This is where I'm putting a complete list of all of my characters. At least, all of whom I can find. Because why not?
I've also learned that I like characters whose names start with J.
Name: James Knight
Age: 26
Appeared Age: Mid twenties (23-27)
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 148 lbs.
Eye Color: Viridian.
Hair Color: Black.
Physical Identifiers:
Appearance: James is a fairly average-looking person who, aside from his eyes, doesn't really have any striking features, unless you catch him without a shirt. Though a bit on the skinny side, his well toned muscles counteract his scrawniness for the most part. He keeps his facial hair in check, saying that it's too itchy to let grow. James doesn't exactly have an imposing stature, though he carries himself with confidence and people tend to respect him just for that. Furthermore, he has an air of optimism about him, with a relatively content or even happy face on him most of the time. While his looks aren't necessarily impressive, his apparent attitude tends to make him somewhat more attractive than he is, though he would never admit to that.
His attire tends to consist of a dark grey hoodie worn under a dark green military style jacket, jeans, black lightweight boots, black half-finger gloves, and a green shemagh.
Residence: Non-permanent.
Profession: Freelancer/scavenger.
Aligned Faction: Neutral.
Relatives: No known relatives.
Weapons:
Armor: James rarely wears armor, but when he does, he prefers light armor that doesn't restrict mobility. Generally, a light vest or plate worn under his usual jacket, a brace on his left forearm, and kneepads are the most he would wear.
Ammunition
Dirty Rounds:
Mid-Grade Hand-Loads:
Military-Grade Ammunition:
Luggage
Rucksack:
Messenger Bag:
Holster:
Thigh Pouch:
Manifested Phenomena: Perception
Unique Abilities
Strengths
Weaknesses
Name: James "JR" Rourke
Race: Human
Appearance: James is a pretty slender guy, standing at 5'10" and weighing 148 lbs. He has fairly attractive features; well-toned muscles, nice mid-length brown hair, green eyes, a shapely chin, and attractive facial features in general. He also looks pretty young, for thirty, and while he may look attractive, he also has a consistent look of annoyance or lack of giving a shit, which tends to repel some people.
Personality: In a nutshell, James has a very devil-may-care attitude, mixed in with blunt honesty, sarcasm, and a touch of jaded withdrawal.
Skills:
-Expert Weapons Engineering
-Skilled Mechanics
-Skilled Close Quarters Operations
-Amateur Hacking
Equipment:
-YF12 Blaster Pistol: A standard pistol used by many privateers, it functions by concentrating electrons into a plasma-like bolt of energy. It is powered by interchangeable power cells which function like magazines, containing enough power for anywhere between 45 and 55 bolts, depending on the quality of the cell. The YF12 has a fairly low range due to the nature of it's shots, with the bolts typically losing their efficacy between 50 and 60 meters and dissipating at 75 meters. They inflict fairly high damage, are pretty accurate, have low recoil, and a moderate rate of fire.
-KA76 Submachine Gun: A somewhat older design, the KA76 functions similar to a blaster, but instead uses physical ammunition consisting of ceramic flechettes containing a plasmoid liquid which is charged in the firing process and converted into pure plasma. The casing contains the charge far better than the YF12, resulting in better range, though it suffers in inflicting damage. It does, however, have a very high rate of fire, decent accuracy, very low recoil, and a magazine capacity of 120 rounds, making it ideal for close quarters.
-Weapons Maintenance Kit: "The Leo-tec advanced weapons maintenance kit contains all the tools you'll need to fix any gun, anywhere, anytime. Replacement parts sold separately."
-M23 Standard Headset and Uplink: An earpiece/headband which acts as a communicator, as well as relays vital information to the user's eyepiece. Typically used in squads where tactical information may be needed in a fraction of a second.
Bio: James was born and raised on Halloran, a cold planet inhabited by several different races. While civilized, the planet was also small and sparsely populated, and thus quite boring. There was never any sort of danger, and James was having none of that shit. He wanted to get out and explore the fringes of known space, and when he reached the age of 17 he got an opportunity to join the Sol Alliance Navy with the guarantee that he would be on an exploration vessel.
During training, he became enthralled with the mechanics of modern weaponry. Although he was trained as a CQC specialist to begin with, he was soon switched over to the position of weapons specialist, and within weeks he knew everything about the Alliance's small arms, along with several other weapons built by private manufacturers. When his training was finished, he was placed onboard a light expedition vessel. He and his crew marked several planets for future colonization, encountering all sorts of hostile wildlife, and on one occasion, a band of pirates.
After doing this for seven years or so, James began to actually get bored. Even exploring planets seemed to become nothing more than just going through the motions. Land here, shoot anything with teeth the size of your arm, drop some beacons and survey probes, maintain the squad's weapons, extract from the planet, repeat. Maybe it was the idea of procedure that put James off. He wanted more unpredictability, which he got when he left the Navy and became a privateer. He began to help on explorations with random people rather than a government entity, and that helped make things a bit more fun, but it still was basically the same thing as before. Still, it allowed him to build a reputation as someone who could handle himself and was virtually without fear, not to mention he knew his way around a gun more than pretty much anyone else. In his days of exploring, he never went a day without having his curiosity satisfied, but he went nearly every day without any real excitement.
When he heard about the appearance of the long-missing Lone Star, and that a crew was being assembled to enter the ship, he was more than interested in checking it out. This time, hopefully, he could satisfy both his curiosity and his need for some adrenaline.
Quotes:
"What can I say; shit happens."
"Hold your horses! Fixing a plasma rifle takes time, and if I'm not careful it can blow us all up."
"Well, that's a thing."
I've also learned that I like characters whose names start with J.
Basics
Name: James Knight
Age: 26
Appeared Age: Mid twenties (23-27)
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 148 lbs.
Eye Color: Viridian.
Hair Color: Black.
Physical Identifiers:
- Wolf tattoo on right bicep.
- Several scars across the back.
Appearance: James is a fairly average-looking person who, aside from his eyes, doesn't really have any striking features, unless you catch him without a shirt. Though a bit on the skinny side, his well toned muscles counteract his scrawniness for the most part. He keeps his facial hair in check, saying that it's too itchy to let grow. James doesn't exactly have an imposing stature, though he carries himself with confidence and people tend to respect him just for that. Furthermore, he has an air of optimism about him, with a relatively content or even happy face on him most of the time. While his looks aren't necessarily impressive, his apparent attitude tends to make him somewhat more attractive than he is, though he would never admit to that.
His attire tends to consist of a dark grey hoodie worn under a dark green military style jacket, jeans, black lightweight boots, black half-finger gloves, and a green shemagh.
Background
Residence: Non-permanent.
Profession: Freelancer/scavenger.
Aligned Faction: Neutral.
Relatives: No known relatives.
James was born to a very poor family in Dead-End. His father, Harry, suffered from a neurological disorder that resulted in him experiencing extreme pain from exertion, meaning that he couldn't work much. He would typically go to work at the smelter, but it didn't exactly pay much, and given that he couldn't work long hours, it paid even less. His mother, Lisa, hardly found the time to work since she basically took care of their home one part of the day, and took care of Harry the next. They could barely afford to stay afloat, but eventually Lisa got an idea. She talked it over with Harry a bit, and then they decided to have a child.
10 months later James was born, but at that point their funds were completely drained. Still, Lisa and Harry had a plan. After roughly six more months of just barely scraping by, a band of slavers came through. Lisa and Harry knew that they would pay good money for a healthy infant, one that they could easily mold into a hard-working grunt. That was their plan, after all, to sell James off at the nearest opportunity. They took their newfound money and decided to move to Russel City, where they thought they would find a better life. Unfortunately for them, they were both murdered by some of the other Dead-End residents who didn't take too kindly to them having a kid for the sole purpose of selling him off.
James was raised in dismal conditions by the slavers until he was about six, at which point they put him straight to work. Of course, him still being pretty young, he couldn't do much more than run errands. Still, even with his relatively "easy" job, he would often make small mistakes that earned him either a disciplinary punch, or a day-long time out in a pitch black vault. James started to build a resentment towards his masters, which earned him even more disciplinary measures, until he was eventually told to fight another child of roughly equal age. He got a dislocated shoulder from the fight, along with a broken nose, several bruises, and a couple of shallow cuts. He didn't even put up a fight.
This pattern continued until James effectively broke and completely surrendered himself. It took him roughly three months to get to that point. The authoritarianism and violence became the status-quo. Those who disobeyed were whipped, and those who tried to escape were executed. James didn't want to be tortured or killed. James didn't want anything. He became an empty shell of a person. He disconnected himself from everything and just did what he was told.
Six years and two trades later, James is constantly referred to as one of the best-behaved slaves ever. He hasn't questioned any of his masters in years, and is constantly satisfying his masters in whatever way possible. He also hasn't spoken in years, which, while it is advantageous to him in many ways, it is concerning to everyone else. Even some of his masters became concerned, though more in the sense that they were concerned James would snap, or become completely catatonic and useless. Unbeknownst to anyone else, James actually regained some lucidity around this point, though his attitude was still as withdrawn as ever.
Two years later, at the age of 14, James was going to be at the next trade, along with several of the other slaves under his master's ownership. His master spent some time with James, telling him exactly how to behave, not like he didn't already know. He wordlessly nodded anyways. At the trade, he was dressed in the best garb his master would put together for a slave. He was paraded under his title of "The Quiet One" and was even recognized by some of the other traders. At one point, James noticed something. A little girl, a few years younger than him, also at the trade. She never noticed him, but he noticed her. The abject despair and misery in her eyes spoke volumes, but even more jarring was the realization that James hadn't seen a single other child slave in over 5 years. What happened to those whom he was with before? That's right, they all died, either at the hands of their masters or from the results of severe neglect.
At that thought, James felt a surge of newfound hatred and rebellion. He had found a purpose. He was done with this shit. He was going to get out, and then he was going to make the slavers pay for what they've done. But, as much as he might have wanted to, he knew he couldn't just go at it, that was a good way to get killed. He wasn't going to out-brute them, but he could outsmart them. They still thought he was a complacent little drone, and he would use that to his advantage in the coming weeks.
He was sold to another master during the trade. That put a hold on his plans, since he was now in unfamiliar territory, but it ended up working to his advantage. His new master had fewer guards. Not by much, but still fewer. Once James had been in service at this place for a couple of weeks and had an idea of where things were and how things worked, he began to devise a plan. He kept up his facade for long enough for his master to warm up to the fact that he was the best-behaved slave of the lot, and he was eventually given a spot of privilege as his master's personal slave. He learned even more about the grounds in this time, along with several places one could hide, and a couple of other potential escape routes.
After another two weeks of plotting, James finally came up with two solid courses of action, though he also began to run into trouble at this point. He noticed that one of the guards would tend to eyeball James fairly often. He didn't realize it, but the guard had been under the employment of another master that previously owned James. He had recognized him, and he picked up on some slight changes in James' behavior, and the way he held himself. Unfortunately, it would be his downfall, and when James had finally launched himself into action, they were prepared.
He was caught shortly after he initiated his plan, and while under normal circumstances he would have been executed, his master took his track record into account and instead sentenced him to a week's worth of torture, starting with a lashing in front of every other slave. His fiery rage caught up with him, and he cursed and threatened and verbally abused his captors in between his screams of pain, which resulted in more lashes. At one point, he had implored his fellow slaves to rise up and do something, that the captors couldn't take on a mass rebellion. He eventually passed out from the pain, and for trying to incite a rebellion his sentence was changed to a public execution, along with a couple of slaves who had taken his words to heart. The aforementioned slaves were executed a day later, but James still had a week of torture to endure before his final day.
It was at this point that he came down with a cold, though this, of course, didn't stop the floggings. He would wake up to either a kick in the ribs, a surprise waterboarding, or any other number of forms of torture, and go to sleep exhausted and in complete pain, but not broken. He began plotting another escape, though this time there would be blood. His sickness passed on the day before his execution, and it was at this time that James would get out. He had spent the entire week weakening the anchoring points on his shackles, and he was confident a good yank would make at least one of them break.
That morning, James was met by a lone guard. He was ready for him, and as soon as the guard went to put on a tighter pair of shackles, James broke one of his arm shackles out of the wall and hit the guard hard enough to knock him unconscious. It took a few tries, but he managed to get the other arm shackle off, which gave him enough room to get the keys from the guard and free his legs. He then took a moment to crush the guard's windpipe under his foot, then relieve him of his clothes and weapons. By the end of the day, there would be exactly seventeen dead guards, three dead assistants, two hundred twenty four newly-freed slaves, and a traumatized master who would soon be mauled by said slaves. James slipped out while the others were getting their fill and began stocking up on supplies for his journey. He could still hear his former master screaming in pain as he walked away. Neither he nor anyone else noticed his eyes change color, nor the thin slits that his pupils became.
He eventually found his way to Russel City, where he sought medical treatment, which is when he discovered his inexplicable eye mutation. After someone explained what it meant for him, and he was released from the hospital he was at, he began to train and equip himself for a brutal assault on the slavers. Though first, he had to learn what these weird symbols written in these "books" mean. Before that, he would need to make a livelihood, and the easiest way to do that was to join a scavenging crew. The selection process was a piece of cake to James, who had been physically conditioned for most of his life, and he was also, oddly enough, one of the most efficient scavengers in his crew. He would always get bonuses from several of his finds, though he felt it was sort of unfair to the others. Still, he needed the money.
