Characters

Name: Hack saw
age: 23
sex: male
race: human
height: 6.4
weight: 190 lbs
heir: bald
eyes:brown
skin colure:tanned

appearance: all driast in black with leather armor and a long black trench cote. tatood all down both arms back and a tribal on the side of his head

weapons: two 9mm Barrrettes holstered on his belt. Two 9mm sig-sauer's holstered in shoulder holsters an Ak 47 strapped to his back and two razor sharp punch daggers firmly secured in his belt buckle.

equipment: two water canteens a copal of water chips ammo two stimpaks and fore golden gecko pelts all in an old black doctors bag

occupation: drifter and mercenary for hire
 
Born of Cane, i don't want to sound too harsh, but you might want to use the handy dandy spell checker before you post. As your spelling is the 6th grade level, and needs a lot of improvement.



Cheers Thorgrimm
 
Name: Sir Joshua Grout
Age: 39
Race: Human
Skin colour: Very pale
Hair: Dark brown short hair with center parting, brown kitchener moustache
Inventory: Gold stopwatch, Fancy black suit and tie, Finely crafted revolver, Mechanical Arachnid named Folstrom.

Sir Joshua is a mysterious man residing in his tower just outside Tarant. He is incredibly rich, and well educated. Thats about as far as it goes on the subject of what people know about him. It is a rare occurence that he leaves his tower, and when so, he is usually obscured by his two ogre henchman.
 
Very late reply.

Ya i know i don really pay attention to the text. :oops: :lol:

And I think the chips are just there for the sake of being there. You never know when your going too need water chips. :lol:
 
I bet it costed you a lot to find the water chip in FO1. So now you always carry one, just in case... :wink:
 
Name: Cadian
Age: unknown (believed to be 20)
Sex: Male
Race: Human -psyker
Nationality: American
Height: 5'6''
Weight: 183 .lbs
Hair: platinum blonde
Eyes: Bloodshot yellow
Place of Birth: American southeast
Date of Birth: Unknown
Alignment: Lawful neutral
Appearance: a slim average sized man whose nose and mouth is covered with a oxygen mask, the tube leading to a small tank of psychoactive drug, which is required for him to continue living. his complextion is almost as pale as a ghost which burns easily in the sun. This has caused him to be covered in thick brahma hide robe and wear vault-tec issue goggles when outdoors during the day. his thin platinum blonde hair reaches down to his chin but is kept very tidy. His frail yet slightly built body deceives the almost unhuman agility it can give. His bloodshot eyes when stared at almost seems to carve into a person and slowly dismantle their soul. To even further the addition to his frightful appearence, his smile can be quite wide and distrubing.
PRIMARY STATS
ST- 5 (average)
PE-10 (heroic)
EN- 4 (bad)
CH- 3 (poor)
IN- 6(very good)
AG- 9(excellent)
LK- 4 (okay)
TRAITS
- finesse
- chemical reliant
Perks
-Earlier Sequence
-Silent Running
-Dodger (2)
SKILLS (TAGGED) Best at
-Small Guns
-Melee
-Sneak
-Speech
ARMOR
-Leather Armor hidden over a cloak. also wears a black denim pants and black boots.
WEAPON IN POSSESSION
- .223 hunting rifle
-Shiv x 3
-zipgun
ITEMS AND KEEP SAKES:
-5 9mm bullets
-Bag
-230 Caps
-Good ol' pocket compass
-two boxes of .223
-Vault-tec goggles
-Several canisters of psychoactive drug
-water canteen
-several sticks of jerky
Bio:
For every good, there's an evil. Born underground in american southeast, in a rather big vault designated Vault 106. The vault contained neverending ventilation of psychoactive drugs. He adapted to such harsh conditions that his body is now required to breathe the drug daily or will suffocate. He was born with the gift of empathy and foresight, being able to stare at a person and see how they truly are. At a young age, his vault was attacked by raiders and was a slave for 4 years. this gave him a supreme hatred towards outsiders but keeps it hidden when such people are present to whatever his aim is. he disappeared off of the face of the earth after escaping his slaver.

After several years, he suddenly appeared back to the public eye, slaughtering people at complete random with little conscious thought of it. His last murder forcing to head west, where he will meet his destiny.

