Dragonbud

Fallout: Under Silver Skies [Closed]

Yeah friendship! If anyone wants to be pals with the raider hit me up!

Fallout: Under Silver Skies [Closed]

-nervously looks at everyone hating raiders. Looks at my Raider-

we are all gonna be best friends

Fallout: Under Silver Skies [Closed]

Dusty

Name/Nicknames: Her birth name is Jessica Wells, but hasn't been called that in a very long time. Her Boxer name was "Duster" and this adapted to he Raider, and current, name: Dusty.

Age: 28

Gender: Female

Appearance:

Dusty is on the smaller side, 5'4 and has a muscular build after years of combat training. Her hair is tangled and cut in all different lengths, most likely the result of cutting her own hair with a knife while high. As both a force of intimidation and for the ease of comfort Dusty still wears ragged Raider Armor, a mismatched set of various scavenged bits of leather armor enhanced with spikes, leftover from her time running with them. Dusty can useably be seen accessorizing her rough exterior with bruising and scrapes all along her body. The girl never is seen without her trusty set of spiked knuckles. Her weapons are the only thing she carries with her that seems to be unkept.

Race: Human

Personality: Dusty has two rather distinct personalities, it honestly depends on when you talk to her. When Dusty finds herself without her Fix she is irritable and reckless, loud mouthed and paranoid. Everyone's out to get her, everyone wants what she's looking for. And she'll kill them for it. She would do anything to get rid of the itch under her skin and the pounding in the back of her skull. Rob people, beat the shit out of a lone NCR solider, burn down a farm. It doesn't matter as long as she gets what she wants. Once her needs are satisfied you see a very different Dusty. Relaxed and spontaneous, first one to suggest everyone tries wrestling Rad Roaches and hands out beers to the winners. When Dusty isn't craving she is more then happy to laze around in the sun, spooking trade caravans and exchanging stories with her friends.

Strengths: Her, well, strength is her biggest strength. She's also quick on her feet, quickly moving into battle and landing hits before her enemy even has time to pull out a weapon. Her quickness also translates into stealthiness. Dusty doesn't wear clunky armor, and knows how to move without making a sound. She excels in unarmed combat, her punches hurting just as much as any melee weapon. Dusty has survived on her own for a long time, so she is comfortable out in the wasteland. She is able to scavenge food and supplies from almost everywhere.

Weaknesses: Dusty is extremely addicted to several drugs, mostly Buffout and Hydra. As long as she has her fix she's fine, but as soon as her high starts to wear off things go wrong. She finds herself feeling nervous and jumpy. Irritable and impatient. Her hands always have a slight tremble to them, so shooting never goes well. Dusty also never learned skills involving reading or writing, and isn't particularly intelligent. Her illiteracy is actually rather embarrassing to her, and she hates when people points it out. Dusty also isn't much of a team player, especially with people she doesn't know or like. She is known to take advantage of people, and ditch them when she is bored of them.

Back-story: Dusty was born and raised on a small settlement, struggling to survive in the Wasteland. The settlement was several families, including Dusty's family, farming and working the land to something livable. It wasn't a bad life, it was dangerous but the whole world was dangerous. But this life wasn't for Dusty.

Dusty had always considered herself a good fighter, she was quick with her hands and quicker on her feet. Dusty never really thought she was providing anything to her families settlement or farm. Her siblings excelled at taking care of plants and animals, or building and fortifying. One of them even learned about medicine by reading, a skill she taught herself. Dusty was able to satisfy her desires to fight for a few years in her childhood by punching roaches and cutting wood. But it was never enough. Her family needed caps, but Dusty had no way to make caps, legitimately.

Dusty had heard of, in a nearby 'city', an underground boxing ring. Lots of Caps to be made, you just had to survive. Dusty was fifteen when she left home, promising to send caps back. She lied to the bouncer, saying she was eighteen. Not that the man minded, Dusty was gonna fight and make him some caps. It didn't matter how old she was, or how bad of a choice this was.

