cunfuzzler

[R6] Whispers of The Blazing Sky

Sinjang

Name:
Park Yoon-Hee

Callsign:
Sinjang

Age:
30

Gender:
Female

Nationality:
South Korean

DOB/Place:
July 30th, Pyeongchang

CTU:
KNP-SOU


Appearance:

Park Yoon-Hee

Yoon-Hee doesn't particularly stand out when outside of uniform standing at 5'6"(1.67 Meters) and weighing in at 134lbs(61kg). She generally keeps her hair in a messy rear spiral bun for almost all occasions, only letting her hair down for very special occasions Outside of combat she generally sticks to a fairly simple wardrobe of jeans and Ts and tank tops almost always paired with one of a collection of trenchcoats to conceal her sidearm.

Psychological Profile:

Yoon-Hee is a consummate professional, stone faced and all business she follows orders to the letter and expects others to do the same. The only exception to this is of course when her comrades are in the line of fire. She has only shown a willingness to divert from her strict adherence to protocol in situations wherein allies or civilians are in direct danger.

Outside of the job she is much the same, rarely showing any emotion without a concerted effort from those around her to get a reaction of some kind. She is always on the lookout for danger and only allows herself to relax in very rare situations. She is not by any means personable, but her professionalism does extend to social niceties, always being sure to use the proper title of others in conversation and making an almost visible effort to be polite in social settings.

All said she does have something of a nationalist streak, Yoon-Hee holds a genuine belief in the superiority Korean technology, engineering and social constructs. This has been somewhat assuaged in recent years with her participation in joint operations with special forces of other nations and efforts from military psychiatrists, but is still apparent once you get scratch underneath the surface.

Role:
Attacker

Equipment

Primary: 2nd Generation Daewoo K11
- Integrated laser rangefinder/thermal scope
- Integrated 20mm airburst grenade launcher

Secondary: Daewoo K7
- Integrated suppressor

Secondary: H&K USP 45
- Red dot sight
- Tactical flashlight

- Smoke Grenades
- Breaching Charges

Operator Ability: Extent
While the K11 is practically an ability in it's own right, Yoon-Hee does bring an actual gadget to the table. But while the K11 is a product of cutting edge technology and thousands of man hours of engineering the Extent is pretty much the opposite. the Extent is for all intents and purposes a ladder. A man-portable ladder with a motor that allows it to extend to any length up to 12 feet within a couple seconds, but still a ladder all the same.

Bio:
Born and raised in Pyeongchang the youngest of three sibling and only daughter her adolescence was unremarkable and quiet apart from the occasional scares of North Korean aggression that came with living in a city close to the border. She grew up with a close yet very very competitive relationship with her brothers, always seeking to best them in every aspect from academics to skiing. So despite having no intention of joining any military branch it was natural that she did immediately out of school after her brothers had both been conscripted.

Yoon-Hee joined the KNP only a few weeks after finishing school. She found out quickly she was a natural at police work as well as picking up firearms as naturally as she would a pair of chopsticks. After three years of distinguished service she took the first opportunity she got to join the KNP's SOU. As a member of the SOU Yoon-Hee was given the ostensibly 'easy' job of being assigned to the Jeju Agency. Yoon-Hee while pleased with getting a position on the SOU was admittedly a little upset that she had been assigned to the relatively quiet island. She felt sure that it would be an assignment that would never afford her an opportunity to excel or prove herself.

For the next four years it seemed she was right, mostly only being called upon to arrest high risk criminals and generally spending more time in training exercises than actual danger. That was until her unit was called upon to deal with a particularly nasty situation, a hostage situation at the Jeju airport, a group of armed men had taken over an entire terminal. They were demanding 500 Billion Won, ten parachutes, and a fully fueled plane with a female pilot and copilot. Seeing the opportunity Yoon-Hee volunteered herself to pose as the co-pilot, originally the proposition was dismissed, but when the hostage takers accelerated their plans to executed hostages, her superiors were left with little choice.

