Sad Ogo

Lilith: A Fallout RP

Desire to shoot more grizzly bear sized wolves intensifies

Lilith: A Fallout RP

Our dearest GM wants us immersed in the lore so badly that they showed us a real life example of Ghoul prejudice. Bravo!

Lilith: A Fallout RP

There is some humour to be found in the fact that Thomas doesn't know a damn thing about plants. If he knew about carnivorous ones he might not compare them quite so favourably to New Vegas. xD

Also, I hope it's okay that I've given him a bedroll. I didn't think about it when creating his list of items and it didn't seem to make sense for him not to own one.

Lilith: A Fallout RP

Thomas "Judas" Kelly
Western Oregon, I-5, Northern Frontier

Thomas, like many times before, was thinking about the Mojave and specifically the Vegas area. It was his home. Almost everything, good and awful in his life, had happened to him in the ruins of that area. It being such a place of significance for him he often found himself deeply missing it in the times he’d wandered far off. Which for him wasn’t actually that often. As a mercenary he had never truly needed to. Vegas was bursting with work for a man such as him, and the turbulence caused by the war between the NCR and Legion had meant there was always plenty of work to be found in the Mojave too. If there was one thing the NCR had always lacked, it was the means or smarts to properly secure their territory. The holes in security they left were often filled in by mercs and the locals eager to pay them.

As such Thomas was now the furthest from Vegas he’d ever been and despite the nagging feeling of homesickness he was quietly happy in his choice to make the trip. Even walking up the I-10, his rifle in his arms and his eyes scanning possible ambush points among the rusted out vehicles on the road ahead.

He thought back to the night before. Never in his life had he seen such splendor. The Mojave had beauty if you looked for it, but the amazing sights he’d seen recently on this trip didn’t need to be found or thought about. They displayed themselves as self-evidently beautiful. Plants and trees of wondrous green colours, some of which quite literally glowed at night. All his years in the Mojave and the closest thing he’d ever seen to such a thing was the man-made lights of New Vegas. Those lights and sights he couldn’t appreciate in nearly the same way. For where this natural beauty asked nothing of humanity for its presence, Vegas asked for everything. An industry and vision man designed to act as a makeshift siren, the like of which he’d read of in the Odyssey.

The day before they had stopped in Klamath. A community bustling with generations of hunters and trappers. These folk knew a thing or two about their trade and Thomas had thoroughly enjoyed conversing with them on topics such as the local wildlife and terrain. He’d been quite easily persuaded to buy some of their hand-loaded hot rounds, especially after being told of the size and tenacity of some of the beasts further north. Of which he’d never even heard tell of back down south. As such his go to big-game gun, the Glock 29 tucked into its holster on the small of his back was now loaded up with +P 10mm rounds. A few well placed shots with those would be enough to drop a Bighorner Bull, as was the intent. He also couldn’t help but buy a small tub of coffee as soon as he heard tell of it in the general store. The lady asked a damn near extortionate price but he couldn’t help himself. He’d fallen in love with it over the years.

Eventually Dr. Sadeghi called out for them to follow her down a trail so they could set up camp for the night. Thomas was personally grateful, even as young as he was, the trek had been a tiring one. His calf muscles were threatening to cramp and his hold of the rifle had gotten a tad lazy, threatening to simply let it hang by its sling. He dragged himself out of his thoughts and followed their leaders instructions, forcing himself to tighten his grip on the rifle and focus on their surroundings. Thankfully the place seemed to be clear and they got to work. Thomas found himself a comfortable looking place for his bedroll and laid it down. He then spent about an hour helping gather some wood for a fire and set up a pot of water to boil, hoping for a cup of coffee. He thought about going over and offering the doc a cup, she’d more than earned one after spearheading their expedition. As he glanced over though he noticed a familiar draw to her face, one that to him seemed to betray thoughts and emotions he often felt himself. Whether he was simply projecting or not immediately became irrelevant. He didn’t have the emotional intellect or confidence to pull her away from whatever it was. He would ask later instead.

As time went on and darkness fell he wearily unclipped his armour and unslung his rifle. He would have liked to keep both on but they were impossible to comfortably lay in. He’d wake up with a back throbbing with pain for the next week. As it was, the risk was worth a good few hours of sleep. Laying the armour pieces and his rifle down next to his bed he climbed onto it himself, taking his Glock out of it’s holster and resting it on his chest, his hat covering it. It was a habit that had saved his life more than once. Slowly, when thoughts finally quit barrelling at him one after the other, he drifted off to sleep.

---

He awoke frightfully to the yelling of the doc, his hand immediately tightening around the grip of his handgun. He shot up, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes, switching the handgun from safe to ready to fire and moving with haste towards the docs side and closer to the fearsome sounding growls. He made sure not to look directly at any of the various light sources on his way over. He knew for sure he’d need some night vision for this. Staring off into the dark he spotted more than a few sets of four yellow eyes, way too far off the ground for his comfort. Raising his handgun up he got into the Chapman stance. Such a stance that would help with the heavy recoil of the +P rounds.

