[CHAR] Another Settlement Needs Your Help!

[LordofthePies]

Name: Ren Geovani
Nickname: N/A
Age:28
Race: Synth
Morals: Doesn't believe in innocence, everyone is evil in some way, there is no such thing as a pure mortal in her mind. She also doesn't support the idea of having slaves. She won't take prisoners, it's either kill them all or leave them be.
Faction: None
Flaws: Doesn't pitty people, and doesn't spare the lives of anyone.
Background (How did they grow up, how was family life, siblings? Relationships? Pets?): Ren had a dog once. But one day it slobbered on her, causing her to malfunction and kill the animal. She no longer likes dogs. Other than that, Ren has had a pretty simple, Synthetic life. Although, she doesn't really like the people that made her this way.
Looks (Either a picture or a very, very detailed description.):

Other (Optional): Is a 2.5 Gen, a mix between Valentine and 3rd Gen.

[Raiven Raine]

Name: Shaine

Nickname: Squire...a title is a nickname, yeah?

Age: 14

Race: human

Morals: Optimistically follows Brotherhood beliefs, but with a hell of a lot less racism. He often skirts around certain rules, goes places he shouldn't and ends up getting reprimanded repeatedly. He wants badly to be the best Paladin ever. "Even better than Danse." Maybe even become Elder one day. He is friendly and enigmatic and has a strong sense of loyalty to his brothers and sisters of the BoS

Flaws: well...he's a kid....so there's that. Shaine has very little actual experience on the ground, but he has been sneaking practice in with a sniper rifle, and he's really good....from far away. He often gets in over his head because of his enthusiasm for combat and to prove himself. He feels competitive with Elder Maxson's past reputation. "If he could kill a deathclaw when he was 14, then I can [do this]" He won't let rules stop him.

Faction: Brotherhood of Steel

Background: Shaine was raised by the Brotherhood, mostly. He was born in the Capital Wasteland and moved to the BoS compound for training with some other squires his age. (i don't want to look at the damn timeline right now so...he was young.) He is somewhat of a loner because he gets in trouble often and some of the other squires don't always want to associate with him lest he get them in trouble, too. He has a close relationship with Proctor Ingram, Scribe Haylen and Paladin Danse and he really looks up to Lancer Captain Kells...though the man scares the crap out of him. He looks to Elder Maxson like a father figure.

Looks: short dark brown hair. Usually keeps it shaved but sometimes it grows out. right now...it's a little scruffy. 5'1" 120 LB. Blue eyes.

[Raiven Raine]

Name: X9-01

Nickname: Oracle

Age: Prototype

Race: Synth

Morals: Pragmatic

Flaws: Blind, Limp

Faction: None

Background: Produced By Institute to Aid in Retrieval missions by predicting the movements of runaways through tactical analysis, profiling, and deductive reasoning. Unit X9-01 itself ran away during its first recovery mission, having attained self awareness faster than any previous gen3. Its specialized nature makes it a high priority recovery target for the Institute, and Kill On Sight for the brotherhood. Its ocular sensors and right leg actuators were damaged irreparably in the escape.

Looks: Modeled after "Father" on the man's deathbed as a tribute to the Institute leader's contribution.

(Tahlon's character)

[Athoriel]

Name: Thomas
Nickname: Tommy
Age: 22
Race: Human

Morals: He's been a scavver for most of his life, venturing out into the Commonwealth in hopes of finding a big enough score to keep him well fed for a year or so. He's good at heart, and hates to see folk in trouble, but struggles with the idea of being a hero. If you can't look out for yourself, you can't look out for others, and he's barely getting by as it is.

Flaws: He's an alcoholic, there's little he'd choose over a bottle of whiskey.

Faction: N/A

Background: Tommy grew up in Diamond city as an orphan, a few folks would take pity on him from time to time and give him food and shelter, but never for long. When he was 13 he would take up scavenging from the surrounding city, using his small size to navigate around dangers and get at some good loot, however as he grew older, larger and more dependent on the drink he was forced into more and more combat situations as he lost his edge in stealth. Despite this, if one can get him sober enough they'll find him an ample scout, skilled at moving around undetected, yet as fate would have it, his aim suffers profusely as he gets the shakes in his hands.

Looks:

Beneath this attire he has a mess of dirty blonde hair that's usually swept back out of his emerald eyes, he has a long hooked nose and a sharp chin that define him more than anything.

Other: Loves listening to the radio, even if it'll alert hostiles to his location.