It took him a couple of years, but finally, at the age of 16, James could read, although somewhat roughly. He realized that he never had a last name, and thus assumed the surname "Knight" at that point. It was also at this point that he began to study certain types of weapons, particularly firearms. He gained an understanding of how some of the guns of old worked, specifically the infamous Russian AK-47 design, with it's several updates and permutations. He became so engrossed by it's simple design that he decided to buy one, a relatively new variant called the AKS-74. He got it in somewhat rough condition, but with his knowledge of how it worked, and some consultation from a machinist, he got the rifle in good working order with a few modifications and a bit of elbow grease. With his self-teaching nearing a close, he decided to get a tattoo of a wolf to signify the vengeance he would soon wreak.
After roughly a year of working, training, and tuning his AK, James started to lose sight of his vendetta, and even started to force his previous memories from his head, even though some of it was missing to begin with. His lust for vengeance was becoming less and less tangible as he became more integrated with an actual society. While he didn't deny that life was still hard, and sometimes dangerous, he shifted his focus from wanting to go back and finish what he had planned on doing to simply putting it behind him and moving on. While it allowed him to do just that, it would take a toll on his psyche.
After building up some funds, James decided to move to Aspin to take advantage of the advanced education opportunities there and look into becoming a psychologist. This had nothing to do with his own past, he simply gained a curiosity for the way the human mind works. To help fund his continued education, James took advantage of his abilities and became an escort for The Gaens' expeditionary teams. He learned several things rather quickly at this point, and it took a bit of effort to keep the circumstantial knowledge that he gained from his various escortees from getting mixed up with his actual studies.
Roughly a year after moving to Aspin, he began to feel the psychological effects of having suppressed his memories of his past, which manifested themselves in occasional extreme fits of paranoia and social withdrawal, one of which prompted him to compulsively buy a CZ-75 pistol. He had failed to properly inspect it and missed the damaged ejector; something he would have picked up on had he been stable at the time. He never sought help or consulted anyone about it, because somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that it meant recounting his traumatic past. His suppression of his memories as a slave caused all the rage and hatred he had previously felt towards the slavers to convert fully to terror and paranoia, and worse yet James refused to believe it.
Though, on the other hand, trying to put the past behind him has made James into a confident optimist for the most part, and at the age of 25 he graduated with a certificate in psychology. With all that said and done, James decided to return to Russel City in search of a job in his new field, or if all else failed, reunite with his old scavenging squad. Unfortunately, fate seemed to have other plans for him, and he ended up joining another immortal named Alex to aid her in creating a haven for immortals in the wake of Motum Diversum's increasingly oppressive policies towards them, and the subsequent fall of Russel City.
After spending a couple of months in Isolone, and without a large turnout, James still held fast, mostly motivated by his curiosity as to Alex's character, and why exactly she reminded him of someone. Sometime during the third month, a large number of Forsaken members turned up and threatened to return with an overwhelming force to evict the Immortals. Feeling that they were either bluffing or overly confident in their abilities, they refused to budge, and a battle broke out when a large battalion of Forsaken soldiers showed up three days later. Both sides sustained more losses than expected, both in terms of men and resources, and what little reconstruction of Isolone Alex and James managed to do ended up going up in smoke as the town was left in worse condition than they had found it in. Fearing more unnecessary bloodshed, James and Alex made the decision to withdraw, evacuating as many immortals as they could and beating a hasty retreat to Dead-End.
The survivors managed to get off okay, coming out with enough supplies to return to civilization, but shortly after re-establishing themselves, most of the group, James included, decided to split off and go their separate ways. Ever since then, James has spent his life taking odd jobs, mostly by scavenging or making escorts for caravans. The attack, however, left him demoralized, insofar as he became somewhat withdrawn and began doing jobs that he would otherwise reject due to their dubious nature, or that of his employers. He has also taken on a habit of hoarding things he considers valuable in a stash outside of New Sicily. He often makes the rounds between there, Harlem, Wolfwater, Laguna, and Fairbury.
10 months later James was born, but at that point their funds were completely drained. Still, Lisa and Harry had a plan. After roughly six more months of just barely scraping by, a band of slavers came through. Lisa and Harry knew that they would pay good money for a healthy infant, one that they could easily mold into a hard-working grunt. That was their plan, after all, to sell James off at the nearest opportunity. They took their newfound money and decided to move to Russel City, where they thought they would find a better life. Unfortunately for them, they were both murdered by some of the other Dead-End residents who didn't take too kindly to them having a kid for the sole purpose of selling him off.
James was raised in dismal conditions by the slavers until he was about six, at which point they put him straight to work. Of course, him still being pretty young, he couldn't do much more than run errands. Still, even with his relatively "easy" job, he would often make small mistakes that earned him either a disciplinary punch, or a day-long time out in a pitch black vault. James started to build a resentment towards his masters, which earned him even more disciplinary measures, until he was eventually told to fight another child of roughly equal age. He got a dislocated shoulder from the fight, along with a broken nose, several bruises, and a couple of shallow cuts. He didn't even put up a fight.
This pattern continued until James effectively broke and completely surrendered himself. It took him roughly three months to get to that point. The authoritarianism and violence became the status-quo. Those who disobeyed were whipped, and those who tried to escape were executed. James didn't want to be tortured or killed. James didn't want anything. He became an empty shell of a person. He disconnected himself from everything and just did what he was told.
Six years and two trades later, James is constantly referred to as one of the best-behaved slaves ever. He hasn't questioned any of his masters in years, and is constantly satisfying his masters in whatever way possible. He also hasn't spoken in years, which, while it is advantageous to him in many ways, it is concerning to everyone else. Even some of his masters became concerned, though more in the sense that they were concerned James would snap, or become completely catatonic and useless. Unbeknownst to anyone else, James actually regained some lucidity around this point, though his attitude was still as withdrawn as ever.
Two years later, at the age of 14, James was going to be at the next trade, along with several of the other slaves under his master's ownership. His master spent some time with James, telling him exactly how to behave, not like he didn't already know. He wordlessly nodded anyways. At the trade, he was dressed in the best garb his master would put together for a slave. He was paraded under his title of "The Quiet One" and was even recognized by some of the other traders. At one point, James noticed something. A little girl, a few years younger than him, also at the trade. She never noticed him, but he noticed her. The abject despair and misery in her eyes spoke volumes, but even more jarring was the realization that James hadn't seen a single other child slave in over 5 years. What happened to those whom he was with before? That's right, they all died, either at the hands of their masters or from the results of severe neglect.
At that thought, James felt a surge of newfound hatred and rebellion. He had found a purpose. He was done with this shit. He was going to get out, and then he was going to make the slavers pay for what they've done. But, as much as he might have wanted to, he knew he couldn't just go at it, that was a good way to get killed. He wasn't going to out-brute them, but he could outsmart them. They still thought he was a complacent little drone, and he would use that to his advantage in the coming weeks.
He was sold to another master during the trade. That put a hold on his plans, since he was now in unfamiliar territory, but it ended up working to his advantage. His new master had fewer guards. Not by much, but still fewer. Once James had been in service at this place for a couple of weeks and had an idea of where things were and how things worked, he began to devise a plan. He kept up his facade for long enough for his master to warm up to the fact that he was the best-behaved slave of the lot, and he was eventually given a spot of privilege as his master's personal slave. He learned even more about the grounds in this time, along with several places one could hide, and a couple of other potential escape routes.
After another two weeks of plotting, James finally came up with two solid courses of action, though he also began to run into trouble at this point. He noticed that one of the guards would tend to eyeball James fairly often. He didn't realize it, but the guard had been under the employment of another master that previously owned James. He had recognized him, and he picked up on some slight changes in James' behavior, and the way he held himself. Unfortunately, it would be his downfall, and when James had finally launched himself into action, they were prepared.
He was caught shortly after he initiated his plan, and while under normal circumstances he would have been executed, his master took his track record into account and instead sentenced him to a week's worth of torture, starting with a lashing in front of every other slave. His fiery rage caught up with him, and he cursed and threatened and verbally abused his captors in between his screams of pain, which resulted in more lashes. At one point, he had implored his fellow slaves to rise up and do something, that the captors couldn't take on a mass rebellion. He eventually passed out from the pain, and for trying to incite a rebellion his sentence was changed to a public execution, along with a couple of slaves who had taken his words to heart. The aforementioned slaves were executed a day later, but James still had a week of torture to endure before his final day.
It was at this point that he came down with a cold, though this, of course, didn't stop the floggings. He would wake up to either a kick in the ribs, a surprise waterboarding, or any other number of forms of torture, and go to sleep exhausted and in complete pain, but not broken. He began plotting another escape, though this time there would be blood. His sickness passed on the day before his execution, and it was at this time that James would get out. He had spent the entire week weakening the anchoring points on his shackles, and he was confident a good yank would make at least one of them break.
That morning, James was met by a lone guard. He was ready for him, and as soon as the guard went to put on a tighter pair of shackles, James broke one of his arm shackles out of the wall and hit the guard hard enough to knock him unconscious. It took a few tries, but he managed to get the other arm shackle off, which gave him enough room to get the keys from the guard and free his legs. He then took a moment to crush the guard's windpipe under his foot, then relieve him of his clothes and weapons. By the end of the day, there would be exactly seventeen dead guards, three dead assistants, two hundred twenty four newly-freed slaves, and a traumatized master who would soon be mauled by said slaves. James slipped out while the others were getting their fill and began stocking up on supplies for his journey. He could still hear his former master screaming in pain as he walked away. Neither he nor anyone else noticed his eyes change color, nor the thin slits that his pupils became.
He eventually found his way to Russel City, where he sought medical treatment, which is when he discovered his inexplicable eye mutation. After someone explained what it meant for him, and he was released from the hospital he was at, he began to train and equip himself for a brutal assault on the slavers. Though first, he had to learn what these weird symbols written in these "books" mean. Before that, he would need to make a livelihood, and the easiest way to do that was to join a scavenging crew. The selection process was a piece of cake to James, who had been physically conditioned for most of his life, and he was also, oddly enough, one of the most efficient scavengers in his crew. He would always get bonuses from several of his finds, though he felt it was sort of unfair to the others. Still, he needed the money.
It took him a couple of years, but finally, at the age of 16, James could read, although somewhat roughly. He realized that he never had a last name, and thus assumed the surname "Knight" at that point. It was also at this point that he began to study certain types of weapons, particularly firearms. He gained an understanding of how some of the guns of old worked, specifically the infamous Russian AK-47 design, with it's several updates and permutations. He became so engrossed by it's simple design that he decided to buy one, a relatively new variant called the AKS-74. He got it in somewhat rough condition, but with his knowledge of how it worked, and some consultation from a machinist, he got the rifle in good working order with a few modifications and a bit of elbow grease. With his self-teaching nearing a close, he decided to get a tattoo of a wolf to signify the vengeance he would soon wreak.
After roughly a year of working, training, and tuning his AK, James started to lose sight of his vendetta, and even started to force his previous memories from his head, even though some of it was missing to begin with. His lust for vengeance was becoming less and less tangible as he became more integrated with an actual society. While he didn't deny that life was still hard, and sometimes dangerous, he shifted his focus from wanting to go back and finish what he had planned on doing to simply putting it behind him and moving on. While it allowed him to do just that, it would take a toll on his psyche.
After building up some funds, James decided to move to Aspin to take advantage of the advanced education opportunities there and look into becoming a psychologist. This had nothing to do with his own past, he simply gained a curiosity for the way the human mind works. To help fund his continued education, James took advantage of his abilities and became an escort for The Gaens' expeditionary teams. He learned several things rather quickly at this point, and it took a bit of effort to keep the circumstantial knowledge that he gained from his various escortees from getting mixed up with his actual studies.
Roughly a year after moving to Aspin, he began to feel the psychological effects of having suppressed his memories of his past, which manifested themselves in occasional extreme fits of paranoia and social withdrawal, one of which prompted him to compulsively buy a CZ-75 pistol. He had failed to properly inspect it and missed the damaged ejector; something he would have picked up on had he been stable at the time. He never sought help or consulted anyone about it, because somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that it meant recounting his traumatic past. His suppression of his memories as a slave caused all the rage and hatred he had previously felt towards the slavers to convert fully to terror and paranoia, and worse yet James refused to believe it.
Though, on the other hand, trying to put the past behind him has made James into a confident optimist for the most part, and at the age of 25 he graduated with a certificate in psychology. With all that said and done, James decided to return to Russel City in search of a job in his new field, or if all else failed, reunite with his old scavenging squad. Unfortunately, fate seemed to have other plans for him, and he ended up joining another immortal named Alex to aid her in creating a haven for immortals in the wake of Motum Diversum's increasingly oppressive policies towards them, and the subsequent fall of Russel City.
After spending a couple of months in Isolone, and without a large turnout, James still held fast, mostly motivated by his curiosity as to Alex's character, and why exactly she reminded him of someone. Sometime during the third month, a large number of Forsaken members turned up and threatened to return with an overwhelming force to evict the Immortals. Feeling that they were either bluffing or overly confident in their abilities, they refused to budge, and a battle broke out when a large battalion of Forsaken soldiers showed up three days later. Both sides sustained more losses than expected, both in terms of men and resources, and what little reconstruction of Isolone Alex and James managed to do ended up going up in smoke as the town was left in worse condition than they had found it in. Fearing more unnecessary bloodshed, James and Alex made the decision to withdraw, evacuating as many immortals as they could and beating a hasty retreat to Dead-End.