The first few fights were disasters. Her opponents were all much bigger and stronger then she was. But Dusty wasn't willing to give up. She trained daily, alone. One day, after a fight she nearly won, a man came up to her. He said he saw the potential in her, and offered to sponsor her. The jingling of caps in his pocket was enough to get her to sign on. Dusty continued her training, with the thought of the next prize egging her on. Her next fight, at age sixteen, was her first knock-out victory. She ate well that night, and even had cooled water.

Dusty was on a steady uphill, winning more and more fights and winning more and more caps. And as she became a more popular fighter she gained more perks from her sponsor. The perks of joining him were, besides the caps, a trail run of some drugs that might make her a better fighter. Dusty insisted that she would be fine without the drugs. But her next fight she nearly lost. After this near defeat Dusty grew worried that she wasn't getting any stronger, and took her first dose of Buffout.

The results were instant, Dusty felt great. And her sponsor even was willing to buy her her next few doses! Dusty's next few fights were a breeze. A dose of Buffout before each fight and a dose of Hydra after the fight to fix up her arms. But soon Dusty was taking Buffout in between fights, and Hydra whenever she was feeling a little achey. And then her sponsor stopped paying for her bad habit, but was willing to sell it to her for a discounted price. And she did.

Soon all of her winnings were going into Hydra and Buffout. She was barely scrapping enough winning money to buy her next dose. And she was getting angry. Dusty began to be sloppy with her drugs, and the owner of the Boxing ring discovered the discarded drug containers. She was quickly chased from town, with her supplier already off to find his next victim. Dusty had nowhere to go. She was 18 and had nothing but the Hydra and Buffout she was able to snag before she left. She had no reason to go home, her family likely assumed she was dead. All she knew was that she needed more of her stuff.

She met the Raiders a few months later, while she was scavenging through some of their territory. She was captured, and told she could earn her freedom if she could defeat their greatest in a contest of strength. Dusty had no trouble beating their warrior, and was allowed to join the Raiders, as they had control over most of the drug trade in the Wasteland. Dusty lived with the Raiders for several years, fighting everything she wanted and taking whatever she wanted. Bad habits got worse and Dusty found herself one of the leaders of the Raiders. She was feared by adventurers of their area, no one daring to enter their territory. Things were looking good.

That was until SOMEONE touched her stash.

And Dusty knew exactly who it was! That dirt bag who hit on her! Who thought he was top dog when the leader wasn't looking! And she knew exactly what to do to people who touched her stash! Hopped up on Buffout she marched up to him during a meal and snapped his neck with her hands. And as much as the Raiders loved swift and violent justice, the man was of higher rank. Dusty was chased out, for the second time in her life. This time Dusty had nowhere else to turn, constantly on the run. She had no issue with this, why stay with people if they are just gonna kick you out later. And lucky for her her stash was quite large, she had enough time to find some more product.

Dusty now wanders the wastes alone, showing no fear to any man or beast. She, in attempt to keep herself well supplied, often sells her services to weak looking settlers and wastelanders. But she rarely sticks around long enough to help them, instead leaving in the night after taking what she wants.

Other: Dusty is addicted to Buffout, Hydra and Psycho. Psycho and Buffout are her favorite "treats".

Fallout: Under Silver Skies [Closed]

Dusty

Name/Nicknames: Her birth name is Jessica Wells, but hasn't been called that in a very long time. Her Boxer name was "Duster" and this adapted to he Raider, and current, name: Dusty.

Age: 28

Gender: Female

Appearance:

Dusty is on the smaller side, 5'4 and has a muscular build after years of combat training. Her hair is tangled and cut in all different lengths, most likely the result of cutting her own hair with a knife while high. As both a force of intimidation and for the ease of comfort Dusty still wears ragged Raider Armor, a mismatched set of various scavenged bits of leather armor enhanced with spikes, leftover from her time running with them. Dusty can useably be seen accessorizing her rough exterior with bruising and scrapes all along her body. The girl never is seen without her trusty set of spiked knuckles. Her weapons are the only thing she carries with her that seems to be unkept.