[Edit] Alright i've changed it after noticing several mistakes and made him better suited for his part. This character is for the Wasteland rp.
 
I thought I’d better draw up a main character for use in storylines and post a background and equipment list which can be updated at later points.

((If the name or any other details appear too similar to another member’s character please notify me so I can alter them, don’t want a character which is too similar or even identical to another’s.))

Character Name: Vincent North
Age: Early Thirties
Race: Human
Height: 6’0”
Weight: 180 lbs
Hair: Dark brown, greying at the temples.
Eyes: Hazel
Sex: Male

Appearance: Standing at a solid six feet, Vincent, although not large, is leanly muscled with a very low amount of body-fat. His hair is cut short, in a business-like way and it greying at the temples, maybe from a lifetime of stress or perhaps as an adverse result from radiation exposure. From the waist down he is dressed in faded blue Levi’s over dusty black calf-height boots. Above the waist he wears urban camouflage body armour, complete with shoulder and neck extensions. Over the lot he wears a faded black duster hanging a good six inches from the ground.

His face appears weathered and experienced, heavily lined from a lifetime outdoors and perhaps lends him the look of a man his senior. He walks with a very slight limp due to an old knee injury, but is usually not noticeable unless he is sprinting for cover or the like.

Background: Vincent’s childhood and upbringing are as yet undisclosed and maybe never will be, this guy sure likes to play his cards close to his chest at most times. However it is known he has previously worked in a bodyguard capacity and has taken work guarding caravans across the wastes like a lot of young able-bodied men.

Skills: Vincent is of average intelligence, sometimes quick-witted in conversation and fast to act in a combat situation, one would have to be to stay alive in this world anyway. Reasonably competent in small arms use and has been in his fair share of bar-room brawls.

Favoured Weapons: Considered a good shot with a pistol or shotgun, Vincent prefers medium to short range engagements with firearms and is inexperienced in the use of fully-automatic weapons, preferring his trusted forty-five in a fire-fight.

Equipment:

Clothes as above

Leather belt with holster hanging on right thigh and double pistol
magazine holster on his left hip

Well-worn rucksack to carry various items listed below:

+Two water canteens
+Rusted Zippo lighter
+Length of rope
+Half-full Box of forty-five ammunition
+Handgun care kit, containing gun oil, brushes and various other items

In the holster

+1 black Colt 1911 with custom trigger, chequered grips, bored chambers and custom slide amongst other modifications. A classic yet, contemporary weapon for a modern gunfighter.
+3 single stack ammunition clips for said weapon each containing seven rounds of forty-five. One mag in the pistol, two in the holster.
 
Hope I'm doing this in the right order. Seems like a good point to thrash a character out, anyhow.

Chr Name: Dave Angel
Age: Late Thirties
Race: Human (of Vault antecedant stock)
Height: 6' ish
Weight: Blegh. Slight build for the height.
Hair: Thinning, mousy (radiation exposure does little for the barnet)
Eyes: Yes
Sex: Male

If this were a straight D&D game, this guy would be an out-and-out thief. That is as far as comparisions with the fantasy genre will go, though. If you have seen the epic film adaptation of The Stand and know what I mean by Matt Frewer in the role of the Trashcan Man, you have your perfect portrait of Dave Angel.

Dave is no pyromaniac loony, though. No. Although one too many rads have made him a little zany. He is an experienced wastelander. The secrets of his success (ie: managing not to end up like the you-have-died screen in Fallout) lie in the various like-minded contacts he has throughout the settlements of the local waste, and in his own ingenious arsenal of tools and gadgets he carries at all times (this I would like to flesh out as time goes on).