Paired with a brave civilian pilot, given a crash course on the inner working of the plane she would be on, and armed only with a knife and the smallest .38 she had ever seen both in holsters on either calf, within the hour she was in the co-pilot's seat as her 'partner' taxi'd the plane up to the terminal and watched as the hostage takers boarded the plane along with several unlucky hostages they had decided to bring with them, she counted three hostiles and twelve hostages. About ten minutes into flight they were instructed to turn towards Mongolia and hail all pursuing jets and instruct them to fall off or they would begin executing hostages. Sensing her opportunity she returned from the cabin a few minutes later to inform the hostage takers that they were struggling to hail the F-16s. Luckily they took the bait and one of them followed her into the cabin to "Do it himself". No sooner had he picked up the radio than she disarmed him and jammed her knife through his throat. Knowing she had at most a minute to prepare before they got suspicious she quickly decided she would wait until one of them approached to check on their friend and rely on her aim from there. Unfortunately they didn't, instead shouting for their friend and demanding his response. With no options left Yoon-Hee grabbed the rifle off the body of the man she had dispatched and made the two if not most impressive definitely the most important shots of her life.

Not even a month had passed before she was informed that she had caught the eye of the Seoul SOU, eager at the chance to prove herself in the capital she took the opportunity without hesitation. Since then she has worked hard to impress her superiors and has for the most part excelled at every opportunity.

Relationships:
Park Sang-hyeok - Eldest Brother
Park In-seok - Elder Brother
[Redacted]

Service Record:
3 years with Pyeongchang KNP
4 years with Jeju KNP-SOU
5 years with Seoul KNP-SOU

[R6] Whispers of The Blazing Sky

Sinjang

Name:
Park Yoon-Hee

Callsign:
Sinjang

Age:
30

Gender:
Female

Nationality:
South Korean

DOB/Place:
July 30th, Pyeongchang

CTU:
KNP-SOU


Appearance:

Park Yoon-Hee

Yoon-Hee doesn't particularly stand out when outside of uniform standing at 5'6"(1.67 Meters) and weighing in at 134lbs(61kg). She generally keeps her hair in a messy rear spiral bun for almost all occasions, only letting her hair down for very special occasions Outside of combat she generally sticks to a fairly simple wardrobe of jeans and Ts and tank tops almost always paired with one of a collection of trenchcoats to conceal her sidearm.

Psychological Profile:

Yoon-Hee is a consummate professional, stone faced and all business she follows orders to the letter and expects others to do the same. The only exception to this is of course when her comrades are in the line of fire. She has only shown a willingness to divert from her strict adherence to protocol in situations wherein allies or civilians are in direct danger.

Outside of the job she is much the same, rarely showing any emotion without a concerted effort from those around her to get a reaction of some kind. She is always on the lookout for danger and only allows herself to relax in very rare situations. She is not by any means personable, but her professionalism does extend to social niceties, always being sure to use the proper title of others in conversation and making an almost visible effort to be polite in social settings.

All said she does have something of a nationalist streak, Yoon-Hee holds a genuine belief in the superiority Korean technology, engineering and social constructs. This has been somewhat assuaged in recent years with her participation in joint operations with special forces of other nations and efforts from military psychiatrists, but is still apparent once you get scratch underneath the surface.

Role:
Attacker

Equipment

Primary: 2nd Generation Daewoo K11
- Integrated laser rangefinder/thermal scope
- Integrated 20mm airburst grenade launcher

Secondary: Daewoo K7
- Integrated suppressor

Secondary: H&K USP 45
- Red dot sight
- Tactical flashlight

- Smoke Grenades
- Breaching Charges

Operator Ability: Extent
While the K11 is practically an ability in it's own right, Yoon-Hee does bring an actual gadget to the table. But while the K11 is a product of cutting edge technology and thousands of man hours of engineering the Extent is pretty much the opposite. the Extent is for all intents and purposes a ladder. A man-portable ladder with a motor that allows it to extend to any length up to 12 feet within a couple seconds, but still a ladder all the same.

Bio:
Born and raised in Pyeongchang the youngest of three sibling and only daughter her adolescence was unremarkable and quiet apart from the occasional scares of North Korean aggression that came with living in a city close to the border. She grew up with a close yet very very competitive relationship with her brothers, always seeking to best them in every aspect from academics to skiing. So despite having no intention of joining any military branch it was natural that she did immediately out of school after her brothers had both been conscripted.

