RoadRash

World of Darkness (Boston)

A note on my character; I picked several weapons due to the massive class gap between humans and....basically everything else. He'll only be carrying a few of those at any given time, and I'll be sure to list what he has on him, and when.

As for explosives, I'll be detailed about what he is and isn't carrying. He doesn't have a magical "bag-of-holding" that he'll be carting all of this in, and most of it will be stored in his camper at any given time, to avoid god-moding and other Tomfoolery.

World of Darkness (Boston)

Name: David Connally

Age: 34

Sex: Male

Skills

High firearms proficiency
Skilled in the manufacture and use of homemade explosives
Training in ambush tactics and booby-trapping
Basic first aid
Wilderness survival

Personality: As a result of his upbringing, David has taken great pains to distance himself from any form of hatred or bigotry. He’s laid-back to the point of being described as “stoner-esque” and has a tendency to just go with the flow of whatever is happening around him. Drinking beer, listening to music, and wrenching on his truck are his favorite pastimes, and he learned early on that the same mouth that used to regularly earn him “disciplinary workouts” and even outright beatings can instead be used to gain the trust and friendship of those he works with, sometimes with alarming speed.

Simply put, David is a nice guy. He laughs, he jokes, and he uses his soft Southern drawl to beguile the ladies when he isn’t busy trying to get a Vampire or a rogue Garou in his sights.

Bio

If asked, David would say that his father only ever gave him one birthday present; a Romanian surplus AK-47, chambered in 7.62 x 39mm and illegally modified for fully automatic fire.

He had just turned six.

David’s father, Joseph “Big Joe” Connally, was not a nice man. In fact, he was a hard, cruel, violent man, the self styled “Commandant” of the Arkansas Freemen’s Militia, a survivalist-minded civilian army with a hate-on for the U.S. government and a White Supremacist streak a mile wide.

The younger of Big Joe’s two sons, David was home schooled and raised on the Militia compound from birth. As an infant, he was little more than a mascot. By age five he was “playing pretend” with the older members, running around in little fatigues and shouting “Bang Bang” with plastic rifles. By ten he was considered a recruit, and by fifteen he had been given the rank of Private First Class, and was living and training full time with the other members of the compound. His early life was one of a Domestic Terrorist In Training; he performed daily PT sessions with the adults, honing his body to the peak of physical fitness, and learned to shoot, stab, and blow up anything that disagreed with his Radical Right-Wing mentality. Wilderness survival, bomb making, hasty ambushes; these were drilled into his head every day since he could remember, along with a healthy dose of racism and distrust for the Federal Government.

Though David had always secretly questioned his involvement in what his father called “The Movement”, things came to a head when young David was 14 years old. While at an anti-immigration rally, David was approached by a black man who asked a simple question.

“Why do you hate me?”

The rhetoric withered on David’s tongue as he truly considered the man’s question. Why did he hate? Because he’d been told to? Because his father, the man who ran him until he puked and beat him when he couldn’t keep up said it was the right thing to do?

The man nodded, and gave David his card.

“Call me when you have an answer. We’ll talk about it.”

The card identified the man as a Marcus Williams, a local pastor and anti-racism activist. After several days of painstaking research, David did call, and promptly had his facts, figures, and statistics shot down. Disheartened, he tried again a few days later, with the same result. This continued for several months, the phone calls gradually being replaced by face-to-face meetings, until an uneasy friendship had formed between the man of God and the young Militiaman. All of this resulted in David questioning and ultimately finding fault with the dogma that had been pounded into his head his entire life.

The months became years, the two maintained their clandestine meetings, and all the while David continued his tutelage under the Arkansas Freemen’s Militia, training for rebellion and planning acts of assassination and domestic terrorism that thankfully never occurred. He continued to hone his skills while also honing his mind, reading “non-approved” literature alongside such Neo-Nazi hits as Mein Kampf and The Turner Diaries, growing ever more distant from his father, his brother, and the rest of the Militia members living on the compound.

When David was 16, tragedy struck, and his life fell apart. His older brother, “Little Joe” Connally, was pulled over by the Arkansas highway patrol. Rather than surrender to Big Brother’s goons, Joseph Jr. instead left his truck, pulled a Glock 9mm from his waistband, and killed two highway patrol officers as they went about the routine of filing his ticket for an expired registration. A high speed chase ensued, and when Little Joe was finally cornered, he opened fire on the responding officers and was shot and killed.

Big Joe lost his mind. Convinced that the government had ordered his eldest son’s assassination, he went deep into hiding, secluding himself and several other Militia members in the Arkansas wilderness. David refused to accompany them, and instead packed his bags and set out on his own. Having nowhere else to turn, he sought out Marcus, who introduced him to the life of a Hunter.

Marcus took the young man under his wing, exposing him to the existence of true evil, and teaching him to combat it. It was from Marcus that he learned of the evils of the Vampire menace, and of the misunderstood and usually peaceful Garou. He taught him to use his skills for the good of humanity, and showed him that a warrior without compassion was as low as the monsters he was trying to destroy.

Now, 18 years later, David continues putting those lessons to use in his crusade against evil. Though Marcus died four years ago, the 34-year-old Hunter still remembers the lessons he was taught, and travels the country seeking out and destroying anything that threatens humankind as a whole.

Appearance:
5’11, 183 lbs of lean, toned muscle. No identifying tattoos, no major scars.

David

Equipment:

Ford F250 with Camper; Back seat hollowed out and converted into weapon storage

Springfield XD Subcompact .40S&W

Romanian AK47 with collapsible stock

Sawed Off Remington 870 with silver slug or Dragon’s Breath rounds

Toolbox

Ammunition Reloading Bench (in camper)

Sawed-Off Stevens Model 311 12gauge shotgun, loaded with wooden dowels

Condor Parang machete, with ¼ inch thick blade

Camper : Clothes, food, First Aid kit, Fire Extinguisher, etc. All of the necessities for surviving on the road.

3-inch Folding pocket knife, for utility purposes. Essentially useless as a weapon.

World of Darkness (Boston)

My Hunter is currently in development. With coffee for energy, moonshine for inspiration, and a day off tomorrow, I should have him up tonight.

Loki's Laugh

Woohoo! Saturday! Time to get drunk and write stuff!

Loki's Laugh

I'm going to bed soon. But this makes me laugh.

I'm hugging you with my brain. :D Welcome to adulthood! Hahahaha

Loki's Laugh

Hahaha just gotta hold it down, darlin'. You'll be okay. It's all part of the learning process ;)

Loki's Laugh

:D Hahaha D'aaaw. You make me smile

Loki's Laugh

YOU DRANK MOONSHINE?!

HAH! Yes! I love you! Hahahaha xD I have a quart in my room RIGHT NOW and another half-gallon on the way! :D

Loki's Laugh

HAH! You're drunk?! Isn't it awesome?! HAH! That's fucking great! Hahahaha xD

I'm so proud!

Loki's Laugh

Looks good Igraine. I dig it.

Also, Kuro...Your signature. I love it. That almost made me choke on my beer!