Onto the inventory:

1 x large olive drab rucksack
1 x belt w/ bandolier-style cartridge loops. Supports leather thong for water canteen.
1 x large holster

1 x 44. magnum revolver (holstered)
2 x 12 capacity boxes of ammunition for same
1 x navigational compass
1 x extensive wallet of small files and lockpicks
1 x 4 pint brass water canteen (not Vault issue!)
1 x canvas sack beef jerky
1 x crusty, half used pack Rad-Away
1 x combat knife (excellent condition)
1 x kit containing whetstone, oils and various other tools for maintaining simple firearms and other metal tools, itself contained in an old biscuit tin.
1 x claw hammer
1 x small, but powerful, pair binoculars
1 x fold-out, ex-military small shovel
10' nylon rope
1 x pair heavy duty suede work-gloves (of gauntlet length)
1 x crowbar
1 x polished mirror
bag 216 bottlecaps
 
Char Name: Trevor
Age: 20
Race: Human
Height: 6'2''
Weight: 185
Hair: Black
Eyes: Black
Sex: Male

General Appearance:
His deathly pale body against his dark black hair appears even more deathly pale, to the point where he sometimes seems to glow in bright moon light. Hisblack eyes often give away his emotions, so he keeps them hidden behind tinted welders goggles.

Trevor dosen't really remember much of anything about his past. He dosen't know where he's from or where he really is as it seems his memory has been wiped clean. He desperately wants to know who he was and where he's from, but with no clues to go on he just wanders the wastes, taking a cold, pragmatic view of life, hoping that logic may eventually unveil his past.

His personality thus is torn, between his harsh bottom line thinking of the present, and what may be a glimmer of the past -- a high and mighty moralistic attitude that always bends him to do what most would see as 'right.' Something compels him to help those he meets, even at his own expense. Although his past is missing, he is as outgoing as he can be. He does his best to learn everything he can from everyone and everything he comes by.

Health wise, he dances around a thin line between, being extrordinarily healthy and being in shambles -- generally prolonged physical activity or combat makes him almost fall apart as he suffers from audio/visual hallucinations, tremors, and violent hemmoraging.

When it comes to combat and survival, Trevor's bottom line thinking and high intelligence helps him come out on top. He uses his SKS as a sniper rifle (which he is pretty competant with) and his two MP5k's as versitile pistols, using the 30 round clips he has for them when outnumbered and in need of a spray and pray.

His unbalanced metabolism lets him work as well as others with much less food and drink. However, when he is recovering from a bout of physical deterioration, his body demands more sustenance than the average person.

Equipment:
- SKS modified with scope (acts as a decent sniper rifle)
- 4x 10 round stripper clips
- 2x 20 round boxes of 7.62x39mm
- 2x Mp5k submachine guns
- 5x 15 round clips for mp5k
- 2x 30 round clips for mp5k
- 5x 30 round boxes of 9x19mm
- 3x ancient fragmentation grenades (he's not sure if they will work)
- 3x MREs and 2 litres of water.
- 1x combat knife
- 1x Back Pack to carry his ammo/food
- 2x holsters for the Mp5k's

Stats:

Strength: 4
Perception: 8
Endurance: 4
Charisma: 8
Intelligence: 10
Agility: 9
Luck: 5

Traits:
Gifted
Small frame
 
Name: Joshua Uziel Fastrin
Age: 18
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Nationality: American
Height: 5'10''
Weight: 185 .lbs
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Brown
Place of Birth: Vault 34
Date of Birth: Unknown
Alignment: True Neutral (Depends on the situation really)
Appearance: Tall, thin, and dirty. Very jewish appearance with the brown hair, eyes, and large nose. There is a slight imprink on his cheek from using his gun a bit too much. He has raven feet and is usually sunburnt or tanned. Wears camoflague for obvious reasons. Has a scar going from the side of his belly button to his upper chest. He keeps his hair tied or gelled back to prevent it from getting into his eyes. Wears a bandana which he usually keeps moist to keep cool.


PRIMARY STATS
ST- 8

PE-10 (heroic)

EN- 6 (Good)

CH- 5 (average)

IN- 7 (V. Good)

AG-8

LK- 2 (Bad)


TRAITS
- Gifted
- Skilled


SKILLS (TAGGED) Best at
-Small Guns
-First Aid
-Outdoorsman
-Melee




ARMOR
-Camoflague clothing

WEAPON IN POSSESSION
- Scoped hunting rifle
-Sharp hunting knife
-10 mm pistol

ITEMS AND KEEP SAKES:
-20 9mm bullets
-Bag
-20 Caps
-Picture of his parents and the Vault he came from
-Torah
-two boxes of .223 ((<--I do too have ammo!))
-Vault-tec canteen
-Several stimpacks
-Unidentifiable food

Bio: Parents came from Vault 34 with several weapons salvaged from the vault. They lived on a farm for a while when they moved not too far from Junktown. His parents were killed in a raid so meanwhile he has run the Molerat farm, feeding them dead raiders he's sniped down. He's an excellent sniper and no too shabby with a knife and has been trained in First Aid.
 