The survivors managed to get off okay, coming out with enough supplies to return to civilization, but shortly after re-establishing themselves, most of the group, James included, decided to split off and go their separate ways. Ever since then, James has spent his life taking odd jobs, mostly by scavenging or making escorts for caravans. The attack, however, left him demoralized, insofar as he became somewhat withdrawn and began doing jobs that he would otherwise reject due to their dubious nature, or that of his employers. He has also taken on a habit of hoarding things he considers valuable in a stash outside of New Sicily. He often makes the rounds between there, Harlem, Wolfwater, Laguna, and Fairbury.
Gear
Weapons:
- AKS-74: An older model Soviet AKS-74. It's very dirty and has some superficial damage, but it works about as well as it should.
- CZ-75: A newer, compact model of the CZ-75. It looks far better than the AK, but the ejector has been damaged, resulting in the occasional double-feed or stovepipe. After the battle at Isolone, James made it a point to find the parts and make the necessary repairs to this pistol, and it is now fully functional.
Armor: James rarely wears armor, but when he does, he prefers light armor that doesn't restrict mobility. Generally, a light vest or plate worn under his usual jacket, a brace on his left forearm, and kneepads are the most he would wear.
Ammunition
Dirty Rounds:
- 46x 5.45mm loose bullets
- 35x 9mm loose bullets
Mid-Grade Hand-Loads:
- 90x 5.45mm in 3 30-round AK magazines
- 42x 9mm in 3 14-round CZ magazines
- 8x 9mm in 1 50-round box
Military-Grade Ammunition:
- 7x 7.62mm loose bullets
- 13x 5.45mm loose bullets
- 11x 9mm loose bullets
- 4x 5.56mm loose bullets
Luggage
Rucksack:
- 1x Avtomat Kalashnikova user guide
- 3x cans of food
- 2x bottles of water
- 1x razor
- 1x compass
- 1x map
- 1x flask filled with whiskey
Messenger Bag:
- 2x bandages
- 1x flashlight
- 1x lighter
- loose bullets (see above)
Holster:
- CZ-75
Thigh Pouch:
- 3x AK magazine
- 3x CZ magazine
Immortalis Information
Manifested Phenomena: Perception
Unique Abilities
- Almost Extrasensory: James could hear a mouse fart from half a mile away. Okay, maybe not, but still, James has extensive sensory powers which are far better than any normal human would ever have. To the uninitiated, it can seem as though James actually has a sixth sense.
- Pinpoint Accuracy: Just as his senses are more powerful, they are also finely tuned such that James can accurately pinpoint the source of any one stimulus, as well as isolate a specific stimulus from the ambiance.
- Accelerated Sight: Though James can't activate this ability on demand, often times, when he finds himself in a tense situation, James' perception of time can slow down, giving him more time to think and act accordingly. This can make his reflexes seem extremely good, but that's not exactly the case.
Strengths
- Evasion: Having been a slave for the first fourteen years of his life, James eventually learned the importance of not being seen. It's also a lot easier to avoid detection when your powers of observation allow you to reliably tell where your pursuers are.
- Telegraphing: A combination of him perceiving time more slowly in combat, and his own eye for detail, James can often predict how an attack will be made, which gives him time to either counter or avoid the attack. Conversely, he can tell when an enemy is distracted enough to execute an efficient attack.
- Son of Kalashnikov: James is extensively familiar with how rifles of the AK family operate, and can diagnose and fix numerous problems that they may have, time and tools permitting. He is also familiar with Russian weaponry in general, though not to as great an extent as AKs specifically.
Weaknesses
- They're Coming to Take Me Away: Despite himself, James will sometimes suffer from fits of crippling paranoia as a result of his past. These only happen on occasion, and the fits usually end within a couple of hours, but he is a complete wreck for the meantime. He knows there's a trigger, but he has yet to find it.
- I'd Rather Forget: Another result of his past, James tends to avoid the very subject, as does his mind suppress his memory of it. When he does recount it, he can become withdrawn, and his risk of experiencing a paranoia fit increases. Unfortunately, this also prevents him from getting proper help, thus perpetuating a vicious cycle.
- Interference: Even though James can filter out unnecessary noise from his senses, he can still experience a sort of sensory overload from having too many stimuli to accurately focus on one. For example, James wouldn't be able to accurately pick one voice out from a reasonably large crowd. In addition, the effects of psychotropic drugs are often amplified with him, as are the side effects.
Name: Jacob Taylor
Alias: Exile
Nationality: English
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Physique/Appearance/Clothing:
Exile isn't very big, standing at 5'9" and weighing only about 67 kilograms. His hair is light brown, and pretty long for a stalker, while his eyes are a faded green. You can tell he's not the strongest guy around, but his muscles are well toned at least. His clothing is somewhat... non-traditional for most stalkers. He wears a green woodland Battle Dress Uniform with a similarly colored shemagh over a black shirt, but his pants are a pair of thin dark blue jeans, and in place of the usual pair of combat boots he wears a pair of lighter, more casual-looking black canvas boots. He also generally wears black fingerless gloves, a watch on his left arm, and a necklace with a 7.62x54mmR casing.
Spoken Languages: English (fluent); French (functioning); Russian (rudimentary/circumstantial knowledge)
Faction: Loner. Former Freedom with ties to them and the Sentinels.
Reputation: Exile is known for practically being the namesake of a loner. Though he used to be in Freedom, it was mostly a gimmick title they gave him because they were low on men and he helped them out fairly regularly. Still, he does at least somewhat adhere to Freedom's ideals, in that he believes the zone should be open to those who wish to come, though lately, with the zone taking the strange turns that it has, his ideals have been shifting a bit. He still sees the zone as a wonder to the world which holds the key to solving many of humanity's problems, but he also recognizes that it's expansion, if gone unchecked, will put several people who want nothing to do with the zone at risk, thus he has left Freedom, though he has several contacts within Freedom.
Aside from his loyalties and ideals, he is known for helping stalkers in need and hunting people who give others a hard time, and a lot of people hold him in high regard for that. He has never failed to ask a passerby if they need an extra can of food, or a bandage, or something like that, and he has been known to give stalkers who are shot within inches of their lives that one bandage that stops them from bleeding out. He's a giver to those who need or deserve it, and a taker for those who themselves take. He's one of those people who are more likely to fight for a friend than for himself, and while that all sounds a little too idyllic, he does what he does, and he does it well. The only problem is that he's generally quiet and doesn't form very personal relationships easily.
There's only one person which he is known to maintain permanent contact with, and that's the person who came to the zone with him. No one really knows who he is, aside from the staff at the Sentinel base in Petrovsk.
Weapons/Ammo:
-AKS-74u w/PSO-1 scope (150 x 5.45x39mm rounds)
-OTs-33 Pernach (120 x 9x18mm rounds)
-Wakizashi Short Sword
Gear:
Backpack:
On person:
Stashes:
-Old Cordon: 1x Makarov PM, 1x Sawed-off TOZ-66, 40x 9x18mm rounds, 24x 12x70 buck shells, 5,000 RU.
-Yantar: 1x VEPR 54R, 50x 7.62x54mmR rounds, 10,000 RU, 5,000 EUR.
Strengths:
Perceptive - Exile has always had a talent for picking up on things others might miss, and this can allow him to tell when something bad is about to happen.
Kalashnikov's Unrelated Son - Exile knows every AK-type rifle inside and out, and can easily diagnose and fix mechanical/maintenance issues if he has the right tools.
Quasi-Ninja - Exile is a regular practitioner of parkour, making him good at navigating abnormal terrain quickly.
Swordsman - Exile is one of the exceedingly few stalkers who uses a sword, and one of the even fewer who know how to use it. Despite what most may think, he is really good at fending off mutants with it.
Seasoned Shooter - Exile's aim with most firearms is not exceptional, but it's above par compared to a lot of stalkers.
The Twitch - As some stalkers do, Exile has developed a twitch which can alert him to an imminent emission.
Mental Map - Exile knows the zone quite well outside of the Red Forest, and is often employed as a guide.
Weaknesses:
True Loner - Exile rarely works in groups, making him somewhat enigmatic given his philanthropic nature. If ever he needs to ask for help, there's not many people he can reliably call upon.
Troubled Past - Exile's past is unknown to everyone except him and exactly one other stalker, and he will avoid the subject whenever it comes up. At least one stalker has taken note of a time in which Exile seemed to exhibit the "thousand-yard stare," suggesting that he may suffer from PTSD.
Mutant Bait - While most of the common mutants don't give him much problems, some of the rarer mutants will freak him out. Bloodsuckers specifically scare the shit out of him, not to mention any number of mutants he has yet to see for himself. If it's something he hasn't seen before, and it's ugly enough, you bet he'll turn and run before fighting it.
Anomaly fodder - Exile has never been artifact hunting, thus he never really learned how to navigate anomaly fields. He can avoid a lone anomaly easy enough, but he would find a field or cluster of them to be too dangerous to traverse without help.
Alias: Exile
Nationality: English
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Physique/Appearance/Clothing:
Exile isn't very big, standing at 5'9" and weighing only about 67 kilograms. His hair is light brown, and pretty long for a stalker, while his eyes are a faded green. You can tell he's not the strongest guy around, but his muscles are well toned at least. His clothing is somewhat... non-traditional for most stalkers. He wears a green woodland Battle Dress Uniform with a similarly colored shemagh over a black shirt, but his pants are a pair of thin dark blue jeans, and in place of the usual pair of combat boots he wears a pair of lighter, more casual-looking black canvas boots. He also generally wears black fingerless gloves, a watch on his left arm, and a necklace with a 7.62x54mmR casing.
Spoken Languages: English (fluent); French (functioning); Russian (rudimentary/circumstantial knowledge)
Faction: Loner. Former Freedom with ties to them and the Sentinels.
Reputation: Exile is known for practically being the namesake of a loner. Though he used to be in Freedom, it was mostly a gimmick title they gave him because they were low on men and he helped them out fairly regularly. Still, he does at least somewhat adhere to Freedom's ideals, in that he believes the zone should be open to those who wish to come, though lately, with the zone taking the strange turns that it has, his ideals have been shifting a bit. He still sees the zone as a wonder to the world which holds the key to solving many of humanity's problems, but he also recognizes that it's expansion, if gone unchecked, will put several people who want nothing to do with the zone at risk, thus he has left Freedom, though he has several contacts within Freedom.
Aside from his loyalties and ideals, he is known for helping stalkers in need and hunting people who give others a hard time, and a lot of people hold him in high regard for that. He has never failed to ask a passerby if they need an extra can of food, or a bandage, or something like that, and he has been known to give stalkers who are shot within inches of their lives that one bandage that stops them from bleeding out. He's a giver to those who need or deserve it, and a taker for those who themselves take. He's one of those people who are more likely to fight for a friend than for himself, and while that all sounds a little too idyllic, he does what he does, and he does it well. The only problem is that he's generally quiet and doesn't form very personal relationships easily.
There's only one person which he is known to maintain permanent contact with, and that's the person who came to the zone with him. No one really knows who he is, aside from the staff at the Sentinel base in Petrovsk.
Weapons/Ammo:
-AKS-74u w/PSO-1 scope (150 x 5.45x39mm rounds)
-OTs-33 Pernach (120 x 9x18mm rounds)
-Wakizashi Short Sword
Gear:
Backpack:
- 3 bottles of water
- 3 energy drinks
- 1 bottle of vodka
- 3 cans of food
- 3 loaves of stale bread
- 2 medkits
- 5 bandages
- 1 morphine auto-injector
- 1 small gun cleaning/repair kit
- 1 sleeping bag
- 1 pen and notebook
On person:
- PDA
- Headlamp
- Several Bolts
- Respirator
- Geiger Counter
- 14,000 RU
Stashes:
-Old Cordon: 1x Makarov PM, 1x Sawed-off TOZ-66, 40x 9x18mm rounds, 24x 12x70 buck shells, 5,000 RU.
-Yantar: 1x VEPR 54R, 50x 7.62x54mmR rounds, 10,000 RU, 5,000 EUR.
Strengths:
Perceptive - Exile has always had a talent for picking up on things others might miss, and this can allow him to tell when something bad is about to happen.
Kalashnikov's Unrelated Son - Exile knows every AK-type rifle inside and out, and can easily diagnose and fix mechanical/maintenance issues if he has the right tools.
Quasi-Ninja - Exile is a regular practitioner of parkour, making him good at navigating abnormal terrain quickly.
Swordsman - Exile is one of the exceedingly few stalkers who uses a sword, and one of the even fewer who know how to use it. Despite what most may think, he is really good at fending off mutants with it.
Seasoned Shooter - Exile's aim with most firearms is not exceptional, but it's above par compared to a lot of stalkers.
The Twitch - As some stalkers do, Exile has developed a twitch which can alert him to an imminent emission.
Mental Map - Exile knows the zone quite well outside of the Red Forest, and is often employed as a guide.
Weaknesses:
True Loner - Exile rarely works in groups, making him somewhat enigmatic given his philanthropic nature. If ever he needs to ask for help, there's not many people he can reliably call upon.
Troubled Past - Exile's past is unknown to everyone except him and exactly one other stalker, and he will avoid the subject whenever it comes up. At least one stalker has taken note of a time in which Exile seemed to exhibit the "thousand-yard stare," suggesting that he may suffer from PTSD.
Mutant Bait - While most of the common mutants don't give him much problems, some of the rarer mutants will freak him out. Bloodsuckers specifically scare the shit out of him, not to mention any number of mutants he has yet to see for himself. If it's something he hasn't seen before, and it's ugly enough, you bet he'll turn and run before fighting it.
Anomaly fodder - Exile has never been artifact hunting, thus he never really learned how to navigate anomaly fields. He can avoid a lone anomaly easy enough, but he would find a field or cluster of them to be too dangerous to traverse without help.
Name: Jacob Logan Taylor.