Race: Human

Personality: Dusty has two rather distinct personalities, it honestly depends on when you talk to her. When Dusty finds herself without her Fix she is irritable and reckless, loud mouthed and paranoid. Everyone's out to get her, everyone wants what she's looking for. And she'll kill them for it. She would do anything to get rid of the itch under her skin and the pounding in the back of her skull. Rob people, beat the shit out of a lone NCR solider, burn down a farm. It doesn't matter as long as she gets what she wants. Once her needs are satisfied you see a very different Dusty. Relaxed and spontaneous, first one to suggest everyone tries wrestling Rad Roaches and hands out beers to the winners. When Dusty isn't craving she is more then happy to laze around in the sun, spooking trade caravans and exchanging stories with her friends.

Strengths: Her, well, strength is her biggest strength. She's also quick on her feet, quickly moving into battle and landing hits before her enemy even has time to pull out a weapon. Her quickness also translates into stealthiness. Dusty doesn't wear clunky armor, and knows how to move without making a sound. She excels in unarmed combat, her punches hurting just as much as any melee weapon. Dusty has survived on her own for a long time, so she is comfortable out in the wasteland. She is able to scavenge food and supplies from almost everywhere.

Weaknesses: Dusty is extremely addicted to several drugs, mostly Buffout and Hydra. As long as she has her fix she's fine, but as soon as her high starts to wear off things go wrong. She finds herself feeling nervous and jumpy. Irritable and impatient. Her hands always have a slight tremble to them, so shooting never goes well. Dusty also never learned skills involving reading or writing, and isn't particularly intelligent. Her illiteracy is actually rather embarrassing to her, and she hates when people points it out. Dusty also isn't much of a team player, especially with people she doesn't know or like. She is known to take advantage of people, and ditch them when she is bored of them.

Back-story: Dusty was born and raised on a small settlement, struggling to survive in the Wasteland. The settlement was several families, including Dusty's family, farming and working the land to something livable. It wasn't a bad life, it was dangerous but the whole world was dangerous. But this life wasn't for Dusty.

Dusty had always considered herself a good fighter, she was quick with her hands and quicker on her feet. Dusty never really thought she was providing anything to her families settlement or farm. Her siblings excelled at taking care of plants and animals, or building and fortifying. One of them even learned about medicine by reading, a skill she taught herself. Dusty was able to satisfy her desires to fight for a few years in her childhood by punching roaches and cutting wood. But it was never enough. Her family needed caps, but Dusty had no way to make caps, legitimately.

Dusty had heard of, in a nearby 'city', an underground boxing ring. Lots of Caps to be made, you just had to survive. Dusty was fifteen when she left home, promising to send caps back. She lied to the bouncer, saying she was eighteen. Not that the man minded, Dusty was gonna fight and make him some caps. It didn't matter how old she was, or how bad of a choice this was.

The first few fights were disasters. Her opponents were all much bigger and stronger then she was. But Dusty wasn't willing to give up. She trained daily, alone. One day, after a fight she nearly won, a man came up to her. He said he saw the potential in her, and offered to sponsor her. The jingling of caps in his pocket was enough to get her to sign on. Dusty continued her training, with the thought of the next prize egging her on. Her next fight, at age sixteen, was her first knock-out victory. She ate well that night, and even had cooled water.

Dusty was on a steady uphill, winning more and more fights and winning more and more caps. And as she became a more popular fighter she gained more perks from her sponsor. The perks of joining him were, besides the caps, a trail run of some drugs that might make her a better fighter. Dusty insisted that she would be fine without the drugs. But her next fight she nearly lost. After this near defeat Dusty grew worried that she wasn't getting any stronger, and took her first dose of Buffout.

The results were instant, Dusty felt great. And her sponsor even was willing to buy her her next few doses! Dusty's next few fights were a breeze. A dose of Buffout before each fight and a dose of Hydra after the fight to fix up her arms. But soon Dusty was taking Buffout in between fights, and Hydra whenever she was feeling a little achey. And then her sponsor stopped paying for her bad habit, but was willing to sell it to her for a discounted price. And she did.

Soon all of her winnings were going into Hydra and Buffout. She was barely scrapping enough winning money to buy her next dose. And she was getting angry. Dusty began to be sloppy with her drugs, and the owner of the Boxing ring discovered the discarded drug containers. She was quickly chased from town, with her supplier already off to find his next victim. Dusty had nowhere to go. She was 18 and had nothing but the Hydra and Buffout she was able to snag before she left. She had no reason to go home, her family likely assumed she was dead. All she knew was that she needed more of her stuff.