From Scrapper-


Character Bio: Dash Cooper

Age: 25
Sex: male
Height: 1.83m, approximately 6'
Weight: 75kg, approximately 165lbs
Eye color: blue
Hair color: black
Hair length: Lengthy, to neck
Build: athletic
Tattoos: None
Scars: several bullet and laceration scars on chest and back, a few faint scars on face

General Statistics:

ST: 6
PE: 7
EN: 8
CH: 6
IN: 7
AG: 7
LK: 4

Experience:

-Technician-rated in Vault-Tec systems and machinery
-Completed standard Vault security combat training
-Additional combat training in Aikido and Krav Maga virtual opponent simulations
-Five years experience living outside the vault, proficient in wilderness survival and agriculture
-Some combat experience dealing with raiders, gangs, and assorted human riffraff, but for the most part has only dealt with wild animals

Background:

Born into the prosperous community of Vault 8 (later known as Vault City), Dash's life had a much better outlook than most people in the wasteland. He was afforded regular meals, education, and the safety of living inside one of California's most advanced security grids. Everything looked promising for Dash as he joined the ranks of the new city's security force; he was even engaged to the daughter of a well-respected medical officer.

But Dash's future of blissful ignorance about the outside world was changed when refugees began to arrive at Vault City's doorstep. In their years of isolation, Vault City's community had grown xenophobic and fearful of outsiders. The refugees were accepted at first, reluctantly, but after several instances of communicable diseases being transmitted to Vault City citizens, the outsiders became social pariahs. Dash, however, had come to know several of the outsiders through the course of his guard duties, befriending several of them. The stories they told of adventure in the harsh wilderness enamored Dash with a sense of longing to see the outside world. He volunteered for scouting missions, trying to see beyond the city walls, but never managed to get beyond a few kilometers past the city limits. He realized then that he was trapped in the same place he had called home.

Trapped or not, it was still home. He had a career, a purpose, and a family to think about.

While he dreamed about the outside, tensions began to rise between the outsiders and the citizens. Eventually, violence broke out after several outsiders tried to scale the walls of the city. On duty at the time, Dash was ordered to fire upon the outsiders, and upon refusing he earned himself a discharge from the security force. He was placed in solitary confinement within the lower levels of the vault for several weeks after the incident, where after much deliberation, he decided to study as much information on wilderness survival and agriculture as possible. He knew that Vault City was no longer his home, and he wanted to be prepared for when he would leave. It wasn't long after his release that he gathered necessary equipment and slipped out of the city in the middle of the night. He never looked back.

For the next five years, Dash went on to make an existence for himself living in relative seclusion. He went south, drifting from town to town doing odd jobs in exchange for food and shelter. His travels eventually took him to the Hub, in the aftermath of a horrific battle between two heavily armed forces.
 
Down in Mexico Character Submission

For Down in Mexico RPG

Name-
"Guard"

Physical appearance-

Height: 6'0"
Hair: Dirty Blonde - cut unfashionably short
Eyes: Opaline Green
Build: Medium, toned
Age: Early-Thirties

Background-

Guard has been working as a caravan guard for the past few months, working his way South across the States, or what's left of them.

He doesn't consider himself in his thirties, in fact, as far as he's concerned he's less than a year old. Confused? So was he when he woke up in the desert, stark naked, his hair streaked with blood from a serious head-wound. His only distinguishing feature was a tattoo on his left forearm. The Tattoo read "South", nothing more, nothing less. Just "South".

He was discovered by a caravan. The guards stitched him up and gave him some clothes and a gun in return for him performing menial tasks, feeding the animals, digging the wagons out the sand and so on. On that first day they christened him "Slave".

Two days in they were ambushed by a substantial group of raiders. Slave's shooting was good enough to help turn the tide of the battle, perhaps saving the caravan from pillage.

His comrades, suitably impressed renamed him "Guard" and took him under their collective wing. Arriving at his first destination he looked for clues, anything relating to who he was or where he had come from. Noone had the answers, or certainly weren't willing to part with such information for free so he moved on, travelling from town to town with the caravans.

