Half PintI'm back at home now! I should be able to get a post up after you, DPL.
Mr_pink Member
Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now
STATUS: Elope with me Miss Private and we'll drink ourselves awake 8 yrs ago
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8 yrs ago
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Elope with me Miss Private and we'll drink ourselves awake
10 yrs ago
Ah Nu Checki Brecki I v Damke
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Back at home, got a post up!
Around 6 years ago
Just outside the 'Imperiu' borders
The engine of the old motorbike purred like a lion as Sasha gripped the pistol in her small, slender thirteen year old hands. She aimed down the slide at a scarecrow, patterned with bullet holes and missing any crows to scare. She squeezed the trigger, the bullet firing out and skimming the scarecrows face before landing succinctly in the sand behind said scarecrow. She let the gun drop to her waist, still gripping it tightly in a mixture of anger and disappointment.
"I missed again" She bemoaned, spinning on her heel to face her father. Her father was a strange man with a strange past. He said very little to anyone, but his daughter, was practically never seen without his chaperon and goggles on and was a bloody history teacher before the world went to hell. Of course, his past life was kept a secret from the members of his tribe, such knowledge would only serve to make him appear weak.
"Don't fret, buttercup you're getting a lot better, almost took his head off with that one."Spoke her father in his usual monotone voice reminiscent of numerous librarians and teachers around the world pre-apocalypse. All of a sudden his head shot to the left like a bloodhound that had found it's prey. His eyebrows narrowed under his goggles and he quickly mounted his bike. "C'mon, sandstorms a-brewin'" Sasha scurried over to the bike as she was told to. Loyalty and naivety were a package deal.
Present day
The Big Nothing
Sasha peered through the dust covered binoculars, more akin to a telescope because of the massive crack that travelled down one of the lenses. She watched as one of the members of their makeshift 'alliance' arrived on scene, complete with obnoxious muscle car. She let her binoculars drop to her chest as she pushed herself up from the surprisingly cool sand and got onto her bike. She checked her guns, the tech 9 hung loosely at her side and the m1911 sat securely within her boot. She lowered her goggles over her eyes and revved the engine of her bike. She at least hoped the people in the alliance weren't anywhere near as mental as some of the people she'd met during her small time in the wastes.
Sand flew and spiralled in the air as, Sasha's bike bounded across dune after dune and sped through the desert known as the big nothing. Her torn and tattered gloves gripped the handlebar tightly as she slowed and skidded into the entrance of the snapped ship. She walked it into the ship, pushing her thin scarf up over her mouth to conceal her identity in combination with her goggles. Of course, her long, curly red hair was a dead give away to anyone who knew her previously. She held her submachine gun cautiously as she spoke to the man.
"You part of the alliance?"
Just outside the 'Imperiu' borders
The engine of the old motorbike purred like a lion as Sasha gripped the pistol in her small, slender thirteen year old hands. She aimed down the slide at a scarecrow, patterned with bullet holes and missing any crows to scare. She squeezed the trigger, the bullet firing out and skimming the scarecrows face before landing succinctly in the sand behind said scarecrow. She let the gun drop to her waist, still gripping it tightly in a mixture of anger and disappointment.
"I missed again" She bemoaned, spinning on her heel to face her father. Her father was a strange man with a strange past. He said very little to anyone, but his daughter, was practically never seen without his chaperon and goggles on and was a bloody history teacher before the world went to hell. Of course, his past life was kept a secret from the members of his tribe, such knowledge would only serve to make him appear weak.
"Don't fret, buttercup you're getting a lot better, almost took his head off with that one."Spoke her father in his usual monotone voice reminiscent of numerous librarians and teachers around the world pre-apocalypse. All of a sudden his head shot to the left like a bloodhound that had found it's prey. His eyebrows narrowed under his goggles and he quickly mounted his bike. "C'mon, sandstorms a-brewin'" Sasha scurried over to the bike as she was told to. Loyalty and naivety were a package deal.