Preferred Name/Nickname: Jake.
Age: 19.
Gender: Male.
Housing Preferences: No preference.
Major: Physics.
Minor: Russian Language.
Extracurricular Activity: Party Animal.
What do you feel is your best natural ability?: Intelligence.
What do you feel is your weakest natural ability?: Strength.
What languages do you speak?: English; Russian.
What do you feel your skill set is?: Jake is really a jack of all trades, though there are things that he could be seen as standing out in. He's a fairly quick learner about technical things in general, and has a good memory to back it up. In particular he is good at figuring out how machines work, and will sometimes take things apart for the sake of learning how they work and familiarizing himself with them. He claims he could do it with an engine block, but he would never actually do it on a working vehicle for fear that he does get something wrong putting it back together. He is also a knowledgeable and experienced shooter and can learn how a firearm works, given a few minutes of tinkering and familiarization. The same applies for his schoolwork, and he is quick to grasp and retain ideas, concepts and theories related to his studies. There are certain things that he doesn't really get, but can do anyways; a good example being that he is a good singer but doesn't know anything about musical theory.
Hindrances: Jake sometimes has problems keeping his mouth shut and might say something a bit out of line. His reasons are generally good, or at least well-founded, but it has landed him in trouble before. He also generally has problems when it comes to dedication, particularly in anything work-related. He is also one of those types of people who is concerned more about others' well being than his own, and he has done things and taken falls for friends, family, and even complete strangers in some cases. Additionally, he has a strong hatred of heat, and he can become irritable if exposed to hot environments for prolonged periods (he would have gone to college out of state if the tuition weren't more expensive). Last but not least, and he'll never admit it, but if Jake notices something off, like if he thinks a car has been following him, or he hears something weird, he will get apprehensive and paranoid, which is part of why he always has his knife with him. Most of the time he writes it off as just something and gets over it, but there are times when he becomes truly spooked, and in these cases he tends to get defensive and stop thinking clearly until he thinks it's safe. It's not that he scares easy, more like he tends to get anxious when he has insufficient data about a situation, and he hates surprises.
Helpful Edge: Even though Jake has gotten into trouble on multiple occasions, he has a sort of charismatic presence that prevents him from getting the fullest extent of any punishment. It's not that he doesn't get in trouble, but he almost always receives a less severe punishment than would be expected. Most of the reason he isn't doing worse in school due to his carefree behavior is because he learns things quickly and has good memory, plus he actually attends every lecture unlike some of his drunken cohorts. He also has a way with keeping cool in situations where he knows what he's dealing with, and can think quickly under pressure, so long as the aforementioned requisite is met. Most importantly is probably his instinct and insightful nature, and while he can't predict the future, he does often get good or bad vibes about things.
Vehicle Registration: Lime Green 2003 Kawasaki KLX400R.
Appearance: Jake is pretty much average as far as appearances go. He stands at 5' 9" and weighs about 145 lbs. He's far from out of shape, and his thin figure lends to that to an extent, but he's also not particularly in shape. He has green eyes and wavy/curly brown hair, which he tries to keep straightened. He'll wear a black beanie if he doesn't have it straightened for whatever reason. He tries to keep his face clear of hair, but sometimes he'll allow a five o'clock shadow to grow in on days that he feels too lazy to shave.
He usually wears relatively plain clothes, generally a solid-colored t-shirt or v-neck, blue jeans, and converse. Sometimes he'll wear a complimentary casual button-down shirt along with the aforementioned undershirt. He keeps one 3 piece suit on hand, along with several dress shirts, vests and ties, all of which are solid colors. He also has a couple of hoodies, one of which has Black Mesa logos on the front and back, along with a Red Army winter coat for the colder months.
Interests: Partying hard, target shooting, Russian stuff, music, movies, physics, psychology, science, science fiction, writing.
Disinterests: Politics, government, religion, sports, Texas.
Personality: Jake is an overall easygoing guy with a kind heart and a good head on his shoulders, though he does often enjoy going to parties. He is rarely seen in a bad mood, unless you get him started on the state of the world. He tries to avoid thinking about it, but there are certain things that will make his blood boil, and when he gets started he says it like it is, and with no regrets. He's the sort of person who would charge headlong at an armed robber with nothing but a pocket knife just to spite them. He's not really brave in that sense, just stupid, feeling that he has a moral obligation to help others with no concern for his own safety, which lends to the idea that he has sort of a hero complex, even though he'll claim that this is not true. He would simply say that he does things without a second thought, because it's the right thing to do.
Equipment:
Fairly powerful laptop
Android phone
MP3 Player
Poker deck
Notebooks
Russian copy of Roadside Picnic
Spring-assisted knife
Mosin-Nagant (stored securely on-campus)
Brief Bit About Them: Jake was born and raised in Dallas as an only child, raised primarily by his father. His parents got divorced when he was 7 and his father got custody due to his mother having a drinking problem. Since then, life has been fairly uneventful for Jake. He has always done fairly well in school and picked up on things quite easily. His father was an avid shooter, and Jake shot his first gun when he was twelve, sparking his interest in shooting. His interest in Russia began not long afterwards when he shared a class in eighth grade with Sergei Grigorovich, a student from Russia. The two became friends, and even though Sergei already knew a fair amount of English, Jake offered to help him learn more in exchange for bits and pieces of Russian. The two remained friends all the way through High School, and Jake became well-versed in Russian by the time he graduated. Unlike Sergei, along with most of his friends, Jake didn't know what to do after High School, despite having earned several thousands of dollars in scholarship money. He decided to take a year off from schooling, thinking that it would give him time to decide what to do, and attend some parties on the side. He knew he'd have to apply fairly early to get accepted to any good colleges, so he applied for ETU in early November, shortly before his 19th birthday. He has since been accepted; the scholarships covering tuition while his dad pays for housing. All in all, he's happy to be moving forward with his life.
Notes: Even though Jake is already fairly fluent in Russian, he figures minoring in it couldn't hurt, plus it's practically a free second degree. That shit looks good on a resume.
Preferred Name/Nickname: Jake.
Age: 19.
Gender: Male.
Housing Preferences: No preference.
Major: Physics.
Minor: Russian Language.
Extracurricular Activity: Party Animal.
What do you feel is your best natural ability?: Intelligence.
What do you feel is your weakest natural ability?: Strength.
What languages do you speak?: English; Russian.
What do you feel your skill set is?: Jake is really a jack of all trades, though there are things that he could be seen as standing out in. He's a fairly quick learner about technical things in general, and has a good memory to back it up. In particular he is good at figuring out how machines work, and will sometimes take things apart for the sake of learning how they work and familiarizing himself with them. He claims he could do it with an engine block, but he would never actually do it on a working vehicle for fear that he does get something wrong putting it back together. He is also a knowledgeable and experienced shooter and can learn how a firearm works, given a few minutes of tinkering and familiarization. The same applies for his schoolwork, and he is quick to grasp and retain ideas, concepts and theories related to his studies. There are certain things that he doesn't really get, but can do anyways; a good example being that he is a good singer but doesn't know anything about musical theory.
Hindrances: Jake sometimes has problems keeping his mouth shut and might say something a bit out of line. His reasons are generally good, or at least well-founded, but it has landed him in trouble before. He also generally has problems when it comes to dedication, particularly in anything work-related. He is also one of those types of people who is concerned more about others' well being than his own, and he has done things and taken falls for friends, family, and even complete strangers in some cases. Additionally, he has a strong hatred of heat, and he can become irritable if exposed to hot environments for prolonged periods (he would have gone to college out of state if the tuition weren't more expensive). Last but not least, and he'll never admit it, but if Jake notices something off, like if he thinks a car has been following him, or he hears something weird, he will get apprehensive and paranoid, which is part of why he always has his knife with him. Most of the time he writes it off as just something and gets over it, but there are times when he becomes truly spooked, and in these cases he tends to get defensive and stop thinking clearly until he thinks it's safe. It's not that he scares easy, more like he tends to get anxious when he has insufficient data about a situation, and he hates surprises.
Helpful Edge: Even though Jake has gotten into trouble on multiple occasions, he has a sort of charismatic presence that prevents him from getting the fullest extent of any punishment. It's not that he doesn't get in trouble, but he almost always receives a less severe punishment than would be expected. Most of the reason he isn't doing worse in school due to his carefree behavior is because he learns things quickly and has good memory, plus he actually attends every lecture unlike some of his drunken cohorts. He also has a way with keeping cool in situations where he knows what he's dealing with, and can think quickly under pressure, so long as the aforementioned requisite is met. Most importantly is probably his instinct and insightful nature, and while he can't predict the future, he does often get good or bad vibes about things.
Vehicle Registration: Lime Green 2003 Kawasaki KLX400R.
Appearance: Jake is pretty much average as far as appearances go. He stands at 5' 9" and weighs about 145 lbs. He's far from out of shape, and his thin figure lends to that to an extent, but he's also not particularly in shape. He has green eyes and wavy/curly brown hair, which he tries to keep straightened. He'll wear a black beanie if he doesn't have it straightened for whatever reason. He tries to keep his face clear of hair, but sometimes he'll allow a five o'clock shadow to grow in on days that he feels too lazy to shave.
He usually wears relatively plain clothes, generally a solid-colored t-shirt or v-neck, blue jeans, and converse. Sometimes he'll wear a complimentary casual button-down shirt along with the aforementioned undershirt. He keeps one 3 piece suit on hand, along with several dress shirts, vests and ties, all of which are solid colors. He also has a couple of hoodies, one of which has Black Mesa logos on the front and back, along with a Red Army winter coat for the colder months.
Interests: Partying hard, target shooting, Russian stuff, music, movies, physics, psychology, science, science fiction, writing.
Disinterests: Politics, government, religion, sports, Texas.
Personality: Jake is an overall easygoing guy with a kind heart and a good head on his shoulders, though he does often enjoy going to parties. He is rarely seen in a bad mood, unless you get him started on the state of the world. He tries to avoid thinking about it, but there are certain things that will make his blood boil, and when he gets started he says it like it is, and with no regrets. He's the sort of person who would charge headlong at an armed robber with nothing but a pocket knife just to spite them. He's not really brave in that sense, just stupid, feeling that he has a moral obligation to help others with no concern for his own safety, which lends to the idea that he has sort of a hero complex, even though he'll claim that this is not true. He would simply say that he does things without a second thought, because it's the right thing to do.
Equipment:
Fairly powerful laptop
Android phone
MP3 Player
Poker deck
Notebooks
Russian copy of Roadside Picnic
Spring-assisted knife
Mosin-Nagant (stored securely on-campus)
Brief Bit About Them: Jake was born and raised in Dallas as an only child, raised primarily by his father. His parents got divorced when he was 7 and his father got custody due to his mother having a drinking problem. Since then, life has been fairly uneventful for Jake. He has always done fairly well in school and picked up on things quite easily. His father was an avid shooter, and Jake shot his first gun when he was twelve, sparking his interest in shooting. His interest in Russia began not long afterwards when he shared a class in eighth grade with Sergei Grigorovich, a student from Russia. The two became friends, and even though Sergei already knew a fair amount of English, Jake offered to help him learn more in exchange for bits and pieces of Russian. The two remained friends all the way through High School, and Jake became well-versed in Russian by the time he graduated. Unlike Sergei, along with most of his friends, Jake didn't know what to do after High School, despite having earned several thousands of dollars in scholarship money. He decided to take a year off from schooling, thinking that it would give him time to decide what to do, and attend some parties on the side. He knew he'd have to apply fairly early to get accepted to any good colleges, so he applied for ETU in early November, shortly before his 19th birthday. He has since been accepted; the scholarships covering tuition while his dad pays for housing. All in all, he's happy to be moving forward with his life.
Notes: Even though Jake is already fairly fluent in Russian, he figures minoring in it couldn't hurt, plus it's practically a free second degree. That shit looks good on a resume.
Name: James "JR" Rourke
Race: Human
Appearance: James is a pretty slender guy, standing at 5'10" and weighing 148 lbs. He has fairly attractive features; well-toned muscles, nice mid-length brown hair, green eyes, a shapely chin, and attractive facial features in general. He also looks pretty young, for thirty, and while he may look attractive, he also has a consistent look of annoyance or lack of giving a shit, which tends to repel some people.
Personality: In a nutshell, James has a very devil-may-care attitude, mixed in with blunt honesty, sarcasm, and a touch of jaded withdrawal.
Skills:
-Expert Weapons Engineering
-Skilled Mechanics
-Skilled Close Quarters Operations
-Amateur Hacking
Equipment:
-YF12 Blaster Pistol: A standard pistol used by many privateers, it functions by concentrating electrons into a plasma-like bolt of energy. It is powered by interchangeable power cells which function like magazines, containing enough power for anywhere between 45 and 55 bolts, depending on the quality of the cell. The YF12 has a fairly low range due to the nature of it's shots, with the bolts typically losing their efficacy between 50 and 60 meters and dissipating at 75 meters. They inflict fairly high damage, are pretty accurate, have low recoil, and a moderate rate of fire.
-KA76 Submachine Gun: A somewhat older design, the KA76 functions similar to a blaster, but instead uses physical ammunition consisting of ceramic flechettes containing a plasmoid liquid which is charged in the firing process and converted into pure plasma. The casing contains the charge far better than the YF12, resulting in better range, though it suffers in inflicting damage. It does, however, have a very high rate of fire, decent accuracy, very low recoil, and a magazine capacity of 120 rounds, making it ideal for close quarters.
-Weapons Maintenance Kit: "The Leo-tec advanced weapons maintenance kit contains all the tools you'll need to fix any gun, anywhere, anytime. Replacement parts sold separately."