[R0bE0]

Name: Y7-68 (Formerly)
Nickname: Newton
Age: Unknown. Appears in mid-30s.
Race: (3rd Gen) Synth

Morals: Very few, but he won't do anything to harm an animal or child. Likewise he holds disgust for slavers, or those who would bind others into servitude. He also isn't particularly fond of racists, as some of his best drinking buddies have been ghouls.
Flaws: Newton is a bitter guy, who generally doesn't 'play' well with others. His lone-wolf act has almost gotten him killed in the past, and yet he's stubborn enough not to want to change. He is also a terrible shot, especially with heavy weaponry. Don't give him a Missile Launcher or he'll accidentally blow himself (and everyone else) up.
Faction: Freelance Mercenary, (Formerly: The Institute)

Background: Originally he was a snyth working in the Institute, living an oblivious life as Y7-68. However he often thought about what the world above was like, and what life outside the Institute might be like. This was only intensified when a synth-sympathizer began to help synths leave the Institute. Eventually he decided to make his first major decision in life and attempt an escape. He was successful, and hasn't looked back since.

Of course his troubles were only just beginning. The Institute wasn't oblivious to their missing synths, and a courser was sent after him and the others who had made it out. It was only thanks to the generosity given by the Railroad that he is still alive to this day. He opted to go to the Memory Den to get his memories of the Institute erased, instead implanting him with the memories of that of a rather average settler of the wastes named Newton.

With his new memories, and a new take on life he left the wastes to go westward for about a year. However desperation drove him to need caps, and caps sometimes doing dirty work for scum people. Those sometimes turned into frequently hiring himself out as a mercenary. Eventually the haul of work that could be found back on the East cost drove him back.

Now he spends a good majority of his time in Goodneighbor and the surrounding area, selling his skills to whoever can afford them.

Looks: Newton is a fairly tall man, with a lean athletic build. He has short and curly platinum blonde hair that curls underneath the bottoms of his ears. His skin is a light peach, with a few blemishes along his arms and neck. His eyes are a light brown. He has a few scars on his torso and upper arms from fights, however the only noticeable one is one spanning the edge of his chin and across the bottom of his jawline.

Other: He's a pure melee-fighter, using a Deathclaw Gauntlet as his primary weapon of choice.

[Lunar]

Discontinued

[Lunar]

@lordofthepies is your character wearing what's in her picture?

[Marcus XVI]

Name: Maximilien 'Max' Sawyer
Nickname: The Chosen One, Old Man From the West
Age: 67
Race: Human
Morals: There used to be a time when he tried - no, when he was - a hero, but that was such a long time ago. The little spark of heroism is still buried somewhere deep within the man - no matter how much Max claims it's not there. If someone is in dire enough need of assistance he will help them at least a little bit. He'd rather just spend his remaining years telling old stories and teaching the younger folk a thing or two about doing things.

Flaws: Max is well past his prime, though his accuracy and gun handling skills are still above average his reaction time has suffered greatly. His back isn't what it used to be either - back in the day he could have spent a week just sleeping on the ground like it was the most comfortable thing ever. He has a rather nasty habit of being melancholic and bitter.

Faction: Though Max does still have a few contacts in the Brotherhood he is not an actual member. He counts himself as a citizen of the NCR - a fact that seems to get puzzled looks and questions from people. In other words Max is not a part of any of the major factions of the Boston area.

Background: Max was born in the village of Arroyo during the early stages of the New California Republic, before the First Battle of Hoover Dam even. In his youth he was a legend, a hero, a savior. Defeating the Enclave made him a well known figure across the wastelands, but all that happened so many years ago. Though he has seen many places - San Francisco New Vegas, The Great Salt Lake, Dog City - he has always wanted to see more.

Now Max's travels have taken him to Boston - a completely new frontier for him, perhaps even a place to finally stay and live through his remaining years - perhaps this will be the place he'll meet his end in a gunfight over something completely trivial, or then he might have one final chance for glory. Personally? He doesn't care either way.

Looks: Max stands slightly above 6 feet. His arms and shoulders lack the muscle they used to years ago. His age has not quite caught up with his face however which has remained handsome - though now with streaks of age and a rather nasty scar extending from the left side of his nose down to his chin. His black hair has also not thinned with age - though it's color has turned notably more gray. His green eyes no longer have any warmth in them - a fact that makes even the warmest look from the old man seem condescending or even threatening.

His vault suit still fits him well however. The yellow 13 still bright as ever. Over the suit he wears a simple brown duster and on his feet he has old military boots.

Other: Max carries with him only a PPK12 Gauss pistol - fully functional, but in dire need of repairs - and some rations to keep himself going.