margret White brought their daughter into, and they regretted it.
The poor girl had been an accident of course, what kind of parents would want to have a child when they wouldn't be able to know when their next meal was coming? Both her mother and father worked near constantly either trying to scrape some manner of living out of the dust or preforming odd jobs for a bit of extra cash so she was largely cared for by her grandmother and three siblings, each ten years her senior. Her two brothers and one sister taught her how to mix a bit of sawdust into flour to stretch it, how to break into abandoned homes and farmsteads and strip them of any left behind valuables that could be sold. At night her grandmother made her learn the alphabet and basic math so "some crooked bastard doesn't cheat you."
It was a strange education but it was the one she needed to survive. By the time she was ten all of her siblings had left for the cities pf Randgriz, Melvere and Koln in search of work, joining an exodus that had been steadily lowering the population of Prairie. By now the famine was mostly over but the damage was done. Prairie was dying, the people that remained only stayed because they had nowhere else to turn. Without her siblings to guide her Victoria fell in with one of the packs of jobless and ambition-less youths roaming the streets, the Scarlet Slicers they called themselves. They spent their days throwing bricks through windows and fighting over turf with makeshift clubs constructed of fence-posts and bottles.
She started as a pickpocket and soon graduated to professional ruffian, hanging out on the corner and carrying knives. She was caught multiple times scrawling graffiti on rival gangs territory and "earned her fangs" in many back alley brawls. By the time she was fourteen her family would have nothing to do with her so she began sleeping on the streets or on a grimy mattress in the shack of some fellow hoodlum. She started drinking and never stopped, getting blackout drunk at parties and late night meet ups. Sometimes she was flirty, other times violent. Once she earned herself a permanent scar when a member of another street gang, the Women of Limbo, smashed a bottle against her head. In a drunken rage Victoria stabbed the girl to death. That incident earned her the nickname of "Slasher".
By fifteen she had ended up in the arms of Charles, a handsome young man four years her senior. He was a smooth talking con-artist that could make money appear as if from nowhere with any number of scams. They ran wild together both outside and in the bedroom and eventually the inevitable happened: Victoria was pregnant at the age of sixteen. Charles assured her that it would be all right, he would make enough money for them to move deep into the Federation but it never happened. The money they gained was spent on alcohol for her and gambling for him. Three months into her pregnancy and he was gone, disappearing from her life.
With nowhere else to turn Victoria begged forgiveness from her family. They brought her back into the fold, not wanting to abandon the girl like her "lover" had. Grandma Liz helped her through it, having gotten pregnant herself when she was only twenty years old. Time passed by and after a difficult Elizabeth White was born, named for her great-grandmother. Victoria fell in love with her daughter immediately, but was trapped in the same situation as her own parents. How was she supposed to feed her baby?
Her siblings had left to search for work in the cities but that was no guaranteed thing. Farming was out, she had seen the results of relying on the land. She had no skills except sewing, knitting and street-fighting. Luckily for her, war was brewing. She signed up the Oceania Expeditionary Force and Victoria the Slasher abandoned her dusty and tattered pants and shirt for the blue uniform and slouch hat of Private White. She entered boot camp and quickly became friends with the young men and woman she would spend her service fighting alongside.
Until the armored car killed all of them of course. She was the only survivor, everyone else was cut in half by machine gun fire or smashed under the wheels. Victoria managed to escape with only a few new scars and the need to find a new unit to attach herself to. Now all she has to do is survive the war so she can keep sending money home to care for her daughter and then track down the worthless son-of-a-bitch who ran out on his own child.