Yoon-Hee joined the KNP only a few weeks after finishing school. She found out quickly she was a natural at police work as well as picking up firearms as naturally as she would a pair of chopsticks. After three years of distinguished service she took the first opportunity she got to join the KNP's SOU. As a member of the SOU Yoon-Hee was given the ostensibly 'easy' job of being assigned to the Jeju Agency. Yoon-Hee while pleased with getting a position on the SOU was admittedly a little upset that she had been assigned to the relatively quiet island. She felt sure that it would be an assignment that would never afford her an opportunity to excel or prove herself.

For the next four years it seemed she was right, mostly only being called upon to arrest high risk criminals and generally spending more time in training exercises than actual danger. That was until her unit was called upon to deal with a particularly nasty situation, a hostage situation at the Jeju airport, a group of armed men had taken over an entire terminal. They were demanding 500 Billion Won, ten parachutes, and a fully fueled plane with a female pilot and copilot. Seeing the opportunity Yoon-Hee volunteered herself to pose as the co-pilot, originally the proposition was dismissed, but when the hostage takers accelerated their plans to executed hostages, her superiors were left with little choice.

Paired with a brave civilian pilot, given a crash course on the inner working of the plane she would be on, and armed only with a knife and the smallest .38 she had ever seen both in holsters on either calf, within the hour she was in the co-pilot's seat as her 'partner' taxi'd the plane up to the terminal and watched as the hostage takers boarded the plane along with several unlucky hostages they had decided to bring with them, she counted three hostiles and twelve hostages. About ten minutes into flight they were instructed to turn towards Mongolia and hail all pursuing jets and instruct them to fall off or they would begin executing hostages. Sensing her opportunity she returned from the cabin a few minutes later to inform the hostage takers that they were struggling to hail the F-16s. Luckily they took the bait and one of them followed her into the cabin to "Do it himself". No sooner had he picked up the radio than she disarmed him and jammed her knife through his throat. Knowing she had at most a minute to prepare before they got suspicious she quickly decided she would wait until one of them approached to check on their friend and rely on her aim from there. Unfortunately they didn't, instead shouting for their friend and demanding his response. With no options left Yoon-Hee grabbed the rifle off the body of the man she had dispatched and made the two if not most impressive definitely the most important shots of her life.

Not even a month had passed before she was informed that she had caught the eye of the Seoul SOU, eager at the chance to prove herself in the capital she took the opportunity without hesitation. Since then she has worked hard to impress her superiors and has for the most part excelled at every opportunity.

Relationships:
Park Sang-hyeok - Eldest Brother
Park In-seok - Elder Brother
[Redacted]

Service Record:
3 years with Pyeongchang KNP
4 years with Jeju KNP-SOU
5 years with Seoul KNP-SOU

Rainbow Six – Whispers of The Blazing Sky

I joined the chat, but I think my discord is acting up because it's not showing any message log or users in the channel. I'll try again tomorrow, since it's getting a little late here.

@DegenerateThree

Same, for me there is a members list, but they're all blank and when I click on the 'Load More Messages' it acts like it is but does nothing.

Edit: NVM, I just had to restart Discord three times. It was so obvious!

Rainbow Six – Whispers of The Blazing Sky

If you have room for any more, I'm interested.

Fallout: Into the Storm

Rylan stared up at the wall for a few moments before being distracted by the raindrops splashing against his visor. Each one impacted and dispersed into a unique trail that would roll down his visor. In his current state of mind, high as fuck on a chem cocktail that'd kill a lesser or perhaps just smaller man. They were a beautiful sight to behold, it reminded him of the glee he felt in the countless times he had watched blood splash against the same visor as he rended the flesh of his victims into pieces to be hung outside their camp. Good times indeed.

Rylan's armor made a faint clatter with every step he took into the subway tunnels. He gently lowered his duffel bag to the ground at his feet as he took up a position leaning against the tunnel wall, acutely aware that the bag represented likely his only chance of a fix for the next few days at least. He glanced around at his counterparts, for the most part they looked the "civilised" kind, even a couple Brotherhood peons had found there way into this little mission. None of them seemed to be his kind of people except maybe the ghoul. Rylan could never get the measure of a ghoul, but by and large he liked them, squishy but not soft, easy to cut but hard to kill. It was a lesson he had learned the hard way many times, few of them were screamers, he figured having your flesh melt off must have been comparable to what he put them through.