Present day
The Big Nothing
Sasha peered through the dust covered binoculars, more akin to a telescope because of the massive crack that travelled down one of the lenses. She watched as one of the members of their makeshift 'alliance' arrived on scene, complete with obnoxious muscle car. She let her binoculars drop to her chest as she pushed herself up from the surprisingly cool sand and got onto her bike. She checked her guns, the tech 9 hung loosely at her side and the m1911 sat securely within her boot. She lowered her goggles over her eyes and revved the engine of her bike. She at least hoped the people in the alliance weren't anywhere near as mental as some of the people she'd met during her small time in the wastes.
Sand flew and spiralled in the air as, Sasha's bike bounded across dune after dune and sped through the desert known as the big nothing. Her torn and tattered gloves gripped the handlebar tightly as she slowed and skidded into the entrance of the snapped ship. She walked it into the ship, pushing her thin scarf up over her mouth to conceal her identity in combination with her goggles. Of course, her long, curly red hair was a dead give away to anyone who knew her previously. She held her submachine gun cautiously as she spoke to the man.
"You part of the alliance?"
Getting on my flight in about an hour, will be back home in about 5 or 6 hours so I should be able to get a post up today if I'm not too tired.
Still here! Will be getting on the flight in about an hour and my flight will take about 6 hours or so, so hopefully I'll be able to get a post up if I have stuff to respond to!
@Mr_pink
Hey would you be interested in having Sasha hiring Zahir to take out Scrotus?
I'm not entirely sure Sasha would have enough to barter with in order to hire him to be honest. Plus, she'll probably want to kill him herself for revenge.
Great! I may be able to get a post up tonight but if not then it'll probably be late tomorrow night or the day after.
Name: Sasha Thompson
Nickname: N/A
the job you had before the world went to hell: N/A
What you have become: Healer
your sanity: Completely sane, if a bit naive
Appearance: Sasha stands at 5 foot 4 and has a lightly muscular, but mostly skinny physique. Her skin is an alabaster pale, a stark contrast in some aspects to her dark crimson hair, that swoops down past her shoulders in waves. She is more often than not seen wearing her fathers old goggles, whether it be over her piercing cobalt blue eyes or around her slender neck.
Personality: Due to her extremely sheltered upbringing, Sasha is very naive and knows little about the wastes and it's horrors. She is able to handle herself in the wastes due to her training with her father, but gets a shock every now and then when a corpse appears out of nowhere.
History:
Sasha was born after the apocalypse, far south of the fury road. Her father was the leader of a tribe, and had been dubbed the 'Caeser of the wastes' for his democratic method of ruling. However, when it came to his daughter he was less democratic.
The entirety if Sasha's early life was spent within a repurposed basement, outfitted with defended so that nothing could get in or out. Of course, as time went on her father began teaching her about the wastes and how to survive within them. But it seemed her final lesson came too late.
Around the time that, Sasha was sixteen, Scrotus set his eyes on Caesers camp. With little defence in comparison to Scrotus' heavy attack force. Caeser stuck Sasha on his old bike and sent her out into the wastes. She left with a burning want for revenge.
It's been a few years since then, and Sasha is about 19 and is more than ready to extract her revenge.
Your ride: Her fathers old motorbike - imagine Steve Mcqueens bike in the great escape but soiled up a little.
Weapon of choice:
Sub machine guns - she uses an old and prone to jamming tech 9
Pistols - m1911
Specialty:
Ranged weapons
Crafting
Other:
@Mr_pink
Ok, so as not to bunny Ves's actions in my last post, I have El Sasquatcho grabbing her hand and starting to lead her elsewhere. If she doesn't have a mind to go, or is hesitant because of his excitable personality, I have no problems with our masked protagonist falling on his hairy ass trying to move an obviously stronger individual. Ole.
It's no problem! I'll probably wait until I get back home before writing a reply, so expect one late tomorrow if not the day after.
Think I finished my app, sorry if some I it doesn't make sense, I've been having to use my phone recently.
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