-M23 Standard Headset and Uplink: An earpiece/headband which acts as a communicator, as well as relays vital information to the user's eyepiece. Typically used in squads where tactical information may be needed in a fraction of a second.
Bio: James was born and raised on Halloran, a cold planet inhabited by several different races. While civilized, the planet was also small and sparsely populated, and thus quite boring. There was never any sort of danger, and James was having none of that shit. He wanted to get out and explore the fringes of known space, and when he reached the age of 17 he got an opportunity to join the Sol Alliance Navy with the guarantee that he would be on an exploration vessel.
During training, he became enthralled with the mechanics of modern weaponry. Although he was trained as a CQC specialist to begin with, he was soon switched over to the position of weapons specialist, and within weeks he knew everything about the Alliance's small arms, along with several other weapons built by private manufacturers. When his training was finished, he was placed onboard a light expedition vessel. He and his crew marked several planets for future colonization, encountering all sorts of hostile wildlife, and on one occasion, a band of pirates.
After doing this for seven years or so, James began to actually get bored. Even exploring planets seemed to become nothing more than just going through the motions. Land here, shoot anything with teeth the size of your arm, drop some beacons and survey probes, maintain the squad's weapons, extract from the planet, repeat. Maybe it was the idea of procedure that put James off. He wanted more unpredictability, which he got when he left the Navy and became a privateer. He began to help on explorations with random people rather than a government entity, and that helped make things a bit more fun, but it still was basically the same thing as before. Still, it allowed him to build a reputation as someone who could handle himself and was virtually without fear, not to mention he knew his way around a gun more than pretty much anyone else. In his days of exploring, he never went a day without having his curiosity satisfied, but he went nearly every day without any real excitement.
When he heard about the appearance of the long-missing Lone Star, and that a crew was being assembled to enter the ship, he was more than interested in checking it out. This time, hopefully, he could satisfy both his curiosity and his need for some adrenaline.
Quotes:
"What can I say; shit happens."
"Hold your horses! Fixing a plasma rifle takes time, and if I'm not careful it can blow us all up."
"Well, that's a thing."
Kevin Jaeger
Summary
Kevin is a master of infiltration, wet work, and low-key operations. He is highly skilled in Krav Maga and proficient in the use of handguns, sniper rifles, and blunt melee weapons. He is generally a very calm, collected, and neutral person, giving him an almost cold visage when he is at work. He retains his focus and ensures that he never leaves a trace of his existence when he is doing a job. His deadpan attitude does, however, betray a sort of personal code of honor that he abides by, and it stops him from taking some jobs, either due to the nature of them, or the mark themselves. In one instance, he even took it upon himself to sabotage a potential employer because they tried to get him to assassinate a rising businessman who turned out to become a wealthy philanthropist. Additionally, he is typically cautious about what jobs he takes, and isn't afraid to decline one when he knows he'll be in over his head. One would think this would make him a risk in some cases, but his high success rate counterbalances his "moral shortcomings", as one person put it.
- - - - - - - - - -
Appearance
Kevin is a pretty skinny guy, standing at 5'10" and weighing about 147 lbs. He has a slightly muscular build, though it's hardly a "buff" look. He has dirty blond hair, which he typically keeps short and a little messy, and his eyes are a greenish color. He generally tries to stay clean shaven, though he'll occasionally get lazy and allow a 5 o'clock shadow to grow in before shaving it back off. He always dresses, more or less, business casual, though he'll never wear slacks, preferring jeans or other casual pants. A dress shirt, tie, and vest are almost always involved, and when he doesn't wear a coat, his sleeves are typically rolled up to the elbow.
- - - - - - - - - -
1. How old are you?
"That's easy. I'm 27."
2. Tell me about your family life. Are you parents still alive? Who raised you? Siblings? What do they do?
"As far as I know, my biological parents are still alive. I've lived with my mother for most of my childhood. I don't really know much about my biological father; he divorced my mother when I was two. She's re-married three times since then. My first step father was a prick, but at least he was fair. My second... I want to see him dead. Third died of a heart attack shortly after he and my mom married. My sister was born of my second step-father, about six years after me. She's the closest thing to what I'd call a family. Especially because of her prick fucking dad... Anyways, aside from my sister getting her master's at the New York Institute of Technology, I don't really know nor care much about my family."
3. Explain your closest relationships, especially those that you've dated or courted, or those who you never want to see again.
"You already know who I never want to see again. Prick. I'm just going to start calling him that from now on. Like I said, my sister is probably the closest thing to family I have. I've only dated one person briefly in high school. Haven't really seen or talked to her since, which I don't really mind. We didn't quite match up anyways."
4. What social class are you from? How has that shaped who you are?
"Middle class. My financial background is probably the least important thing in shaping myself as a person."
5. How did you get started doing what you do now?
"Someone told me I was good at infiltration, and after a few trials they referred me to this place. I've been working here ever since."
6. Who is your greatest hero or inspiration?
"Do you want the smart-ass version, or the realistic version? I'll give you the former; Jimmy Hoffa. No one's seen him since 1975, I wish I could disappear as easily."
7. What precious personal items do you carry with you always?
"Well, I keep a 20 Czech Koruna coin on me for toss-ups, but you won't see me cry if I lose it."
8. How do religion and prophesy play into your life?
"I've no need for such superstition."
9. What do you feel about myth and legend?
"It's interesting, and sometimes there are some meaningful lessons to be had from them, but that's all."
10. Tell me about your dealings with the military.
"My first step-father was in the military, and I know a bit about how they work from that, but that's all."
11. Tell me about your run-ins with the law.
"I got in trouble once for trespassing. I made sure I would never get caught again."
12. Who is your greatest confidant?
"I don't really have one, though I suppose the closest thing would be my sister."
13. Tell me about someone in your past you'd prefer to avoid. Who, and why?
"My second step-father; Prick. Mostly because I know I'll hardly be able to hold back the urge to put a bullet in his brain."
14. When you finally leave this life (hopefully a long time from now), what do you want to have been known for?
"As long as it wasn't this line of business, I don't really care."
15. You see a large bar of gold sitting in the street, and no one else seems to notice it. You think you have a moment before anyone else sees. What do you do?
"I would check to make sure traffic permitted, then go and pick it up. Who wouldn't? If someone gets to it before me, so be it."
16. Which side of the bed do you roll out of? How come?
"The side on my left; force of habit, nothing else."
17. Of the following choices, choose one at the expense of the rest: WEALTH. POWER. RESPECT. WISDOM. STRENGTH. LOYALTY. FAME.
"At the expense of the rest? None. I take pride in being a fairly well-rounded individual, I'm not going to pick any one of those above the others, though I will tell you which ones I prefer, in descending order. Strength, with wisdom being a close second. Respect and loyalty are also fairly important, and while power is nice to have, that's not really my business. Wealth... I only need enough to live comfortably, and I have no use for fame."
18. Tell me about your recent history.
"I've actually started college. Majoring in psychology and minoring in criminology; imagine the irony. Yeah, it's a weird combination, especially for someone like me, but I've always been interested in what makes people tick. I want to be able to take one look at someone and accurately categorize them, and then pin down their personality within a conversation. Maybe I watch too much TV, but I think there's something to profiling. Plus that shit's just cool, you know?
Aside from that it's pretty much business as usual. My job as a 'security consultant' pays the bills and leaves me with enough money to live quite comfortably. My last job was pretty straightforward, and I got to stretch my marksmanship skills for the first time in a while. Someone wanted me to take out his boss; apparently he was a prick. Killing him was the easy part. I was told that he was suicidal, so I just needed to help him out a bit as he was leaning over the edge of a balcony. He happened to land on his head too, shattering his skull; an unexpected convenience which nicely disguised the fact that there was a hole through it. It was messy, but it was almost like everything fell into place for that kill. No one suspected a thing."
- - - - - - - - - -
Miscellaneous Notes:
-Good piano player, though he'll do everything in his power to avoid being caught.
Summary
Kevin is a master of infiltration, wet work, and low-key operations. He is highly skilled in Krav Maga and proficient in the use of handguns, sniper rifles, and blunt melee weapons. He is generally a very calm, collected, and neutral person, giving him an almost cold visage when he is at work. He retains his focus and ensures that he never leaves a trace of his existence when he is doing a job. His deadpan attitude does, however, betray a sort of personal code of honor that he abides by, and it stops him from taking some jobs, either due to the nature of them, or the mark themselves. In one instance, he even took it upon himself to sabotage a potential employer because they tried to get him to assassinate a rising businessman who turned out to become a wealthy philanthropist. Additionally, he is typically cautious about what jobs he takes, and isn't afraid to decline one when he knows he'll be in over his head. One would think this would make him a risk in some cases, but his high success rate counterbalances his "moral shortcomings", as one person put it.
- - - - - - - - - -
Appearance
Kevin is a pretty skinny guy, standing at 5'10" and weighing about 147 lbs. He has a slightly muscular build, though it's hardly a "buff" look. He has dirty blond hair, which he typically keeps short and a little messy, and his eyes are a greenish color. He generally tries to stay clean shaven, though he'll occasionally get lazy and allow a 5 o'clock shadow to grow in before shaving it back off. He always dresses, more or less, business casual, though he'll never wear slacks, preferring jeans or other casual pants. A dress shirt, tie, and vest are almost always involved, and when he doesn't wear a coat, his sleeves are typically rolled up to the elbow.
- - - - - - - - - -
1. How old are you?
"That's easy. I'm 27."
2. Tell me about your family life. Are you parents still alive? Who raised you? Siblings? What do they do?
"As far as I know, my biological parents are still alive. I've lived with my mother for most of my childhood. I don't really know much about my biological father; he divorced my mother when I was two. She's re-married three times since then. My first step father was a prick, but at least he was fair. My second... I want to see him dead. Third died of a heart attack shortly after he and my mom married. My sister was born of my second step-father, about six years after me. She's the closest thing to what I'd call a family. Especially because of her prick fucking dad... Anyways, aside from my sister getting her master's at the New York Institute of Technology, I don't really know nor care much about my family."
3. Explain your closest relationships, especially those that you've dated or courted, or those who you never want to see again.
"You already know who I never want to see again. Prick. I'm just going to start calling him that from now on. Like I said, my sister is probably the closest thing to family I have. I've only dated one person briefly in high school. Haven't really seen or talked to her since, which I don't really mind. We didn't quite match up anyways."
4. What social class are you from? How has that shaped who you are?
"Middle class. My financial background is probably the least important thing in shaping myself as a person."
5. How did you get started doing what you do now?
"Someone told me I was good at infiltration, and after a few trials they referred me to this place. I've been working here ever since."
6. Who is your greatest hero or inspiration?
"Do you want the smart-ass version, or the realistic version? I'll give you the former; Jimmy Hoffa. No one's seen him since 1975, I wish I could disappear as easily."
7. What precious personal items do you carry with you always?
"Well, I keep a 20 Czech Koruna coin on me for toss-ups, but you won't see me cry if I lose it."
8. How do religion and prophesy play into your life?
"I've no need for such superstition."
9. What do you feel about myth and legend?
"It's interesting, and sometimes there are some meaningful lessons to be had from them, but that's all."
10. Tell me about your dealings with the military.
"My first step-father was in the military, and I know a bit about how they work from that, but that's all."
11. Tell me about your run-ins with the law.
"I got in trouble once for trespassing. I made sure I would never get caught again."
12. Who is your greatest confidant?
"I don't really have one, though I suppose the closest thing would be my sister."
13. Tell me about someone in your past you'd prefer to avoid. Who, and why?
"My second step-father; Prick. Mostly because I know I'll hardly be able to hold back the urge to put a bullet in his brain."
14. When you finally leave this life (hopefully a long time from now), what do you want to have been known for?
"As long as it wasn't this line of business, I don't really care."
15. You see a large bar of gold sitting in the street, and no one else seems to notice it. You think you have a moment before anyone else sees. What do you do?
"I would check to make sure traffic permitted, then go and pick it up. Who wouldn't? If someone gets to it before me, so be it."
16. Which side of the bed do you roll out of? How come?
"The side on my left; force of habit, nothing else."
17. Of the following choices, choose one at the expense of the rest: WEALTH. POWER. RESPECT. WISDOM. STRENGTH. LOYALTY. FAME.
"At the expense of the rest? None. I take pride in being a fairly well-rounded individual, I'm not going to pick any one of those above the others, though I will tell you which ones I prefer, in descending order. Strength, with wisdom being a close second. Respect and loyalty are also fairly important, and while power is nice to have, that's not really my business. Wealth... I only need enough to live comfortably, and I have no use for fame."
18. Tell me about your recent history.
"I've actually started college. Majoring in psychology and minoring in criminology; imagine the irony. Yeah, it's a weird combination, especially for someone like me, but I've always been interested in what makes people tick. I want to be able to take one look at someone and accurately categorize them, and then pin down their personality within a conversation. Maybe I watch too much TV, but I think there's something to profiling. Plus that shit's just cool, you know?
Aside from that it's pretty much business as usual. My job as a 'security consultant' pays the bills and leaves me with enough money to live quite comfortably. My last job was pretty straightforward, and I got to stretch my marksmanship skills for the first time in a while. Someone wanted me to take out his boss; apparently he was a prick. Killing him was the easy part. I was told that he was suicidal, so I just needed to help him out a bit as he was leaning over the edge of a balcony. He happened to land on his head too, shattering his skull; an unexpected convenience which nicely disguised the fact that there was a hole through it. It was messy, but it was almost like everything fell into place for that kill. No one suspected a thing."