Still though, no sign of "Pariah" not that he particularly cared. He was going in whether he got paid or not. Fifty-five was damn old for someone in his line of work and he had no intentions of seeing his body wither away like so many elder wastelanders, weak and helpless, absolutely disgusting. He was gonna die on his feet and while nothing so far had been up to the task, this little endeavor seemed to have promise, after all you don't go somewhere called "Necropolis" without expecting some death to occur.

"If they don't show soon I'm going in regardless." Rylan brought his rifle up and examined it one last time, once he was satisfied the action was in working order he pushed against the upper and lower blades to make sure they were still sturdily held in place, they were. "Got shit to do, places to be, things to kill."

Fallout: Into the Storm

Rylan Cabot

Rylan Cabot

Unmasked

_{{ "Yeah I kill people. I don't eat them though, jeesh." }}

- General Characteristics -

| Full Name|

Rylan Montgomery Cabot

| {Nickname/Callsign} |

Paladin

| {Age} |

55

| {Gender} |

Male

| {Face Claim} |

Christopher Heyerdahl

| {Dialogue Color} |

Lime Green

| {Appearance} |

Rylan is tall and built like a brick shit house. Standing at 6'5" and weighing in at just over 220 lbs, Rylan is quite an intimidating presence even outside of his imposing armor. His only barely blue eyes and heavily greying beard give his face a sense of weariness, though the lack of facial scars alleviates that somewhat when contrasted to the dozens of scars across the rest of his body. Most notable of which are a large laser burn on his right shoulder and several large lacerations on the left side of his abdomen, a souvenir of a long ago encounter with a deathclaw.

---

- Psychological Profile -

| {Personality} |

Rylan is absolutely ruthless, with no regard for the sanctity of life whatsoever, he just doesn't really understand it, compassion and sympathy are foreign concepts he is only recently trying to grasp. He genuinely takes pleasure in watching his foes die before him and has no reservations about torturing those who have crossed him. With that said, in friendly company you'd never know it, around others he is loud, boisterous and even friendly. With a generous predilection towards sharing his significant stash of narcotics with others. He is more than willing to speak his mind on any subject, especially when under the influence.

| {Fears/Limitations} |

Most obviously, Rylan is addicted to Psycho, he has to have it at least once a day or else he undergoes some pretty severe withdrawal symptoms. That aside, despite being pretty well fearless Rylan has plenty of limitations, he struggles to relate to others in any way. His sense of compassion is completely absent and any situation that can be solved more easily through conversation than dismemberment is beyond his means.

| {Place of Origin} |

Born to a raider clan in eastern Michigan, he spent most of his life killing and pillaging. He spent decades climbing the ranks of his clan before eventually becoming the leader. One day though he just left, deciding to spend his last few years in a less malicious existence.

| {Background} |

Fifty-five years ago Rylan was born to a young raider when his mother died in labor and his father only provided the barest necessities to him. He quickly set out to prove his worth to his clan, the 'Motor Knights' a clan of raiders notable for their use of automobile parts in making their thick metal armors. He served them at a young age by spying on other clans and running packages, mostly drugs across the clan's territory. He proved himself more than adequate at his tasks.

But of course you're not a real member of any raider clan worth their salt until you've made your first kill. Rylan knew his was coming soon when they brought him along for a raid on the citizens of the remains of Detroit. He was only ten at the time of the raid. Overall the raid went amazingly well for the clan, they established a permanent presence at the Chryslus building and retrieved hundreds of pounds of food, drugs and ammo. But most notably for Rylan was a young man in a small settlement on the outskirts of the city proper. He looked to be in his early twenties and had apparently killed three of his comrades before being subdued. Rylan was brought into the room and given a gun, the man didn't speak a word, he was expecting him to beg, ask for his life to be spared but he just sat there and stared at him. Eager to prove himself, Rylan pulled the trigger and watched his corpse slump down to the ground. He had expected it to affect him, but it didn't.

Over the next few years Rylan continued to prove himself, taking a more active combat role in the clan's raids. He quickly gained a reputation for his ruthlessness and earned the nickname of "The Young Butcher" at the age of fifteen. So named for his gleeful enthusiasm for disarming his foes before closing the distance and dismembering them alive. Eventually he outgrew his nickname though and simply became "The Butcher" and with it he outgrew his complacency to merely be that butcher. Unfortunately for the loose leadership of the clan the method for ascending the ranks was quite clear cut and bloody. A duel to the death. He made his first challenge when he was twenty, challenging a lieutenant for his position. The rules were simple the challenged chose the weapons, no firearms allowed and the winner was whoever was still alive. He chose a polearm and the duel lasted just over a minute, ending with a slash across the young lieutenant's abdomen that sent his guts spilling out.