She met the Raiders a few months later, while she was scavenging through some of their territory. She was captured, and told she could earn her freedom if she could defeat their greatest in a contest of strength. Dusty had no trouble beating their warrior, and was allowed to join the Raiders, as they had control over most of the drug trade in the Wasteland. Dusty lived with the Raiders for several years, fighting everything she wanted and taking whatever she wanted. Bad habits got worse and Dusty found herself one of the leaders of the Raiders. She was feared by adventurers of their area, no one daring to enter their territory. Things were looking good.

That was until SOMEONE touched her stash.

And Dusty knew exactly who it was! That dirt bag who hit on her! Who thought he was top dog when the leader wasn't looking! And she knew exactly what to do to people who touched her stash! Hopped up on Buffout she marched up to him during a meal and snapped his neck with her hands. And as much as the Raiders loved swift and violent justice, the man was of higher rank. Dusty was chased out, for the second time in her life. This time Dusty had nowhere else to turn, constantly on the run. She had no issue with this, why stay with people if they are just gonna kick you out later. And lucky for her her stash was quite large, she had enough time to find some more product.

Dusty now wanders the wastes alone, showing no fear to any man or beast. She, in attempt to keep herself well supplied, often sells her services to weak looking settlers and wastelanders. But she rarely sticks around long enough to help them, instead leaving in the night after taking what she wants.

Other: Dusty is addicted to Buffout, Hydra and Psycho. Psycho and Buffout are her favorite "treats".

Fallout: Under Silver Skies [Closed]

I have a character sheet ready! Just gotta format it for this rp!

Fallout RP Interest Check

Fallout RP I was in has slowed down, count me in for this one!

Fallout: Apocalypse

Dusty watched in confusion as the EYE bot suddenly started acting really weird. She took a step away from it, anticipating it to explode. But it didn't immediately burst in the flames. Instead it began saying a lot of weird words that she didn't understand. FEV? Mutation? 97.3? Termination? What the fuck did that all mean?

The EYE bot them began to whirl, charging up some sort of weapon. Dusty watched with amazement as the EYE bot fired off its weapon. Laser Gun! Awesome. She laughed as the EYE Bot fired off towards were the man went. Her laughing showed that she didn't find the situation very dangerous.

But then the bot said a word that Dusty did know. A word that set fire to her veins. Combat. Oh how she loved combat. Dusty clenched her fists around her trusty knuckle dusters, her babies and her name sake. She howled out a battle cry as she slammed one of her fists into the metallic hull of the EYE bot.

"Yeah! Welcome to the combat zone! Bitch!"

Think before you act! Punch a robot! Fuck it!

Fallout: Apocalypse

<Snipped quote by Dragonbud>

The Eye bots rarely go back to the vault.

@Legion-114

Well dang there goes my idea on how to meet the dwellers. Oh well she's assuming the bot can find her drugs, because shes "super smart"

Fallout: Apocalypse

@Legion-114 if the Eye bot starts heading back to the vault Dustys gonna follow it.

Fallout: Apocalypse

Dusty didn't seem to care as the man walked away, she was far too busy getting the sand out of her shoe. Even as he rabbled on about Rad Storms or whatever she just yawned, the tiny waterfall of trapped sand now rejoining the ground. As he walked closer to her she happily flipped him off. Closer he got to her the better a fight would go. Good luck pointing a rifle in a melee range.

And as he began talking about her dying Dusty quickly, and rudely, cut him off with a wave of that same finger.

"Yeah yeah whatever old man, don't have a heart attack. Go eat your vitamins or whatever."

Once he was out of sight Dusty, without turning her back to where he had gone, looked back to the EYE Bot. She patted the robot on the side, enjoying the metallic clanking.

"Well, little buddy, how's about's you use that nifty little light of yours to lead me to some chems? If you do we can go about finding a way to patch you up! Hows that sound?"

She decided, that if the EYE bot was to move she would follow it to wherever it lead.