Affiliations
Jack White (Father, 47)
Margret White (Mother, 41)
Liz Dawson (Grandmother, 61)
Elizabeth White (Daughter, 2)
John, Edward, and Mary White (Siblings, all 28)
Charles Blake (Worthless Bastard, 22)
Relationships
None yet
Name
Victoria "Slasher" White
Gender
Female
Age
18 January 1, 1896
Sexuality
Bisexual
Race
Oceanian
Appearance
Victoria is much taller than most women and quite a few men, standing at a full 6'3" when standing upright. Obviously this is less than ideal for the brutal trench warfare she's currently stuck in so she's adopted a sort of permanent slouch. Her body is mostly lean from years of near starvation, somewhat countered by the slight pudge of motherhood. Her brown hair hangs down messily over her face and around her head, held somewhat in place by her rabbit-fur felt slouch hat with a spare clip tucked into its band. The young woman has a permanently lopsided grin that morphs easily into a feral snarl in the heat of combat.
Her body bears marks from the recent engagement at Amone where her entire unit was blown apart by grenades or crushed under the wheels of an armored car as well as her rough upbringing, a chunk of her right ear missing and bandages wrapped around her wrists where shrapnel left long, ugly, scars. A jagged scar traces its way over her right eye, a result of a bottle being shattered against her head. Just as painful but harder to spot is the mental trauma from such violence. Victoria sometimes drifts off into her own world, a blank expression on her face as she witnesses the death of her friends again.
Besides the standard issue blue uniform and webbing she wears a waterproof canvas cape and slouch hat as well as twin bandoleers across her torso, a leather satchel hanging at her side. A heart locket hangs from a spare bootlace around her neck, inside is a picture of her daughter Elizabeth.
Personality: Victoria is open and friendly, some might say overbearingly so. She is perfectly willing to talk about her violent past and rough upbringing, she has nothing to hide. She is a product of her environment and she'd like to see someone grow up in her shoes and not be at least a little bit wild. She boasts often and loudly but only when she knows she can back it up. Other people would be wise to do the same unless they want to be tested. The quickest way to earn her respect is through a friendly drinking match or friendly wrestling match/no holds barred brawl, she believes that you can tell a lot about a person through how they fight.
She has little love for the Federation. Despite what the propaganda says she sees little difference between them and the Imperials. The Federation never helped her when she was on the verge of starving to death or struggling to make ends meet with a baby on the way. So she has little love for the Federation and it's higher officers. Patriotic calls to duty and propaganda decrying the Imperials as evil invaders does little to compel her, and if she thinks that an order would get men needlessly slaughtered expect her to "interpret" it a bit differently than expected.
With that in mind, there's little she wouldn't do for friends and loved ones. She forms attachments quickly and sees herself as the "squad mom", making sure that everyone's eaten and has enough to eat. She carries needles and thread as well as some yarn in her satchel so feel free to ask her to mend your clothes or make you a scarf!
She feels a certain sense of sympathy with the Darcens as a whole, having grown up dirt poor and living on the outskirts of society where the proper and decent folk wouldn't have to see her. She's never been discriminated against per say, but she's certainly experienced some of the problems facing them. The few Darcens that had lived in Prairie had struggled along just like everyone else, they were no better or worse inherently. She judges people based off their character and actions and absolutely DETESTS racism of any kind.
Rank
Private
Role
Shocktrooper, Squad Mom, Packrat
Equipment
SML-Carbine with bayonet, Sharpnel-Ragnite Bombs,
Potentials
Berserk: Being a shocktrooper requires a certain ruthlessness and a complete lack of fear. When charging enemy positions she became a snarling and howling beast hellbent on driving her bayonet through some chests. She also prefers close-quarters combat, excelling at using her fists and any nearby objects to bludgeon the enemy into submission.
Mother Bear: She's always there to care for her friends. Rescuing downed squad mates or providing comfort to a friend going through trouble is always her first priority.
Don't Believe Their Lies: Victoria doesn't believe any of the Federation's propaganda. They weren't there for her when she was starving, why should she care what they say? She's only here because she needs to feed her child.
Hit the Bottle: She's always drinking, but a really bad day can send her on a proper drunken bender. A particular gruesome battle will have her reaching for the bottle before seeking medical attention.
Biography
Victoria White was born in the year 1896 to a poor family of farmers in the town of Prairie, Oceania. It was a farming community originally and its people used to be able to make a decent living selling their livestock and crops. But roughly ten years before her birth the fields had turned fallow and the land was caught in a drought. Once successful farms soon struggled to feed their own children and more and more beggars began to fill the street. It wasn't very long until people actually began to die of starvation. That was the world Jack and Margret White brought their daughter into, and they regretted it.