Over the next five years Rylan engaged in several duels, climbing the ranks of the clan steadily to the point that at one time the next above him disappeared only a few days after he became the next in line for Rylan's string of duels. Eventually though he rose through the ranks until there was only one opponent left to face, the leader of the knights was a big man with more experience than any other in the clan. Rylan spent two years as his right hand man, undertaking the most dangerous tasks he had ever heard of. Most in the clan saw it as their leader trying to kill off his only real competition, and the thought wasn't lost on Rylan. Though he chose to believe otherwise that he was being seasoned so he would be a good leader for the clan when the time came. And eventually the time did come when he was twenty-seven a few days of recovery after singlehandedly wiping out a small super mutant camp in Flint.

The duel was unorthodox to say the least while most duelss were fought with bladed weapons anything that wasn't a gun was available and for their duel the chosen weapon was simply two long carved wooden sticks. The duel lasted almost an hour until both were too exhausted to stand, it wasn't a clean kill, it was messy, a bad way to die. It ended when Rylan managed to get on top of his exhausted counterpart and leveraged hist weight upon the stick against his foe's windpipe.

Under the many years of his rule the clan's territory almost tripled, becoming the dominant raider clan in the Detroit area. He often led the charge in attacks on population centers and his reputation as "The Butcher of Detroit" often preceded him leading to many settlement instead having significant offerings ready. But he knew as well as anyone that passively accepting offerings from the weak would lead the clan into weakness. As such he made sure to occasionally butcher entire settlements for no reason other than to keep his and his warriors skills sharp. Of course during his multiple decades spanning reign he was challenged multiple times, though the closest anyone ever got to defeating him only left him with a significant scar running straight down his left thigh from a dying foes' final surprise attack with his axe.

Years of murder wear on a man however and as his fiftieth birthday approached Rylan decided to call it quits. It took almost as long for him to understand he was the bad guy, that his actions were wrong. Maybe it was the words of the last family he forced to watch as he dismembered them one by one, or perhaps it was just the wisdom of time, or maybe it was just that he didn't want to die with the best thing he'd done being wiping out some poor sods just trying to get by in the wasteland. He considered leading the clan into peace, but realized quickly that it wouldn't fly, he'd be assassinated by those stuck in the old ways without a doubt. If he was going to have peace he'd have to find it on his own. So on the night of his fiftieth birthday after a raucous celebration which was highlighted by several deaths. Including three he personally perpetrated on the three clan leaders he considered most unstable. He disappeared into the night.

Over the next five years Rylan took to trying to be a good guy. He helped many settlements with their problems in his travels. And though many were dubious of his just kill bad guys until the problem goes away methodology, the results couldn't be denied. Eventually his reputation spread, and he earned a new nickname. "The Wandering Paladin" so named for his heavy armor and seemingly good natured intent among all those he crossed.

---

- Survival Characteristics -

| {Non-Combat Skills} |

The Butcher - Rylan's old nickname was genuinely accurate, he learned how to skin, quarter and debone meat with spectacular efficiency.

Car? Armor! - Like everyone else in his old clan Rylan learned to make armor from the many old cars and metal in the ruins of Detroit. He is adept at making makeshift armor from scrap metal.

Built like an Ox - While he won't be arm wrestling a super mutant and age has withered him a bit, Rylan is still almost freakishly strong.

| {Possessions} |

1x Black Leather Duffel Bag
4x 20 oz. bottles of water
2x Sealed Brahmin Steaks
2x Daddy-O syringes
1x Bottle of Day Tripper
1x Bottle of Buffout
1x Jet Inhaler
1x Fury syringe
1x X-Cell inhaler
6x Psycho syringes
1x Bottle Rad-X
1x Dose of RadAway
1x Zippo style lighter

| {Combat Skills} |

CQC!? - Rylan is more than adept at fighting foes at close range. Though usually he can rely on his superior strength and size he has on occasion been outmatched in those categories and as such learned some genuinely good fighting technique with a melee weapon.

I'll Stick With Bullets Thanks. - Big loud guns that use a chemical reaction to propel a projectile at lethal velocity, that's his bag and he is damn good at it, none of that laser, radiation, plasma or magnetic bullshit.