Six months on and he's still no closer to figuring out who he is. The only thing he's closer to is the border. All he has is the tattoo, his only clue to his past, and perhaps his future.

Gear-

He carries a Mauser 9mm, a 'gift' from the guards of his first Caravan, holstered in a cross draw rig hanging across his left hip. He's wearing a faded pair of black jeans over generic boots. Up top he's sporting a well worn, brown leather jacket over a red shirt, stained slightly yellow from the desert.

Edit: He recently picked up a Hunting Rifle from a dead soldier in the Hub and a rucksack containing some stimpacks, a grenade and extra clips of .223 FMJ ammunition.

Notes-

Guard is loosely based on the character 'soldier' from Kim Hunter's book "A Knight's Dawn" in case anyone notices the vague similarities between the characters. The majority of the chracter is my own however.
 
NOTE: This character has been edited and therefore has changed. Is a rather different character than the original. The changes taken place before the appearance of this character in the IC thread.

Name: Jack
Full name: Jack “Bull” Shaw (Only his close friends call him Bull)
Faction: BOS
Rank: Knight
Age: 28
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Hair: Short black
Eyes: Dark brown
Skin: White
Height: 1. 85 Meters
Weight: 93 Kilograms
Build: Bulky, large.
Distinctive facial characteristics: Thick eyebrows and a never smiling face, the few times he manages to smile only makes a half smile.

Stats:

Strength: 08
Perception: 08
Endurance: 07
Charisma: 07
Intelligence: 07
Agility: 06
Luck: 04

Perks: Gifted, Heavy handed.
Traits: Awareness, Scout, Presence.

Tag skills: Small weapons, Big weapons, Outdoorsman

Brief background:

Brother Jack was interested in weapons from day one. He liked weapons so much that it was hard for him the decision of choosing between study them as a Scribe or make them as a Knight, finally he decided to be a knight, that way he would get more chances to go out and actually use weapons. Another distinctive thing about Jack is that he always liked going on patrol perhaps too much, that may have been the reason that leaded him to follow Major Max in his adventure. His mood is not known for being a good one, but he is the best friend you can have during a battle.
 
Name-
Eduardo Frederick Haphnic Jr. (But his old friends called him "Lucky")

Physical appearence-
Height- Five feet two inches
Hair- Greasy black
Eyes-Dark brown
Build- Farmer muscled, lean
Age- Twenty four

Description/Background-Eduardo is a farmer owning a small plot of land on the western outskirts of the Hub, and farms a meager living from the dead acre or two he calls his own. He is comically short and lean with dark tanned skin, and a mild spanish appearence. He has the stringy muscle associated with farmers, and a bandito mustache one might expect to see on the villian of a western movie.

Eduardo's past starts from the time he can remember being five or ten he wandered away from his caravan, but by the whim of some strange deity he found a dog in the middle of the wastes with one eye and a terrible limp. He rode it like a pony all the way back to his caravan where the guards chased it away and returned him to his family.

When the caravan arrived at a small town they set to starting a brahmin farm. This is when the pendulum of Eduardo's luck started. His father was Germanic of decent and wanted a ranch while his mother was Spanish and wanted a farm. The argued until one day they decided for both. Things went well as Eduardo grew up making friends and learning how to work hard and live like an honest man. The only oddity was his luck. As he was young he would always be finding small coins or treasures along with general good happenings,but at the same time he was always tripping and falling or stubbing his toes. Because of these strange happenings(sometimes downright odd) he was nicknamed "Lucky".

One day after he had married his brahmin spontaneously exploded. His wife left him because he could no longer support her, and he was forced to move away. He vowed to win her back and moved to the Hub where he started his farm. He did poorly as a farmer with his crops always dying and one thing after another going wrong. This was offset by his frequent finds of old computer chips or firearms buried in the sand which kept him financially stable.

Then the mutants came. As the first raid occured he hid in his basement for days until the BOS had chased the malevolent invaders away, but now with their more recent attacks he has taken up arms to protect his measly belongings.