- - - - - - - - - -
Miscellaneous Notes:
-Good piano player, though he'll do everything in his power to avoid being caught.
Name: Kevin Jaeger
Sex: Male
Age: 27
Species: Human (Voodoo zombie)
Appearance:
Though Kevin has been "alive" for a total of 27 years, he appears about 20. He has green eyes and medium length brown hair which he keeps styled to his liking (see picture above). He is about 5'10" and weighs 143 lbs, making him pretty skinny, but not unhealthily so. He works out just enough to maintain a toned physique, but he's far from a bodybuilder.
Powerset: Voodoo Zombie
Rogue power:
Personality: Ever since Kevin's "death," he has had a very neutral, almost sedate attitude. It's not like he's an emotionless Vulcan or anything, but he does come close to it. Very few things will make him become emotionally charged, but it does give him more room to think about things on an objective level, making him much better at critical thinking and negotiating than he ever was before. The only things that could get to him would be seeing a friend or family member get hurt or killed, and because of that he is extremely loyal to those he cares about, along with the bureau. Ironically, because of his largely deadpan attitude and calculating demeanor, people tend to avoid him, making it hard for him to really make any friends, though he doesn't mind it, and it doesn't affect his communication skills with Otherkin much.
History: Kevin was born to a relatively well-off family. His mother was a teacher and his father a programmer, so it's not like he was rich, but they did live very comfortably. His sister Nicole was born when he was two, and they've always gotten along fairly well. He was a bit of an arrogant prick through elementary school and a quiet loner through middle school, but by the time he matured he became a very giving and protective person. He was always there for his friends and was willing to stand up for them, though thankfully he has only had to do that once. He became a revolutionary type, seeing all sorts of injustice in the world and taking every opportunity to speak out against it.
Once he graduated he joined the Peace Corps and was almost immediately put on a plane to Guinea. He figured his time was best spent trying to solve other peoples' problems, and his efforts went above and beyond the Peace Corps' expectations. What they hadn't expected was for him to get abducted by a cult of natives as part of a voodoo ritual. Shortly after the abduction he was displayed to the tribe, covered in ceremonial paint and strapped to an intricate scaffold that held him over a pike. After several chants and charms, he was lowered onto the pike, impaling him through the stomach. He died a slow and very painful death.
He was found by others in the Peace Corps a day later and arrangements were made for him to be sent back to the US. An open-coffin funeral was held six days later, and much to everyone's surprise, he opened his eyes and lifted himself out of the coffin, causing his father to piss his pants and his mother to faint. Kevin was just as confused as everyone else. He couldn't make heads or tails of what was happening. He put together that he was in some sort of accident, but the fact that he woke up during his own funeral was a mystery to him and everyone else, especially those who saw his very fatal wound.
Fortunately, there were a few Otherkin at the funeral, and one of them contacted The Bureau. They got there before anyone else, posing as various types of people to convince everyone it was an elaborate, and sick, joke, while they took Kevin with them. At that point he was told about The Bureau and the Otherkin, along with the fact that, like it or not, he was to stay with The Bureau for some time to both investigate what happened to him and to give him a few pointers about being, well, dead. Rather than being worried or pissed about being dead, he was actively trying to block out what had happened. After having incessantly bugged The Bureau about going home, he was finally released.
He apologized to his family profusely about the prank and he was, of course, implored by his parents to leave the Peace Corps. He did, though not because they told him to. Something changed within him, and he didn't feel as motivated to be in the Peace Corps anymore. He was no longer as outspoken and opinionated as he was before the incident; he was much more neutral and objective. He also made a point of ensuring he wasn't seen without a shirt, and he actively attempted to avoid looking at his wound, though if he had, he would have noticed that it wasn't showing signs of healing. He was mentally suppressing as much about The Bureau and his death that he could manage. Nicole could tell something was up, but Kevin always denied it, until one day when she caught him with his shirt off and saw the injury, looking relatively fresh rather than healed and scarred, like it would have been by that time. It was at that point that reality caught up to Kevin and he accepted the fact that his life was changed forever.
By the promise that she would tell no one else, he told Nicole everything he knew, both about himself and the Bureau. After having seen what should have at best paralyzed Kevin and at worst killed him, she bought it, and knowing this, she knew that what Kevin told her was best kept secret. Shortly thereafter, Kevin returned to the Bureau to get answers about what happened to him. He was then told that the only way that was possible was if he jined the Bureau and aided them in their investigations. He figured being offered a top secret job at a branch of the FBI that shouldn't exist wasn't the worst thing that had happened to him, so he decided to sign on. He has been working for them ever since.
Sex: Male
Age: 27
Species: Human (Voodoo zombie)
Appearance:
Powerset: Voodoo Zombie
- Numb (Tactical | Passive): Ever since he was cursed, Kevin has never been able to feel any pain of any sort, with the exception of head pain (though to a much lesser extent than normal) or pain inflicted by voodoo powers or weapons, which he experiences twice as badly as anyone else would. Unfortunately, just because he can't feel pain doesn't mean his body isn't damaged, and he will experience the physical limitations of injuries as any normal person would, though without moaning or screaming in pain.
- Hard to Kill (Defensive | Passive): Due to the voodoo curse through which Kevin is being kept "alive," he cannot be killed by any normal means, save for decapitation or major head trauma, though he is much less vulnerable to the latter. He does, however, experience the effects of supernatural powers and weapons, though to a lesser extent than others would.
- Harder-Hitting (Offensive | Class 3): Since Kevin cannot feel pain, he doesn't have to worry about punching someone so hard it hurts to him, making his capacity for inflicting brute force in hand to hand combat greater than normal humans. The drawback is that he could break his hand without knowing it.
- Death-Like (Tactical/Defensive | Class 5): Having an inch wide hole going through your stomach makes you look pretty dead if you don't move. Even more so when your heart rate is zero and you don't have to breathe. Because of this, Kevin can feign death at the drop of a hat, and very convincingly at that.
Rogue power:
- Voodoo Manipulation: Kevin doesn't know it yet, but he has the ability to manipulate voodoo magic. It's something that would likely only show itself if a practitioner of voodoo were to detect it, or if he were forced into a situation where he would subconsciously summon his power.
Personality: Ever since Kevin's "death," he has had a very neutral, almost sedate attitude. It's not like he's an emotionless Vulcan or anything, but he does come close to it. Very few things will make him become emotionally charged, but it does give him more room to think about things on an objective level, making him much better at critical thinking and negotiating than he ever was before. The only things that could get to him would be seeing a friend or family member get hurt or killed, and because of that he is extremely loyal to those he cares about, along with the bureau. Ironically, because of his largely deadpan attitude and calculating demeanor, people tend to avoid him, making it hard for him to really make any friends, though he doesn't mind it, and it doesn't affect his communication skills with Otherkin much.
History: Kevin was born to a relatively well-off family. His mother was a teacher and his father a programmer, so it's not like he was rich, but they did live very comfortably. His sister Nicole was born when he was two, and they've always gotten along fairly well. He was a bit of an arrogant prick through elementary school and a quiet loner through middle school, but by the time he matured he became a very giving and protective person. He was always there for his friends and was willing to stand up for them, though thankfully he has only had to do that once. He became a revolutionary type, seeing all sorts of injustice in the world and taking every opportunity to speak out against it.
Once he graduated he joined the Peace Corps and was almost immediately put on a plane to Guinea. He figured his time was best spent trying to solve other peoples' problems, and his efforts went above and beyond the Peace Corps' expectations. What they hadn't expected was for him to get abducted by a cult of natives as part of a voodoo ritual. Shortly after the abduction he was displayed to the tribe, covered in ceremonial paint and strapped to an intricate scaffold that held him over a pike. After several chants and charms, he was lowered onto the pike, impaling him through the stomach. He died a slow and very painful death.
He was found by others in the Peace Corps a day later and arrangements were made for him to be sent back to the US. An open-coffin funeral was held six days later, and much to everyone's surprise, he opened his eyes and lifted himself out of the coffin, causing his father to piss his pants and his mother to faint. Kevin was just as confused as everyone else. He couldn't make heads or tails of what was happening. He put together that he was in some sort of accident, but the fact that he woke up during his own funeral was a mystery to him and everyone else, especially those who saw his very fatal wound.
Fortunately, there were a few Otherkin at the funeral, and one of them contacted The Bureau. They got there before anyone else, posing as various types of people to convince everyone it was an elaborate, and sick, joke, while they took Kevin with them. At that point he was told about The Bureau and the Otherkin, along with the fact that, like it or not, he was to stay with The Bureau for some time to both investigate what happened to him and to give him a few pointers about being, well, dead. Rather than being worried or pissed about being dead, he was actively trying to block out what had happened. After having incessantly bugged The Bureau about going home, he was finally released.
He apologized to his family profusely about the prank and he was, of course, implored by his parents to leave the Peace Corps. He did, though not because they told him to. Something changed within him, and he didn't feel as motivated to be in the Peace Corps anymore. He was no longer as outspoken and opinionated as he was before the incident; he was much more neutral and objective. He also made a point of ensuring he wasn't seen without a shirt, and he actively attempted to avoid looking at his wound, though if he had, he would have noticed that it wasn't showing signs of healing. He was mentally suppressing as much about The Bureau and his death that he could manage. Nicole could tell something was up, but Kevin always denied it, until one day when she caught him with his shirt off and saw the injury, looking relatively fresh rather than healed and scarred, like it would have been by that time. It was at that point that reality caught up to Kevin and he accepted the fact that his life was changed forever.
By the promise that she would tell no one else, he told Nicole everything he knew, both about himself and the Bureau. After having seen what should have at best paralyzed Kevin and at worst killed him, she bought it, and knowing this, she knew that what Kevin told her was best kept secret. Shortly thereafter, Kevin returned to the Bureau to get answers about what happened to him. He was then told that the only way that was possible was if he jined the Bureau and aided them in their investigations. He figured being offered a top secret job at a branch of the FBI that shouldn't exist wasn't the worst thing that had happened to him, so he decided to sign on. He has been working for them ever since.
Name: Dieter Wolf
Callsign: Wolf
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Role: Marksman and Close Combat
Weight: 66 kg/146 lbs
Height: 176 cm/5'9"
Description of Appearence: In short, Dieter looks like an average, albeit somewhat gruff looking man, giving him a slightly intimidating look despite his unimposing stature. He has very well-toned muscles which, while not exactly large in and of themselves, display a fair amount of strength on his form. He has short brown hair and hazel eyes, and while he's not quite lazy enough to let his facial hair grow into a full beard, he does often allow it to grow a little past just being a five o clock shadow.
Former Military Enlistment: German Grenzschutzgruppe 9 (GSG9)
Brief History and Background: Dieter was born and raised in Munich as an only child, and for the most part he had a normal childhood. He had always wanted to be a part of law enforcement, particularly a detective, or some form of investigator. He pursued a criminal justice degree when he entered college and attained a master's degree in his field, which earned him a spot in any state police forces in Germany. He decided to go to Berlin at that point, and over the course of two months he was trained and observed. His scores in many fields were found to be exemplary, and he found himself being offered positions in the Federal Police, BKA, and GSG9.
He was fairly well torn on which path to choose. While the BKA would have suited his passion for investigating a bit more, he felt more drawn to GSG9. After some time of mental debate, he decided to join the latter. His training from then on became extremely vigorous and grueling, but he came out in the top 10% of his unit. Over the next three years, he proved himself time and time again to be a valuable asset to GSG9, earning him a recommendation to the position of squad leader. He hadn't even held this position for a week when the Sickle spread to Moscow.
Almost immediately, the German government called for strict border controls to ensure this new disease didn't get within the country. Most Federal and state police forces were allocated to the border to enforce the newly set up checkpoints while the entirety of GSG9 was held on standby lest the infection spread to Germany. The German government was pretty early to put up their defenses against the infection, thus they fared somewhat better during the initial outbreak, but eventually the infection breached their border.
Following reports of spontaneous deaths in Dresden, Dieter's unit was ordered to aid the BKA in investigating the reports. There, they saw firsthand what the disease was like. Alongside the BKA and RKI, they worked to contain as much of the disease as they could. During this time, Dieter, along with much of his unit, called and implored their families to move to Berlin, claiming it would be safer there if things got out of hand.
Surprisingly, they actually succeeded in containing Dresden, and the infection in that area was stopped after about 100 deaths, but of course, several other border cities soon got infected.
After so long, it became too difficult to contain. Germany was using all of it's resources 24/7 in an effort to stop it from spreading, but of course, it was simply overwhelming. After a week and a half of unsuccessfully trying to fend off the infection, the federal government called all of it's forces to Berlin, one of the few urban centers in Germany that was still untouched by the virus. A massive quarantine was set up to keep the infection from getting in, and while it wasn't perfect, it lasted long enough for the ArtAtmos system to be deployed in Berlin.
Ever since ArtAtmos went up, most of Dieter's time was spent monitoring and keeping civil dissent to a minimum, though there were times when their unit was deployed to cities in Germany that had fallen and report back what they found. This, of course, wore on Dieter quite a bit, and he began to wonder if humanity would ever recover from such a cataclysmic event. That was when the CDC found him.
Other Items of Importance:
-Extremely proficient in the use of firearms
-Possesses fairly good investigatory skills
-Prefers an accurate, swift, or tactful approach to most situations as opposed to simple brute strength
Callsign: Wolf
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Role: Marksman and Close Combat
Weight: 66 kg/146 lbs
Height: 176 cm/5'9"
Description of Appearence: In short, Dieter looks like an average, albeit somewhat gruff looking man, giving him a slightly intimidating look despite his unimposing stature. He has very well-toned muscles which, while not exactly large in and of themselves, display a fair amount of strength on his form. He has short brown hair and hazel eyes, and while he's not quite lazy enough to let his facial hair grow into a full beard, he does often allow it to grow a little past just being a five o clock shadow.