Aiming between four glowing eyes he squeezed the trigger, once, twice, three times. The boom of the handgun echoed explosively in their surroundings. The beast stumbled with a pained whine and dropped, it’s bright eyes falling off into the darkness. Quickly turning again he found another glowing target and corrected his stance and aim, once again squeezing to the sound of a boom followed by a whine.

“Six more rounds before reload”. He thought, hoping that his companions were decent shots.

Lilith: A Fallout RP

No worries mate, I'll make sure Thomas remains a horrific cook so your dude is still needed. :P

Lilith: A Fallout RP

From what I recall reading through the accepted character sheets mine is the only one that explicitly mentioned hunting and cooking thus far and it's definitely not a speciality. If that's the character ya want I'd go for it. Otherwise the crew might end up relying on Thomas and then we'll all be dead before our first fight. xD

Lilith: A Fallout RP

We currently have two sharpshooters. Dr Sadeghi and Gail Avery both seem to favour their sniping. My character can hunt but he's certainly no specialist and tends towards purchasing food with the money he makes off of merc contracts. His tribe was wiped out before he learned nearly as much as he could have so his hunting and cooking skills aren't so sharp.

I personally think the hunter/cook idea is a unique and interesting one! It'll probably be much needed to survive and thrive too on a long journey.

Lilith: A Fallout RP

If anybody's character has spent a fair amount of time in the Vegas/Freeside area it's possible they've run into or even worked with Thomas in the past. If you're interested in our characters having something of a past relationship PM me and we can discuss it.

Assuming Su doesn't want everyone to be completely fresh acquaintances anyway. If that's the case, forget I said anything.

Lilith: A Fallout RP

Since Dr. Sadeghi's also team leader we'll probably need at least one more proficient medic for ideal circumstances. If we find ourselves in an intense firefight and someone goes down it'd be extremely difficult for her to both focus on small unit tactics and give first aid.

Lilith: A Fallout RP

Thomas "Judas" Kelly

Thomas 'Judas' Kelly

Hired Killer/Weapons Expert

Personal Stats

Age and Date of Birth:

24 - July 21st, 2260

Gender:

Male

Species:

Human

Profession:

Freelance Merc

Psychological History

Motivations and Outlook: Thomas is a man who if given the chance to grow up anywhere or any way other than the place and way he did he would almost certainly be someone else altogether. He was always a little too thoughtful and soft for his circumstances. In his teens he always seemed to feel more guilt and trepidation than his peers about the things they did to survive. This was made worse by his knack for the crap that made him feel so conflicted inside. When pushed to a fist or gunfight he was quick and brutal and for someone who had little other prospects or talent, being so good at something made him almost proud. Proud but also ashamed.

This conflict is one of the primary driving forces of who he is today. A man who is only really skilled at things that make him dislike himself. He has a sense of rightness that often conflicts with what he does for a living and this more than anything else has brought him misery and misfortune throughout his life.

A thoughtful, quiet and generous seeming man who finds what little solace he can in the rare books he manages to get his hands on. Few employers expect to meet the man they do when they hear tell of the bloodbaths he has left behind. It doesn’t take much of a trained eye for folk to see that this man isn’t who he wants to be.

Backstory: Thomas was born and dragged up in Vegas and the surrounding area, the son of a local tribe whose people moved in and around Vegas. They relied on their freedom of movement to both hunt game and protect against raids from rival tribes. The entirety of his life has been spent in conflict of varied intensity. From occasional skirmishes to full on genocide.

Despite this his early life was one of relatively good fortune. Unlike a great many people he had two loving parents who protected him and taught him things of import. Being in such a violent landscape this included combat training from a very early age. Enemies would attempt to kidnap or kill the children of the tribe in order to weaken them and make them easier to exploit down the line. As such personal and group defense was paramount. Despite this life of near constant brutality there was also beauty and camaraderie in the tribe. Stories were told of great hunts and battles. Stories of shared victory and loss. They were close knit and one person's woes were felt by them all.

That all ended for Thomas just as he hit his teens, when Mr. House awakened from hibernation and began pushing tribes out of Vegas. He ignited a level of warfare that even battle-hardened clans such as Thomas’ hadn’t ever seen before. They survived for a year or two, fighting off more enemies in those two years than they had in the entire previous decade. Sadly they lost a large amount of their number, including Thomas’ father. When three large rival tribes formed an alliance to wipe the rest of them out they stood no chance. Too proud to flee, every man, woman and most of the teens were killed in battle or captured and executed not too long after. What few children and teenagers remained were taken under the protection of The Followers of Apocalypse. They had arrived two years previously and maintained a presence due to N.C.R protection. Thomas and many other war survivors were kept safeguarded and fed in the Old Mormon Fort.

Thus began a new chapter in Thomas’ life. Under the temporary protection of the F.O.A he was taught to read and count, the former he grew to love upon his introduction to written stories. His favourites were the ones with heroes. Their values often reminded him of those of the tribe and solidified in him a desire to hold to a personal creed.

