Member
@Dynamo Frokane hey, I've fixed up my character sheet. Anything else I need to do or forgot about?
Thomas M. Harkens
Age: 21
Hight: 6.2 ft.
Weight: 192 pounds
Pilot class: Fixer
Nationality: Irish emigrant to Detroit, USA
Appearance:
Although his hair used to be a light brown it has been dyed jet black by the soot he is almost perpetually covered in. His stature tall and lanky with a constant stoop due to crawling into cramp aircraft pieces. He mostly wears a beat up bomber jacket and a pair of flight goggles.
Bio: After hard times hit his family in ireland when he was 5, they moved to the US after his dad, a retired pilot, was offered a job. Unknown to his family, that job was as a smuggler for a local Mob branch smuggling over lake michigan who needed pilots for expanding their operations into Canada. In his new home, Tom became extremely anti social towards other children, instead spending most of his time in his dad's new plane talking to the Engineers working on it. His dad, seeing that the airplane was the only thing that could get Tom to talk, aloud for him to come to the hanger as his 8th birthday present where he helped the engineers take it apart and put it back together again (mostly to uncover secret compartments) until a few years later his dad was shot down over the lake. This apparently took Tom over the edge. He stopped talking to anyone completely, and spent all of his time tinkering with the Mobs airplanes. At first they protested over Tom messing with the planes, but after they saw that the planes he tinkerd with where flue farther and faster that even their best racers, they just left him alone. But his magnum opus was an old bomber carcass that he got his hands on. For months he built it from the ground up, tinkering and modifying until there was barely any of the original plane left. Finnaly, once he was done, the Mob came by to claim it, understandably upset that Tom hadn't been fixing up their planes, only to find Tom holding a submachine gun refusing to let anyone onboard; shouting "You bastards can't have her! She's mine damn it! I won't have you getting her shot up!" He was nearly overrun when the Mob started trying to take the plane by force, but at the last minute Tom sealed shut the door and ran to the cockpit and took of, running down a few goons in the process. He then flew from town to town, bartering manual labor for parts and a scrap of bread here and there, until finding the blood wings. He was thrilled with excitement to sign up, and why wouldn't he be? Top of the line aircraft parts, and some food of which he desperately needed was a dream come true. Of course at first he was denied entry, on the basis of being a nutjob riding a pile of haphazardly bolted together scrap, but after downing a few of there top aircraft, he was admitted. Although obviously resented by the other, more stable pilots, his aircraft modifications are an extremely valuable asset. To this day he is being hunted by the Mob for "borrowing" there parts.
Plane: The Crimson Swan
Info: The swan is a surprisingly fast medium sized strike fighter, built out of scraps. It has a pair of repair drones in the bomb bay for exterior repairs, though Tom prefers climbing out and doing it himself whenever possible. It's roomy enough for him to live in for days, which he often does.
Weapons: 3 miniguns, up to 30 small unguided rockets, and a nose turret for someone brave enough to get in the plane with Tom. There's also a submachine gun in the cockpit for emergencies.
Weakness: It's haphazard design makes it extremely rickety and prone to falling apart if pushed too far. It's also not incredibly maneuverable and only really excels at straight line speed.
Thomas M. Harkens
Age: 21
Hight: 6.2 ft.
Weight: 192 pounds
Pilot class: Fixer
Nationality: Irish emigrant to Detroit, USA
Appearance:
Although his hair used to be a light brown it has been dyed jet black by the soot he is almost perpetually covered in. His stature tall and lanky with a constant stoop due to crawling into cramp aircraft pieces. He mostly wears a beat up bomber jacket and a pair of flight goggles.
Bio: After hard times hit his family in ireland when he was 5, they moved to the US after his dad, a retired pilot, was offered a job. Unknown to his family, that job was as a smuggler for a local Mob branch smuggling over lake michigan who needed pilots for expanding their operations into Canada. In his new home, Tom became extremely anti social towards other children, instead spending most of his time in his dad's new plane talking to the Engineers working on it. His dad, seeing that the airplane was the only thing that could get Tom to talk, aloud for him to come to the hanger as his 8th birthday present where he helped the engineers take it apart and put it back together again (mostly to uncover secret compartments) until a few years later his dad was shot down over the lake. This apparently took Tom over the edge. He stopped talking to anyone completely, and spent all of his time tinkering with the Mobs airplanes. At first they protested over Tom messing with the planes, but after they saw that the planes he tinkerd with where flue farther and faster that even their best racers, they just left him alone. But his magnum opus was an old bomber carcass that he got his hands on. For months he built it from the ground up, tinkering and modifying until there was barely any of the original plane left. Finnaly, once he was done, the Mob came by to claim it, understandably upset that Tom hadn't been fixing up their planes, only to find Tom holding a submachine gun refusing to let anyone onboard; shouting "You bastards can't have her! She's mine damn it! I won't have you getting her shot up!" He was nearly overrun when the Mob started trying to take the plane by force, but at the last minute Tom sealed shut the door and ran to the cockpit and took of, running down a few goons in the process. He then flew from town to town, bartering manual labor for parts and a scrap of bread here and there, until finding the blood wings. He was thrilled with excitement to sign up, and why wouldn't he be? Top of the line aircraft parts, and some food of which he desperately needed was a dream come true. Of course at first he was denied entry, on the basis of being a nutjob riding a pile of haphazardly bolted together scrap, but after downing a few of there top aircraft, he was admitted. Although obviously resented by the other, more stable pilots, his aircraft modifications are an extremely valuable asset. To this day he is being hunted by the Mob for "borrowing" there parts.
Plane: The Crimson Swan
Info: The swan is a surprisingly fast medium sized strike fighter, built out of scraps. It has a pair of repair drones in the bomb bay for exterior repairs, though Tom prefers climbing out and doing it himself whenever possible. It's roomy enough for him to live in for days, which he often does.
Weapons: 3 miniguns, up to 30 small unguided rockets, and a nose turret for someone brave enough to get in the plane with Tom. There's also a submachine gun in the cockpit for emergencies.
Weakness: It's haphazard design makes it extremely rickety and prone to falling apart if pushed too far. It's also not incredibly maneuverable and only really excels at straight line speed.