Name:Elayne King
Nickname: Laney, King
Race:Caucasian
Age:20
Physical Description:Elayne has a somewhat thin face with slightly gaunt cheeks. Her skin appears pale and her complexion fair. She sports mid-back length brunette locks that she tends to keep pulled back either sporting a partial braid or fully braided. Her eyes are a pale green with flecks of orange and brown. Standing at about 5 feet 6 inches tall, Elayne is of average build. Though, sporting only about 147 lbs of weight, she is actually quite lanky and can appear somewhat awkward.
((Please view Armor section for a sample photo of hair style.))Face Reference Bio:A stale wind blew through the expanse of the wastes, a slight bristle of damaged fur filling her ears from the tattered hood that rest on her shoulders. Her hands felt on her waist band for the canteen she carried and she raised it to her lips, taking a long calculated swig of purified water.
'Better than liquor, if ya ask me', she though to herself securing the lid and returning it to her belt. She took another step closer to the board, the kind that thriving towns would post notices of upcoming events on though, this one had seen much better days. In the center lie a small pile of papers, clinging to dear life under the blazing sun with the support or a single thumbtack. She smirked, thinking of how much hell the owner must have gone through to find a usable thumbtack, then immediately thought the owner foolish for trusting a thumbtack to the population and weather of the wastes. Her thoughts drifted to how this mystery person printed on paper to post on the board in the first place. Not just any person had those kind of resources available, after all.
She stepped closer, idly folding back the flap of her right gloves, revealing her slender fingers to the air. Slowly, she skimmed through the notice, thanking her time in the vault for the ability to read at all before reaching for an application. Standing alone in the arid wastes, she finds herself considering joining this group of mercenaries, this nameless group of potential allies. Memories of taking the G.O.A.T. in the vault fill her mind, that feeling of deflation upon hearing that she could either be the next Jukebox Technician or Tattoo Artist, either of which should have been considered a privilege. The tension weeks later when food stores were eliminated and the madness that ensued as slowly, vault dweller turned against vault dweller for food. She had been forced to grow up fast and fend for herself in a vault of developing cannibals. Of course there had been a select few that decided to leave the vault early on, but that decision was not without bloodshed of its own. There were only 12 of them left when she had decided to sneak out in the middle of the night. Who knew that with so many dead, it'd be so much easier to loot their possessions? A few months later, she would find herself on the New Vegas strip, her time as a prostitute blurred and dulled from an addiction to chems and alcohol. Those were the worst two years of her life, most of which she can't even remember.
And yet all things led her to this moment: a year of recovery from her addictions and fending for herself as a makeshift mercenary presented with a gift from whatever f-cked up, all knowing, sadistic being -- in the form of a sheet of paper. Calculatingly, she folded the paper, sliding it into the outside pocket of her jacket. She folded down the flap of her glove once more before pulling her hood up over deep brown locks and heading towards the Swooning Cazador in search of this Jacobson.
Weapon of Choice:Due to her petite frame, Elayne tends to favor small guns and light weight blunt weapons. She is as agile as she is lithe and has an uncanny way of getting out of close quarters encounters.
She is quite fond of her
.44 magnum and any blunt weapon she can find under 5 pounds. Anything more than that, and her girly arms are useless. Out of all the various blunt weapons she has encountered. Elayne favors the
baseball bat she carries on her backpack, slid into the two side straps for easy holstering.
Armor:Elayne sports a worn parka-esque coat, the fur trimming the hood nearly non existent. She carries a light weight leather heat with a small brim on her head, mostly to shield her eyes from the sun. Her pants are loose in the upper area and are tighter around her ankles, granting herself easier movements. She treads on combat boots and carries a large backpack on her back. If you pay enough attention, you'll also notice the pair of dogtags that hang from her neck beneath the coat.