His time with the F.O.A unfortunately didn’t last too long. The alliance between them and the N.C.R fractured and eventually broke and with it went a lot of their resources and manpower. With heavy hearts they were forced to begin rationing their aid. More and more war refugees were going to them for help, many of them very young and so those not in immediate danger or who were just old enough to possibly survive on their own like Thomas had to leave to make way for those who surely wouldn’t.

Finding himself back in the middle of an active war zone with few skills aside from fighting and reading he did the only thing he could think of to survive. He joined a gang. He wanted to join the merc group the F.O.A had hired to go out and rescue refugees but to them he was still an untested kid. With no reputation and being barely fifteen years old there wasn’t a single local merc group that would take him on. The gangs had no such reservations.

The following several years laid a brutal pattern of violence, attempted companionship and betrayal. At this point Thomas had no real problem with killing and looting as long as it didn’t feel incredibly wrong or unjust. Vegas was still dog eat dog and those who couldn’t defend themselves and kill their enemies either found protection or died quickly. It seemed every gang he fell in with though ultimately asked him to do something he couldn’t. Kill a child or a defenseless parent. Force people into slavery. Cannibalism... Every time he felt like he might have found a new clan he had some sort of morality-related falling out and at best had to go his own way. Usually though such a rejection was seen as a betrayal of the gang and he was forced to kill his former crew or let them kill him. He was lonely but never suicidal, and due to his time facing vastly superior numbers as a tribal he knew how to survive against smaller gangs, especially since he was usually among their better killers.

Unfortunately for quite some time it was damn near impossible to survive in Vegas without being in a faction so this pattern repeated itself over and over again. Eventually Thomas was forced to kill a lover who felt he’d betrayed her when he decided to leave the gang over its rampant chem-use and dealing, and the evermore cruel things they were doing to get and supply them. That was it for him. He decided he’d go freelance and risk death instead of having to murder another person or group he had feelings for. Thankfully by this time Thomas had aged to 19 and had some renown in Vegas for being a sole-survivor and extremely proficient killer. Most factions wouldn’t take him on even if he was interested but most everyone would give him odd-jobs that they didn’t want or couldn’t do. He found this suited him, as he could pick which contracts to accept or refuse based on his own feelings and didn’t usually have to kill when he didn’t want to.

As the years went on he tried his best to take only contracts that would be ultimately good and what he could consider moral. This made the Followers of Apocalypse his all-time favourite employers. When they asked, he rarely refused.

Flaws:

Uncharismatic: Thomas was never much of a talker. Having to kill so many of the people he was actually social with sure didn’t help. Neither does his reputation for killing former comrades in the Vegas area.

Distrustful: Having seen the terrible things people will do for greed, hunger, lust or even on a whim Thomas finds it increasingly difficult to trust people. He doesn’t let people in easily and in turn this makes people distrust him right back.

Survivors Guilt: Thomas is wracked by constant guilt about the people who’ve died in order for him to live. This is made worse by his perception of himself. A man who only takes. Only destroys.

Relationships and Reputation:

New Vegas: Thomas is a renowned mercenary in the New Vegas area. Known for being determined, skilled, professional and often taking on jobs for far less than he’s worth if he likes the cause. Something he jokingly refers to as “charity work”. On the flip side many still remember him as a friend-killer, with many people whispering Judas behind his back. No one has ever said it to his face and lived however, which somewhat perpetuates the nickname.

Opinions on Team: Not yet applicable.

Skills and Equipment

Skills:

Experienced and skilled close to mid-range combatant.

Familiar with most long guns and handguns. If it shoots bullets Thomas probably knows how to use and maintain it.

Talented with both a knife and his fists. He spent most of his childhood training and has since had near constant experience.

Scouting and recon. Extremely patient and pretty perceptive. Comes with being a merc.

Very physically resilient. He has a lot of scars from building this up and usually knows when he can keep fighting and when he needs to rest.

Combat composure. His whole life has been war. At this point he’s more disturbed outside of combat because that’s when his mental issues trouble him.

Knows how to track and kill an animal. Also knows how to skin and cook one. Was a tribal before he was a mercenary after all.

Very basic first aid. Doesn’t know much, but enough to give a wound some attention.


Equipment

Weapons:

- Primary: 556. M4-Carbine
- Secondary: 9mm SIG Sauer P226 and a 10mm Glock 29
- Melee: Fixed Blade Knife

Armor/Clothes:

Leather Hat
Black T-Shirt
Green Cargo Pants
Dark Brown Hiking Boots

Green Combat Armor
Ammo Pouches
Back and Hip Pistol Holsters
Sling for Rifle
Bedroll
Leather Courier Bag

Personal belongings:

Two Novels
Journal
1 Pen and 2 Pencils
Canteen
Wrapped up cooked Gecko Meat
Small tub of coffee
1 Med-X
2 Stim-Paks
Small can of oil
Oil rag
Screwdriver
150 Caps in a pouch
$300 in NCR Currency