The poor girl had been an accident of course, what kind of parents would want to have a child when they wouldn't be able to know when their next meal was coming? Both her mother and father worked near constantly either trying to scrape some manner of living out of the dust or preforming odd jobs for a bit of extra cash so she was largely cared for by her grandmother and three siblings, each ten years her senior. Her two brothers and one sister taught her how to mix a bit of sawdust into flour to stretch it, how to break into abandoned homes and farmsteads and strip them of any left behind valuables that could be sold. At night her grandmother made her learn the alphabet and basic math so "some crooked bastard doesn't cheat you."
It was a strange education but it was the one she needed to survive. By the time she was ten all of her siblings had left for the cities pf Randgriz, Melvere and Koln in search of work, joining an exodus that had been steadily lowering the population of Prairie. By now the famine was mostly over but the damage was done. Prairie was dying, the people that remained only stayed because they had nowhere else to turn. Without her siblings to guide her Victoria fell in with one of the packs of jobless and ambition-less youths roaming the streets, the Scarlet Slicers they called themselves. They spent their days throwing bricks through windows and fighting over turf with makeshift clubs constructed of fence-posts and bottles.
She started as a pickpocket and soon graduated to professional ruffian, hanging out on the corner and carrying knives. She was caught multiple times scrawling graffiti on rival gangs territory and "earned her fangs" in many back alley brawls. By the time she was fourteen her family would have nothing to do with her so she began sleeping on the streets or on a grimy mattress in the shack of some fellow hoodlum. She started drinking and never stopped, getting blackout drunk at parties and late night meet ups. Sometimes she was flirty, other times violent. Once she earned herself a permanent scar when a member of another street gang, the Women of Limbo, smashed a bottle against her head. In a drunken rage Victoria stabbed the girl to death. That incident earned her the nickname of "Slasher".
By fifteen she had ended up in the arms of Charles, a handsome young man four years her senior. He was a smooth talking con-artist that could make money appear as if from nowhere with any number of scams. They ran wild together both outside and in the bedroom and eventually the inevitable happened: Victoria was pregnant at the age of sixteen. Charles assured her that it would be all right, he would make enough money for them to move deep into the Federation but it never happened. The money they gained was spent on alcohol for her and gambling for him. Three months into her pregnancy and he was gone, disappearing from her life.
With nowhere else to turn Victoria begged forgiveness from her family. They brought her back into the fold, not wanting to abandon the girl like her "lover" had. Grandma Liz helped her through it, having gotten pregnant herself when she was only twenty years old. Time passed by and after a difficult Elizabeth White was born, named for her great-grandmother. Victoria fell in love with her daughter immediately, but was trapped in the same situation as her own parents. How was she supposed to feed her baby?
Her siblings had left to search for work in the cities but that was no guaranteed thing. Farming was out, she had seen the results of relying on the land. She had no skills except sewing, knitting and street-fighting. Luckily for her, war was brewing. She signed up the Oceania Expeditionary Force and Victoria the Slasher abandoned her dusty and tattered pants and shirt for the blue uniform and slouch hat of Private White. She entered boot camp and quickly became friends with the young men and woman she would spend her service fighting alongside.
Until the armored car killed all of them of course. She was the only survivor, everyone else was cut in half by machine gun fire or smashed under the wheels. Victoria managed to escape with only a few new scars and the need to find a new unit to attach herself to. Now all she has to do is survive the war so she can keep sending money home to care for her daughter and then track down the worthless son-of-a-bitch who ran out on his own child.
Affiliations
Jack White (Father, 47)
Margret White (Mother, 41)
Liz Dawson (Grandmother, 61)
Elizabeth White (Daughter, 2)
John, Edward, and Mary White (Siblings, all 28)
Charles Blake (Worthless Bastard, 22)
Relationships
None yet
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