Gear- Eduardo wears a simple cotten shirt over dusty bluejeans, and a pair of leather cowboy boots. He is always wearing his old brown poncho, which he considers lucky(It is full of holes and tears, but somehow still entirely functional), and a sombrero. He carries a hip pounch(food, survival gear, tools, etc.), a water skin, and a hunting kife. Otherwise he is currently unarmed.

Notes- Eduardo is entirely untrained to fight, and will mostly win fights due to his extraordinary luck and the circumstances created by it. He is relatively tough from a hard farmers life and the countless number of times he has:fallen, stumbled, stubbed, cut, hit, dropped, whacked, hammered, etc. His: hands, shins, face, fingers, toes, arms, back, stomach. Or any combination of the former.
 
Here's the edit of Uziel for the "Down in Mexico" RP.

Name: Joshua Uziel Fastrin
Age: 28
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Nationality: American
Height: 6'1''
Weight: 187 .lbs
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Brown
Place of Birth: Vault 34
Date of Birth: Unknown
Alignment: Lawful Good
Appearance: Tall, thin, and dirty. Very jewish appearance with the brown hair, eyes, and large nose. There is a slight imprink on his cheek from using his gun a bit too much. Has a scar going from the side of his belly button to his upper chest. He keeps his hair tied or gelled back to prevent it from getting into his eyes. Wears a bandana which he usually keeps moist to keep cool.


PRIMARY STATS
ST- 8

PE-10 (heroic)

EN- 6 (Good)

CH- 5 (average)

IN- 7 (V. Good)

AG-8

LK- 2 (Bad)


TRAITS
- Gifted
- Skilled


SKILLS (TAGGED) Best at
-Small Guns
-Melee
-Laser Weapons




ARMOR
-Brotherhood Armor

WEAPON IN POSSESSION
- Sniper Rifle
-Sharp hunting knife
-Laser Pistol

ITEMS AND KEEP SAKES:
-20 Mini Power Cells
-220 Caps
-Picture of his parents and the Vault he came from
-Torah
-Four boxes of .223 ((<--I do too have ammo!))
-Vault-tec canteen
-Several stimpacks
-Unidentifiable food
-2 Tragic decks

Bio: Parents came from Vault 34 with several weapons salvaged from the vault. Lived on a farm until drought forced him to leave. After that he found the Cathedral and in fear of the Nightkin he fled and was found by the Brotherhood (Age 16 then). He joined and was very successful in his studies, but was very ruthless and aggressive in combat. So aggressive he was sent to the Major's company, fearing he would become corrupt somehow. Very loyal and sticks to his job and task at hand. When he's not fighting he plays and teaches Tragic.
 
Name: Richter Kell

Age: 24

Weight: 178 lb

Height: 6'1

Hair: Brown

Eyes: Brown

Known Identifying Characteristics: Nickname "Killer Kell", BOS sword and cog tattoo on right shoulder, slight knife scar on right cheek

Affiliation: Brotherhood of Steel

Rank: Corporal-Knight

Specialty: Scout/Sniper Team

Personality: Generally friendly and outgoing to those he is acquainted. Somewhat brooding, he takes his job seriously and has no idea why he is still alive. Mild depression, set on by isolation due to nature of his work. Personal history is classified under existing BOS File RSA 3######.


Equipment:

WA2000 sniper rifle with several reloads

Combat knife

Super cattle prod (near drained)

Magneto-Laser Pistol several reloads

Med-kit, several stims

Survival gear w/ water flasks

Homemade ghillie suit

Armor: Brotherhood armor
 
For Down In Mexico RP:

Name: Ralik
Eyes: Brown
Height: 6'1''
Weight: 190

A one time merc that settled down in the Hub, and started a family. After that he became a caravan guard, which was rather easy work for good pay, and let him stay near the Hub for a good portion of the time.

When the mutants came, Ralik fought long and hard, along with dozens of other partisans from the city. Eventually though, their efforts were for naught.

With the hub and his family gone, Ralik easily bought into the Brotherhoods promise of vengance. He had nothing left too lose.

Stats:
Strength:8
Perception:6
Endurance:5
Charisma:6
Intelligence:7
Agility:10
Luck:5

Gifted

Inventory:
1x Combat Shotgun
80x Rounds 12 guage
1x 14mm Pistol
36x 14mm rounds
2x Fragmentation Grenades
1x Metal armor
121 caps
 
Back
Top