The Armor's Just For Show - It's definitely not, but even without it Rylan can shrug off most wounds at least for a few minutes.

| {Gear} |

1x Heavily Modified M14 with massive steel blades above and below the barrel, 65 round of ammunition.
1x Gas mask (1 spare filter)
1x Full suit of metal armor(Formerly a Chryslus Corvega)
1x Bowie Knife
2x Stimpaks
1x Med-X

Fallout: Into the Storm

@cunfuzzler, since Rylan was also from a raider camp, maybe he and Frankie know one another on some level? She was taken from her home to a (non-specific) raider camp since she had medical skills, so it could always be the one he is from. And, I can imagine she's had to sew him up quite often, lol.

Anyway, just a thought :)

@Dread

I'm down, though I dunno if the timelines would matchup since he hasn't been an actual raider in five years & I dunno when she was taken. Though someone who knew him as the Butcher would certainly be interesting.

Fallout: Into the Storm

Finally got around to putting together a CS.

CS

Rylan Cabot

Unmasked

_{{ "Yeah I kill people. I don't eat them though, jeesh." }}

- General Characteristics -

| Full Name|

Rylan Montgomery Cabot

| {Nickname/Callsign} |

Paladin

| {Age} |

55

| {Gender} |

Male

| {Face Claim} |

Christopher Heyerdahl

| {Dialogue Color} |

Lime Green

| {Appearance} |

Rylan is tall and built like a brick shit house. Standing at 6'5" and weighing in at just over 220 lbs, Rylan is quite an intimidating presence even outside of his imposing armor. His only barely blue eyes and heavily greying beard give his face a sense of weariness, though the lack of facial scars alleviates that somewhat when contrasted to the dozens of scars across the rest of his body. Most notable of which are a large laser burn on his right shoulder and several large lacerations on the left side of his abdomen, a souvenir of a long ago encounter with a deathclaw.

---

- Psychological Profile -

| {Personality} |

Rylan is absolutely ruthless, with no regard for the sanctity of life whatsoever, he just doesn't really understand it, compassion and sympathy are foreign concepts he is only recently trying to grasp. He genuinely takes pleasure in watching his foes die before him and has no reservations about torturing those who have crossed him. With that said, in friendly company you'd never know it, around others he is loud, boisterous and even friendly. With a generous predilection towards sharing his significant stash of narcotics with others. He is more than willing to speak his mind on any subject, especially when under the influence.

| {Fears/Limitations} |

Most obviously, Rylan is addicted to Psycho, he has to have it at least once a day or else he undergoes some pretty severe withdrawal symptoms. That aside, despite being pretty well fearless Rylan has plenty of limitations, he struggles to relate to others in any way. His sense of compassion is completely absent and any situation that can be solved more easily through conversation than dismemberment is beyond his means.

| {Place of Origin} |

Born to a raider clan in eastern Michigan, he spent most of his life killing and pillaging. He spent decades climbing the ranks of his clan before eventually becoming the leader. One day though he just left, deciding to spend his last few years in a less malicious existence.

| {Background} |

Fifty-five years ago Rylan was born to a young raider when his mother died in labor and his father only provided the barest necessities to him. He quickly set out to prove his worth to his clan, the 'Motor Knights' a clan of raiders notable for their use of automobile parts in making their thick metal armors. He served them at a young age by spying on other clans and running packages, mostly drugs across the clan's territory. He proved himself more than adequate at his tasks.

But of course you're not a real member of any raider clan worth their salt until you've made your first kill. Rylan knew his was coming soon when they brought him along for a raid on the citizens of the remains of Detroit. He was only ten at the time of the raid. Overall the raid went amazingly well for the clan, they established a permanent presence at the Chryslus building and retrieved hundreds of pounds of food, drugs and ammo. But most notably for Rylan was a young man in a small settlement on the outskirts of the city proper. He looked to be in his early twenties and had apparently killed three of his comrades before being subdued. Rylan was brought into the room and given a gun, the man didn't speak a word, he was expecting him to beg, ask for his life to be spared but he just sat there and stared at him. Eager to prove himself, Rylan pulled the trigger and watched his corpse slump down to the ground. He had expected it to affect him, but it didn't.