Former Military Enlistment: German Grenzschutzgruppe 9 (GSG9)
Brief History and Background: Dieter was born and raised in Munich as an only child, and for the most part he had a normal childhood. He had always wanted to be a part of law enforcement, particularly a detective, or some form of investigator. He pursued a criminal justice degree when he entered college and attained a master's degree in his field, which earned him a spot in any state police forces in Germany. He decided to go to Berlin at that point, and over the course of two months he was trained and observed. His scores in many fields were found to be exemplary, and he found himself being offered positions in the Federal Police, BKA, and GSG9.
He was fairly well torn on which path to choose. While the BKA would have suited his passion for investigating a bit more, he felt more drawn to GSG9. After some time of mental debate, he decided to join the latter. His training from then on became extremely vigorous and grueling, but he came out in the top 10% of his unit. Over the next three years, he proved himself time and time again to be a valuable asset to GSG9, earning him a recommendation to the position of squad leader. He hadn't even held this position for a week when the Sickle spread to Moscow.
Almost immediately, the German government called for strict border controls to ensure this new disease didn't get within the country. Most Federal and state police forces were allocated to the border to enforce the newly set up checkpoints while the entirety of GSG9 was held on standby lest the infection spread to Germany. The German government was pretty early to put up their defenses against the infection, thus they fared somewhat better during the initial outbreak, but eventually the infection breached their border.
Following reports of spontaneous deaths in Dresden, Dieter's unit was ordered to aid the BKA in investigating the reports. There, they saw firsthand what the disease was like. Alongside the BKA and RKI, they worked to contain as much of the disease as they could. During this time, Dieter, along with much of his unit, called and implored their families to move to Berlin, claiming it would be safer there if things got out of hand.
Surprisingly, they actually succeeded in containing Dresden, and the infection in that area was stopped after about 100 deaths, but of course, several other border cities soon got infected.
After so long, it became too difficult to contain. Germany was using all of it's resources 24/7 in an effort to stop it from spreading, but of course, it was simply overwhelming. After a week and a half of unsuccessfully trying to fend off the infection, the federal government called all of it's forces to Berlin, one of the few urban centers in Germany that was still untouched by the virus. A massive quarantine was set up to keep the infection from getting in, and while it wasn't perfect, it lasted long enough for the ArtAtmos system to be deployed in Berlin.
Ever since ArtAtmos went up, most of Dieter's time was spent monitoring and keeping civil dissent to a minimum, though there were times when their unit was deployed to cities in Germany that had fallen and report back what they found. This, of course, wore on Dieter quite a bit, and he began to wonder if humanity would ever recover from such a cataclysmic event. That was when the CDC found him.
Other Items of Importance:
-Extremely proficient in the use of firearms
-Possesses fairly good investigatory skills
-Prefers an accurate, swift, or tactful approach to most situations as opposed to simple brute strength
Name: Jacob Rourke
Age: 27
Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 151 lbs
Equipment:
Gunsmithing tools
Gun cleaning kit
AK diagrams
Multitool
3 cans of beans
2 cans of chili
2 canteens filled with water
MP3
Deck of cards
Weapons:
AK-74 | PSO-1 scope | 2 magazines | 75 5.45x39mm rounds total
CZ-75 B SA | 3 magazines | 50 9x19mm rounds total
Tactical knife
Previous Occupation: Gunsmithing apprentice.
Appearance: Jacob is a pretty average looking guy, although a bit on the lanky side. He is not, however, unfit. He actually has very well-shaped muscles, they're just skinny. He also has green eyes and short brown hair. He does occasionally get a 5 o clock shadow, but he tries to keep his facial hair cut down.
Bio: Jacob was in the middle of disassembling a Browning Hi-Power when he heard the window of his boss's gun store shatter. He took a step out of the workshop to check on the front desk, but what he wasn't prepared to see was a mass of people desperately clamoring for any gun they could get their hands on. He would have drawn his own CZ-75 if it were just one person, but this was a crowd of people, and he was hopelessly outnumbered. When shots started to be fired, Jacob made a run for the rear exit, caring more for his safety than the fact that his boss would kill him when he found out the entire inventory was cleared out and he was the only one there. It wasn't until he got outside that he saw the walking corpses and realized what was happening. Knowing his boss was now the least of his worries, he fought his way back home to grab what he could, then began to work his way out of Dallas.
It took him two days of creeping around to make it out of the city and into relative safety. He knew he was several steps ahead of anyone else who made it, being armed and having a few days' worth of food and water, along with general supplies. He didn't really have a ton of friends, and most of his family lived in Chicago, so there wasn't much to keep him from leaving Dallas completely behind. So, with plenty of supplies and a penchant for helping people, Jacob began to actively seek out other survivors and help them along for a few days at a time. He wasn't comfortable with the idea of hanging around with complete strangers for extended periods of time, though it was less out of distrust than it was out of fear that he begin to care for them enough that he would be afraid to lose them.
He spent the next several months alone, looking for food, supplies, and people in need by day, and by night making modifications to his rifle, as well as taking some endeavors into crafting his own AK out of scrap and spare parts. After about 5 months, he found a small group holed up in a farm about fifty miles from Tulsa, OK. Months beforehand, he would have ignored it and kept walking, but with winter approaching he decided to look into staying, though just for the winter. He was met with suspicion, but he figured that was to be expected. A lone guy, armed to the teeth and with a fair amount of supplies seemed a bit too convenient, but after some convincing, he managed to get in. He made it perfectly clear that he intended to leave once winter was over, but he would contribute in any way he could until then. As it turned out, his gunsmithing skills earned him the respect of pretty much everyone in the camp, and he got to know everyone else pretty well.
By spring, Jacob was somewhat torn between sticking to his original plan and staying with the group for a bit longer. They all came off as being decent people, and he had come to care for them. He tried to avoid it, but it was one of those things that crept up almost imperceptibly. One day he was cleaning the guns, talking to TJ when Ashley told them to find a place to hide and stay quiet. As it turned out, a herd was passing through at the time, and although everyone in the barn was safely ignored by the walkers, they all knew Nick was out there gathering food. They learned several days later that he was attacked by the herd when they found his mutilated body in some nearby woods.
Jacob disappeared from the group later that day without a word. He had broken one of his cardinal rules; never get too close to people. He had managed to avoid seeing for himself the corpse of someone he cared about, and it struck him harder than the emotional trauma he experienced from the initial outbreak. He had been substantially lucky until then, and he began to grow self-destructive. He started making riskier supply runs, using less caution and more brute force, even going so far as to run into Tulsa without a second thought. He rationalized it as wanting to find a stash of supplies, but subconsciously he knew he was trying to get himself killed, and nearly succeeded.
He became barricaded within a building one day, stuck between making a mad dash through the crowd of walkers surrounding the building and just waiting it out. After a week of the latter, he was found and rescued by the group, but not without them losing Bradley. Jacob saw Bradley's death as being his fault, which of course didn't make his mental state any better. Now, instead of just being self-destructive, he was also quasi-suicidal and guilty. Of course, everyone else was having none of this, and they kept a close eye on him, trying to simultaneously keep his spirits up and keep him from doing something crazy. It took until late fall, but he managed to come around.
Even with the bonds he had made over the months, Jacob felt as though it was time for him to move on. He waited once more for the winter months to pass before deciding to take his leave. He thanked everyone immensely and headed north. It took him some time to reach Kansas, but it was shortly after arriving that he found another band of survivors to make contact with. He thought it through and decided that it was better to have friends in a world like this than not and decided to make contact. He has been with them for two months.
Age: 27
Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 151 lbs
Equipment:
Gunsmithing tools
Gun cleaning kit
AK diagrams
Multitool
3 cans of beans
2 cans of chili
2 canteens filled with water
MP3
Deck of cards
Weapons:
AK-74 | PSO-1 scope | 2 magazines | 75 5.45x39mm rounds total
CZ-75 B SA | 3 magazines | 50 9x19mm rounds total
Tactical knife
Previous Occupation: Gunsmithing apprentice.
Appearance: Jacob is a pretty average looking guy, although a bit on the lanky side. He is not, however, unfit. He actually has very well-shaped muscles, they're just skinny. He also has green eyes and short brown hair. He does occasionally get a 5 o clock shadow, but he tries to keep his facial hair cut down.
Bio: Jacob was in the middle of disassembling a Browning Hi-Power when he heard the window of his boss's gun store shatter. He took a step out of the workshop to check on the front desk, but what he wasn't prepared to see was a mass of people desperately clamoring for any gun they could get their hands on. He would have drawn his own CZ-75 if it were just one person, but this was a crowd of people, and he was hopelessly outnumbered. When shots started to be fired, Jacob made a run for the rear exit, caring more for his safety than the fact that his boss would kill him when he found out the entire inventory was cleared out and he was the only one there. It wasn't until he got outside that he saw the walking corpses and realized what was happening. Knowing his boss was now the least of his worries, he fought his way back home to grab what he could, then began to work his way out of Dallas.
It took him two days of creeping around to make it out of the city and into relative safety. He knew he was several steps ahead of anyone else who made it, being armed and having a few days' worth of food and water, along with general supplies. He didn't really have a ton of friends, and most of his family lived in Chicago, so there wasn't much to keep him from leaving Dallas completely behind. So, with plenty of supplies and a penchant for helping people, Jacob began to actively seek out other survivors and help them along for a few days at a time. He wasn't comfortable with the idea of hanging around with complete strangers for extended periods of time, though it was less out of distrust than it was out of fear that he begin to care for them enough that he would be afraid to lose them.
He spent the next several months alone, looking for food, supplies, and people in need by day, and by night making modifications to his rifle, as well as taking some endeavors into crafting his own AK out of scrap and spare parts. After about 5 months, he found a small group holed up in a farm about fifty miles from Tulsa, OK. Months beforehand, he would have ignored it and kept walking, but with winter approaching he decided to look into staying, though just for the winter. He was met with suspicion, but he figured that was to be expected. A lone guy, armed to the teeth and with a fair amount of supplies seemed a bit too convenient, but after some convincing, he managed to get in. He made it perfectly clear that he intended to leave once winter was over, but he would contribute in any way he could until then. As it turned out, his gunsmithing skills earned him the respect of pretty much everyone in the camp, and he got to know everyone else pretty well.
By spring, Jacob was somewhat torn between sticking to his original plan and staying with the group for a bit longer. They all came off as being decent people, and he had come to care for them. He tried to avoid it, but it was one of those things that crept up almost imperceptibly. One day he was cleaning the guns, talking to TJ when Ashley told them to find a place to hide and stay quiet. As it turned out, a herd was passing through at the time, and although everyone in the barn was safely ignored by the walkers, they all knew Nick was out there gathering food. They learned several days later that he was attacked by the herd when they found his mutilated body in some nearby woods.
Jacob disappeared from the group later that day without a word. He had broken one of his cardinal rules; never get too close to people. He had managed to avoid seeing for himself the corpse of someone he cared about, and it struck him harder than the emotional trauma he experienced from the initial outbreak. He had been substantially lucky until then, and he began to grow self-destructive. He started making riskier supply runs, using less caution and more brute force, even going so far as to run into Tulsa without a second thought. He rationalized it as wanting to find a stash of supplies, but subconsciously he knew he was trying to get himself killed, and nearly succeeded.
He became barricaded within a building one day, stuck between making a mad dash through the crowd of walkers surrounding the building and just waiting it out. After a week of the latter, he was found and rescued by the group, but not without them losing Bradley. Jacob saw Bradley's death as being his fault, which of course didn't make his mental state any better. Now, instead of just being self-destructive, he was also quasi-suicidal and guilty. Of course, everyone else was having none of this, and they kept a close eye on him, trying to simultaneously keep his spirits up and keep him from doing something crazy. It took until late fall, but he managed to come around.
Even with the bonds he had made over the months, Jacob felt as though it was time for him to move on. He waited once more for the winter months to pass before deciding to take his leave. He thanked everyone immensely and headed north. It took him some time to reach Kansas, but it was shortly after arriving that he found another band of survivors to make contact with. He thought it through and decided that it was better to have friends in a world like this than not and decided to make contact. He has been with them for two months.
Username: Exile
Appearance: Exile stands at 5'10" and has a lanky, but not unfit, build. He has medium-length dark brown hair and green eyes, and generally wears light chest armor. His clothes are primarily dark grey with red details.
Current Weapon: Balanced Short Sword.
Favorite Attributes: Spirit and dexterity.
Weapon styles unlocked: One-handed sword fighting.
Real Age: 17
Real Name: Jacob Taylor
Gender: Male
Personality: Jacob tends to be a somewhat loud and verbose person, and it can rub people the wrong way. He tends to come off as being mean, but he really is just way too blunt and direct about things. In truth, he's a good person, and anyone who knows him knows that he's a much better friend than he may seem. He's the sort of person who tries to defend his friends and loved ones, and sometimes just a stranger in desperate need of help.
Other: Jacob heard about the game from a friend who was a beta tester, so he knows a couple of tricks, but he has never had hands-on experience until the full release of SAO. He has also taken Jiu-Jitsu outside of gaming, so he knows his way around actual hand to hand combat, but given that the game is all about swords, who knows how much good that will do.
