Terry K. Baha
Age:
He lost count a long time ago, and would prefer it not be brought up.
Gender:
Male
Specialty/Archetype:
Need someone to wade through a pool of radiated water? Need someone to throttle a centaur with his bare hands? Terry is your man. Being a ghoul, he laughs in the face of radiation, and enjoys small dosages. He has seen, and is disgusted by 'Glowing Ones', however, so refuses any excess amounts of radiation. In addition to his natural rad resistance, Terry is quite the sneaky bastard. He takes pride in his abilities to slink around undetected, be it to reach a safe, pickpocket a guard, or flank the enemy. Naturally, to accent this, he has a degree of skill in lock picking, able to pick apart most tumblers he might run across. Though it's not really a special ability of any sort, his long years spent slinking away in the darkness have given him a much better low-light vision than most who roam the Mojave. He won't touch an energy weapon, but he knows enough about guns to point them at peoples heads and shoot. He prefers sneaking up on people or creatures with his melee weapons, which he has quite the proficiency with.
Appearance:
Average height, with a slim build, certainly not muscular. He is extremely skinny thanks to his rotting skin wasting away. He wears a simple red button up shirt with a black vest on top. His pants are nothing more than tan cargo pants. Scrap metal has been pieced together haphazardly to make shoulder and knee pads, all rusted quite a bit. He has a small messenger bag slung across his back by way of a makeshift bandolier. Unsurprisingly, the clothes are tattered, faded, and stained. His skin is a pale gray, torn and rotted as would be expected of a ghoul. His ears and nose have entirely fallen off, as well as his lips, making his face a permanent scowl. His eyes are deeply sunken in, and flow a faint green, barely noticeable. He does have wavy black hair, about level with his mouth, but he has refused in the past to tell if it is a wig, or just well preserved.
Gear:
His only weapon that can hit from a distance is his silenced 10mm SMG, which he keeps plenty of ammo for with him at all times. He only uses it when there is no chance of getting close to his target, or if he needs to kill a lot of people very quickly. His weapon that sees the most use is his switchblade, stained red from sliding across so many necks. Should he need more 'firepower' he has a fire axe. He mostly uses it for the messy jobs, like dispatching of vermin and bugs.
He carries a single Stealth Boy with him, something he has been reluctant to use for quite awhile now. He has never gotten into any drugs, but might as well be addicted to Nuka-Cola, which he claims to be the one thing that has kept him running these years. He has an empty bottle of the stuff as a keepsake, and will take any opportunity to get more. He has a rather decent sum of bottlecaps to his name, but hates to spend any of it, especially considering how he got them
His only other noteworthy possession is a wedding ring, kept on a chain around his neck. That single item is worth more to him than most people will see in a lifetime, though you would be hard pressed to find anyone who would buy it for more than a few caps.
Personality:
Cynical, and generally grumpy, Terry is what you can expect from a ghoul. Though it is an admittedly hard shell he keeps up, once you get to know him, he becomes more likeable, if a bit insulting. He is very secretive and disloyal, feeling no hesitation to betray others, as long as it serves his own good. He is far nicer around other ghouls, but naturally, he doesn't run across too many. He isn't very quick to trust people, and often feels it best to stray from others. He tries not to kill people, as he is beginning to fear that he enjoys it too much. From time to time he struggles mentally, which he fears to be a sign that he is going feral. He has a tendency to be rather paranoid, especially at the mention of a man named 'Brutus'.
History:
Terry doesn't like to think about what it was like before he became a ghoul, but he remembers being fairly young when it happened. The story, as he remembers it, goes something like this: His life had been pretty simple, nothing out of the ordinary. He was dating a girl he had known for most of his life, and since most of his close friends had gotten married, he thought it best to join the bandwagon. The day he planned on proposing, just about everything went wrong. Warning sirens went off, and the two piled into a small homemade bomb shelter, being the only ones around. Naturally, it wasn't a very romantic moment, and Terry thought they would make it. When terry awoke, he was the monster he is today, and his girlfriend was a pile of ash.
That was not a good day to wander the Mojave. He went on a bit of an angry spree, gunning down just about anything that moved until he ran out of bullets. Months of scavenging brought him to his senses, realizing he needed to take a firm hold of this new world. He ran from city to city, finding it increasingly difficulty to find a place that would accept ghouls. An unlikely run-in with a band of traveling ghouls found him his home, at least for then. The town was run by NCR, and soon found that the ghouls had been doing some shady Jet dealings right beneath their noses. That was when Terry learned to be sneaky, the hard way.
After that, he found his way to a nice little town, much like the Goodsprings he once stayed in. While he stayed there, he learned of a small Legion camp, and the fact that they were planning on moving out for a raid. That night, he raided them, stealing some supplies to sell, and the SMG he uses today. Though unnoticed while pulling off the crime, the next morning, the Legion found out about the missing supplies, and razed his town, burning the buildings down with people still inside. That day, he swore hatred towards the Legion.
The years have taken him everywhere across the wasteland, from Freeside to the Happy Trails Caravan company. He never seemed to fit in anywhere he went, so he began fading into the background, disappearing into the wasteland. His adventures have made very few friends, and very many enemies, however. His only true friends are the NCR, and even they don't trust him.