Over the next few years Rylan continued to prove himself, taking a more active combat role in the clan's raids. He quickly gained a reputation for his ruthlessness and earned the nickname of "The Young Butcher" at the age of fifteen. So named for his gleeful enthusiasm for disarming his foes before closing the distance and dismembering them alive. Eventually he outgrew his nickname though and simply became "The Butcher" and with it he outgrew his complacency to merely be that butcher. Unfortunately for the loose leadership of the clan the method for ascending the ranks was quite clear cut and bloody. A duel to the death. He made his first challenge when he was twenty, challenging a lieutenant for his position. The rules were simple the challenged chose the weapons, no firearms allowed and the winner was whoever was still alive. He chose a polearm and the duel lasted just over a minute, ending with a slash across the young lieutenant's abdomen that sent his guts spilling out.

Over the next five years Rylan engaged in several duels, climbing the ranks of the clan steadily to the point that at one time the next above him disappeared only a few days after he became the next in line for Rylan's string of duels. Eventually though he rose through the ranks until there was only one opponent left to face, the leader of the knights was a big man with more experience than any other in the clan. Rylan spent two years as his right hand man, undertaking the most dangerous tasks he had ever heard of. Most in the clan saw it as their leader trying to kill off his only real competition, and the thought wasn't lost on Rylan. Though he chose to believe otherwise that he was being seasoned so he would be a good leader for the clan when the time came. And eventually the time did come when he was twenty-seven a few days of recovery after singlehandedly wiping out a small super mutant camp in Flint.

The duel was unorthodox to say the least while most duelss were fought with bladed weapons anything that wasn't a gun was available and for their duel the chosen weapon was simply two long carved wooden sticks. The duel lasted almost an hour until both were too exhausted to stand, it wasn't a clean kill, it was messy, a bad way to die. It ended when Rylan managed to get on top of his exhausted counterpart and leveraged hist weight upon the stick against his foe's windpipe.

Under the many years of his rule the clan's territory almost tripled, becoming the dominant raider clan in the Detroit area. He often led the charge in attacks on population centers and his reputation as "The Butcher of Detroit" often preceded him leading to many settlement instead having significant offerings ready. But he knew as well as anyone that passively accepting offerings from the weak would lead the clan into weakness. As such he made sure to occasionally butcher entire settlements for no reason other than to keep his and his warriors skills sharp. Of course during his multiple decades spanning reign he was challenged multiple times, though the closest anyone ever got to defeating him only left him with a significant scar running straight down his left thigh from a dying foes' final surprise attack with his axe.

Years of murder wear on a man however and as his fiftieth birthday approached Rylan decided to call it quits. It took almost as long for him to understand he was the bad guy, that his actions were wrong. Maybe it was the words of the last family he forced to watch as he dismembered them one by one, or perhaps it was just the wisdom of time, or maybe it was just that he didn't want to die with the best thing he'd done being wiping out some poor sods just trying to get by in the wasteland. He considered leading the clan into peace, but realized quickly that it wouldn't fly, he'd be assassinated by those stuck in the old ways without a doubt. If he was going to have peace he'd have to find it on his own. So on the night of his fiftieth birthday after a raucous celebration which was highlighted by several deaths. Including three he personally perpetrated on the three clan leaders he considered most unstable. He disappeared into the night.

Over the next five years Rylan took to trying to be a good guy. He helped many settlements with their problems in his travels. And though many were dubious of his just kill bad guys until the problem goes away methodology, the results couldn't be denied. Eventually his reputation spread, and he earned a new nickname. "The Wandering Paladin" so named for his heavy armor and seemingly good natured intent among all those he crossed.

---

- Survival Characteristics -

| {Non-Combat Skills} |

The Butcher - Rylan's old nickname was genuinely accurate, he learned how to skin, quarter and debone meat with spectacular efficiency.

Car? Armor! - Like everyone else in his old clan Rylan learned to make armor from the many old cars and metal in the ruins of Detroit. He is adept at making makeshift armor from scrap metal.