Appearance: Exile stands at 5'10" and has a lanky, but not unfit, build. He has medium-length dark brown hair and green eyes, and generally wears light chest armor. His clothes are primarily dark grey with red details.
Current Weapon: Balanced Short Sword.
Favorite Attributes: Spirit and dexterity.
Weapon styles unlocked: One-handed sword fighting.
Real Age: 17
Real Name: Jacob Taylor
Gender: Male
Personality: Jacob tends to be a somewhat loud and verbose person, and it can rub people the wrong way. He tends to come off as being mean, but he really is just way too blunt and direct about things. In truth, he's a good person, and anyone who knows him knows that he's a much better friend than he may seem. He's the sort of person who tries to defend his friends and loved ones, and sometimes just a stranger in desperate need of help.
Other: Jacob heard about the game from a friend who was a beta tester, so he knows a couple of tricks, but he has never had hands-on experience until the full release of SAO. He has also taken Jiu-Jitsu outside of gaming, so he knows his way around actual hand to hand combat, but given that the game is all about swords, who knows how much good that will do.
Name: John 'Exile' Rourke.
Weapon: Hand-crafted AK-105 which he built himself and keeps hidden from those who work for The System, though he would never use it unless he were to leave Barrowside for any reason. He also has a hand-crafted survival knife made from paracord and metal from one of his scrapped AK builds, along with a much smaller, but similarly made, shiv which he keeps on him at all times. He stays in shape, but he only has limited hand-to-hand combat knowledge, thus he prefers to fight with a weapon, or not at all.
Estimated Age: Between 27 and 29.
Personality: John has always been a cautious optimist with a heart of gold, though his mannerisms can come off as strange or eccentric to others. His general mood tends to be anywhere between relaxed and content, though he can also be unpredictable in certain situations. He has been known to talk to himself on occasion, which causes others to put his sanity into question. Some suspect it has something to do with his life before coming to Barrowside. Even if he is insane, it's only mild, and he has never hurt anybody while in one of his more odd states of mind, so people tend to roll with it. In most cases, he tends to muse aloud about the human condition, good vs. bad, morality, government, things like that. Some people refer to him as something of a philosopher because of it. One way or the other, he is a friendly person who is easy to talk to, most of the time, and you can usually look to him to cheer things up.
Brief Background: As far as anyone knows, John was born in a community similar to Barrowside and raised to be an intelligent man with several marketable skills. That's the gist of his story, though if he wanted to go deeper, he would tell you about how Rockwell was run by people who didn't want anyone to get too smart, to help keep any sort of organized revolution from starting. He says that Barrowside is ruled under more reasonable conditions, but it's still imperfect. He says that Rockwell kept people in check by setting up a church and coaxing people to look to a higher power for answers, with government-appointed pastors. "It was an... effective form of control... and the greatest reason that I consider myself to be an atheist."
His parents were revolutionaries, in a way, who saw the oppressive nature of their government and wanted to replace it with a more democratic system. They always thought that knowledge was the answer, and this rubbed off on John to a great extent. He became an avid bookworm, and studied every piece of nonfictional writing he could get his hands on. Through his studies and self-teaching, he gained a broad array of basic and intermediate knowledge on several subjects, not the least of which was English. He began writing at an early age, and he often drew a crowd of people who listened to his stories. He always wrote about someplace where nothing could hurt you, where there was plenty of food and water, no disease, no zombies; a place where everything was peaceful and you didn't have to worry or care about anything.
During his late teenage years, a point at which his parents considered him to be an adult, they organized a protest against the government of Rockwell. He doesn't say anything other than the protesters were shut down, brutally. Over a hundred arrests, his mother among them, several executions, including that of his father, and even stricter rules for the entire community. It was at that point that John grabbed what he could and left Rockwell, assuming the name "Exile" and searching for a better place to stay. He eventually stumbled upon Barrowside after travelling for roughly a year, barely surviving on ancient food stores he found along the way.
In truth, there was no rebellion. Rockwell was destroyed by an overwhelming force of raiders who killed everyone who resisted, along with some who didn't. John was lucky to be captured and taken into their ranks. He appeared to them younger than he was, so they took him in and tried to push their customs on him. He went along with it, but did not forget what his parents taught him. His knowledge allowed him to plan an escape, and he even managed to get away with a gun; a rusty old AK. He could tell it was in dire need of repair, so he took to learning how it worked, and thus his interest and talent in gunsmithing came to fruition.
Between evading the raiders' search parties and looking for food, he barely had time to work on the old rifle, and no time for reading any books he came across or writing anything else. Between the dehydration and practical starvation, he began to lose his sanity. He kept himself going though, and at one point stumbled upon a "prepper" shelter built from a shipping container. He managed to find plenty of food and water inside, and was able to take a true pause to think about what to do next. He knew the raiders would keep looking for him, and they weren't far behind, so he had to either kill them or somehow mislead them. He could only think of one surefire way of doing so, and it was going to hurt.
After taking some antibiotics and painkillers he found in the shelter, John cut his hand on a broken window at a nearby house and let it bleed as he walked in a random direction. He kept it up for about twenty minutes before he cleaned and bandaged the wound, leaving a blood trail roughly a mile long. After making sure he did a proper job of cleaning the wound, he ran off in a different direction, hoping that the pint of blood he spilled was worth it. After a few days and no more sign that the raiders were following him, he continued forth, unmolested by any further pursuit. He traveled alone for about a month before running into a caravan who happened to have some parts for the rifle. He managed to get it into working condition on the condition that he give it to the caravan. He got a pretty sturdy knife in exchange, along with information on where some other gun parts might be found. He thanked the caravan for his hospitality and left him a short story he had re-written from before the fall of Rockwell.
The information lead him to an old gun store with files of blueprints and build instructions, including one for an AK-105. He managed to scrounge together all of the parts necessary to build the carbine, and was able to do so with the help of some manually operated machines and tools, though he figured he should learn to build one without such help. He kept another complete set of parts and continued on, thinking he wouldn't start until he needed to. After a couple more weeks of travel, he found Barrowside, where his AK and knife were confiscated. He considered breaking out, valuing freedom over community, but he learned after about a month of being confined to a cell that he had lost more of his sanity than he thought.
He came around as soon as he realized this and managed to get out of the cell, though he then had to bargain for a good skill, thus where his English knowledge came in handy. He just barely managed to become an English teacher and was even allowed all of his belongings back, except for his completed weapons. He has since used the parts he had to build another AK and keep it hidden from The System, along with a pair of knives. He has since established himself as a respectable man with a kind heart and great writing skills.
Misc: In short, John is a jack of all trades, with his specialties lying in gunsmithing and his vast knowledge of the English language, though he keeps the former secret and fronts as an English teacher. John is a very intelligent and articulate person, using plenty of vocabulary which in a post-apocalyptic society would seem superfluous, unnecessary, or even archaic. He often takes his off-time to write short stories, or work on his novel, "The Oasis."
Although he's not very good at using guns, he knows several guns down to every pin, rivet, and screw, and makes a habit of trying to construct some; outside of the prying eyes of The System of course. He has a particular interest in AK-type rifles, fascinated by their relatively simple construction and high tolerances. With the lack of any precision tools, a lot of his builds end up being fancy paperweights. Some of the guns he turns out are functional, but far from perfect. He has only managed to craft exactly two shooters worthy of any true merit, and that was with a vast array of spare parts he found before coming to Barrowside.
Level and category: Level 5A.
Weapon: Hand-crafted AK-105 which he built himself and keeps hidden from those who work for The System, though he would never use it unless he were to leave Barrowside for any reason. He also has a hand-crafted survival knife made from paracord and metal from one of his scrapped AK builds, along with a much smaller, but similarly made, shiv which he keeps on him at all times. He stays in shape, but he only has limited hand-to-hand combat knowledge, thus he prefers to fight with a weapon, or not at all.
Estimated Age: Between 27 and 29.
Personality: John has always been a cautious optimist with a heart of gold, though his mannerisms can come off as strange or eccentric to others. His general mood tends to be anywhere between relaxed and content, though he can also be unpredictable in certain situations. He has been known to talk to himself on occasion, which causes others to put his sanity into question. Some suspect it has something to do with his life before coming to Barrowside. Even if he is insane, it's only mild, and he has never hurt anybody while in one of his more odd states of mind, so people tend to roll with it. In most cases, he tends to muse aloud about the human condition, good vs. bad, morality, government, things like that. Some people refer to him as something of a philosopher because of it. One way or the other, he is a friendly person who is easy to talk to, most of the time, and you can usually look to him to cheer things up.
Brief Background: As far as anyone knows, John was born in a community similar to Barrowside and raised to be an intelligent man with several marketable skills. That's the gist of his story, though if he wanted to go deeper, he would tell you about how Rockwell was run by people who didn't want anyone to get too smart, to help keep any sort of organized revolution from starting. He says that Barrowside is ruled under more reasonable conditions, but it's still imperfect. He says that Rockwell kept people in check by setting up a church and coaxing people to look to a higher power for answers, with government-appointed pastors. "It was an... effective form of control... and the greatest reason that I consider myself to be an atheist."
His parents were revolutionaries, in a way, who saw the oppressive nature of their government and wanted to replace it with a more democratic system. They always thought that knowledge was the answer, and this rubbed off on John to a great extent. He became an avid bookworm, and studied every piece of nonfictional writing he could get his hands on. Through his studies and self-teaching, he gained a broad array of basic and intermediate knowledge on several subjects, not the least of which was English. He began writing at an early age, and he often drew a crowd of people who listened to his stories. He always wrote about someplace where nothing could hurt you, where there was plenty of food and water, no disease, no zombies; a place where everything was peaceful and you didn't have to worry or care about anything.
During his late teenage years, a point at which his parents considered him to be an adult, they organized a protest against the government of Rockwell. He doesn't say anything other than the protesters were shut down, brutally. Over a hundred arrests, his mother among them, several executions, including that of his father, and even stricter rules for the entire community. It was at that point that John grabbed what he could and left Rockwell, assuming the name "Exile" and searching for a better place to stay. He eventually stumbled upon Barrowside after travelling for roughly a year, barely surviving on ancient food stores he found along the way.
In truth, there was no rebellion. Rockwell was destroyed by an overwhelming force of raiders who killed everyone who resisted, along with some who didn't. John was lucky to be captured and taken into their ranks. He appeared to them younger than he was, so they took him in and tried to push their customs on him. He went along with it, but did not forget what his parents taught him. His knowledge allowed him to plan an escape, and he even managed to get away with a gun; a rusty old AK. He could tell it was in dire need of repair, so he took to learning how it worked, and thus his interest and talent in gunsmithing came to fruition.
Between evading the raiders' search parties and looking for food, he barely had time to work on the old rifle, and no time for reading any books he came across or writing anything else. Between the dehydration and practical starvation, he began to lose his sanity. He kept himself going though, and at one point stumbled upon a "prepper" shelter built from a shipping container. He managed to find plenty of food and water inside, and was able to take a true pause to think about what to do next. He knew the raiders would keep looking for him, and they weren't far behind, so he had to either kill them or somehow mislead them. He could only think of one surefire way of doing so, and it was going to hurt.
After taking some antibiotics and painkillers he found in the shelter, John cut his hand on a broken window at a nearby house and let it bleed as he walked in a random direction. He kept it up for about twenty minutes before he cleaned and bandaged the wound, leaving a blood trail roughly a mile long. After making sure he did a proper job of cleaning the wound, he ran off in a different direction, hoping that the pint of blood he spilled was worth it. After a few days and no more sign that the raiders were following him, he continued forth, unmolested by any further pursuit. He traveled alone for about a month before running into a caravan who happened to have some parts for the rifle. He managed to get it into working condition on the condition that he give it to the caravan. He got a pretty sturdy knife in exchange, along with information on where some other gun parts might be found. He thanked the caravan for his hospitality and left him a short story he had re-written from before the fall of Rockwell.
The information lead him to an old gun store with files of blueprints and build instructions, including one for an AK-105. He managed to scrounge together all of the parts necessary to build the carbine, and was able to do so with the help of some manually operated machines and tools, though he figured he should learn to build one without such help. He kept another complete set of parts and continued on, thinking he wouldn't start until he needed to. After a couple more weeks of travel, he found Barrowside, where his AK and knife were confiscated. He considered breaking out, valuing freedom over community, but he learned after about a month of being confined to a cell that he had lost more of his sanity than he thought.
He came around as soon as he realized this and managed to get out of the cell, though he then had to bargain for a good skill, thus where his English knowledge came in handy. He just barely managed to become an English teacher and was even allowed all of his belongings back, except for his completed weapons. He has since used the parts he had to build another AK and keep it hidden from The System, along with a pair of knives. He has since established himself as a respectable man with a kind heart and great writing skills.
Misc: In short, John is a jack of all trades, with his specialties lying in gunsmithing and his vast knowledge of the English language, though he keeps the former secret and fronts as an English teacher. John is a very intelligent and articulate person, using plenty of vocabulary which in a post-apocalyptic society would seem superfluous, unnecessary, or even archaic. He often takes his off-time to write short stories, or work on his novel, "The Oasis."
Although he's not very good at using guns, he knows several guns down to every pin, rivet, and screw, and makes a habit of trying to construct some; outside of the prying eyes of The System of course. He has a particular interest in AK-type rifles, fascinated by their relatively simple construction and high tolerances. With the lack of any precision tools, a lot of his builds end up being fancy paperweights. Some of the guns he turns out are functional, but far from perfect. He has only managed to craft exactly two shooters worthy of any true merit, and that was with a vast array of spare parts he found before coming to Barrowside.
Level and category: Level 5A.