Built like an Ox - While he won't be arm wrestling a super mutant and age has withered him a bit, Rylan is still almost freakishly strong.

| {Possessions} |

1x Black Leather Duffel Bag
4x 20 oz. bottles of water
2x Sealed Brahmin Steaks
2x Daddy-O syringes
1x Bottle of Day Tripper
1x Bottle of Buffout
1x Jet Inhaler
1x Fury syringe
1x X-Cell inhaler
6x Psycho syringes
1x Bottle Rad-X
1x Dose of RadAway
1x Zippo style lighter

| {Combat Skills} |

CQC!? - Rylan is more than adept at fighting foes at close range. Though usually he can rely on his superior strength and size he has on occasion been outmatched in those categories and as such learned some genuinely good fighting technique with a melee weapon.

I'll Stick With Bullets Thanks. - Big loud guns that use a chemical reaction to propel a projectile at lethal velocity, that's his bag and he is damn good at it, none of that laser, radiation, plasma or magnetic bullshit.

The Armor's Just For Show - It's definitely not, but even without it Rylan can shrug off most wounds at least for a few minutes.

| {Gear} |

1x Heavily Modified M14 with massive steel blades above and below the barrel, 65 round of ammunition.
1x Gas mask (1 spare filter)
1x Full suit of metal armor(Formerly a Chryslus Corvega)
1x Bowie Knife
2x Stimpaks
1x Med-X

Digimon: Digital Monsters- V3

"Yes ma'am."

"And the name is Lizzy McShea, but let's stick with 'ma'am' for now shall we?"

The little creature nodded and Lizzy felt a pang of remorse at her own cold demeanor but shrugged it off quickly."Yes ma'am." Lizzy and her companion made their way back to the others just in time to witness what she could only described as some kind of angel descending upon them. She thought back to her time at school and the regular lessons in the faith that accompanied it. Reflexively she scratched at her neck, it had been many months since she wore her school uniform but she could still feel the irritating touch of her blouse supported by the school jumper rubbing against her neck. Years of that and it never quit being uncomfortable.

Eventually the angel addressed each of them herself included. She felt a bit insulted by it's remark, though she wouldn't contest it's truth she just didn't like having character flaws pointed out by strangers. Especially when they're pointing out the very real fact that she was in a word 'insincere'. Though the real stinger was the context, surrounded by a bunch of strangers in a foreign land she had basically just been labelled. From everything she had gleaned about her situation so far she was going to have to spend a fair amount of time with these folks, a certain level of trust would be essential. Something not easy to cultivate with a group after they witness a divine being label you a liar.

After a few moments of letting it stew she began muttering to herself aloud. "Sincerity!? What gives tacky two-face here the authority to run her sanctimonious gob about my 'sincerity'. Best believe I'm being pretty fookin sincere about that!" Lizzy could hear her own accent begin to exaggerate as her words drew on into a more traditional melodic Irish accent and felt immediately embarrassed. More than a little part of her expected to be instantly destroyed by the being for her insolence. Although she tried her best to remain stoic, Lizzy glanced down at Thorn hoping for the Digimon to do something though she wasn't sure what.

"No need to get worked up ma'am. You're digidestined, she only mentioned it because you are capable of greatness. I have no doubt you're the most sincere person I will ever meet!"

Lizzy rolled her eyes. "Look, I think you have the wrong person." She crouched down so she'd be at least near eye level with Thorn. "I'm known for a lot of things, but few of them are good and even less are honest. You're expecting some kind of hero, but I'm the opposite. I once spent four months gaining the trust of a classmate so I could convince her, that her friend slept with her fella. Just so I could watch it play out."

Thorn beamed back at her."Excuse my forwardness ma'am, but if that was who you are, would you have told me that?"

Lizzy rolled her eyes again and stood up, Thorn was right in a way. What she had just done was foolish. Why did she care about Thorn knowing the truth of her character, it would have been easier to keep her mouth shut. Hell the very act of meeting at eye level with Thorn was making a concession she had no need to make. She'd had a moment of weakness but resolved herself to not let it happen again. She made sure to not look at Thorn as she spoke again. "We're done talking about this Thorn."

She wasn't exactly capable of reading the digimon's face yet but she could have sworn the smile that crossed Thorn's face as she replied betrayed a bit of sly satisfaction. "Of course ma'am."

Lizzy finally turned her attention to the weird looking froglike Digimon that was addressing the group. Her only reply was to dismissively shake her head. These Digimon put far too much stock in words and belief, it's sickeningly naive.

Digimon: Digital Monsters- V3

May have to change the color on Thorn, but I'll do that tomorrow if necessary, just wanted to get the post up and didn't notice how bad that color displays until I was done.