Flying Bullets Company: Characters, Fallout RP Options

[Dantrag]

Anyhoos, here's the character sheet:

Name:
Age:
Role:

Equipment:
Weapons(s):
Skills:

Appearance:
Race:

History:

Let your imaginations run free!

Oh, and no equipment that's too powerful like Plasma Rifles, Gatling Lasers or Power Armour, because that would be silly.

NEW ADDITION: write a short story from your character's past so other players can get an idea of your character's personality and get in their head a little.

This post has been edited by Dantrag: Apr 4 2009, 02:57 AM

[Silver]

Name: Linda
Age: 22
Role: Scout

Equipment: Leather Armour, greying wool hood, a torn, grey patterned, cloak, bottles of purified water, a few pulse grenades, and a shot or two of Jet.

Weapons(s): Her weapon of choice is a laser rifle with a jury-rigged scope, and enough cells to last a long time, along with a .32 pistol, though she only has a few rounds for it.

Skills: Sneaking around, and hacking computers.

Appearance: With a lithe body, and just below average hieght, she would have been pretty in a different era, but instead her hair is dry and frayed, and she doesn't often bother to scrub the dirt of the wasteland off her skin. Small, slight, and almost unnaturally light on her feet, she prefers to go by the alias of 'Shadow.'

Race: Hispanic

(NEW!) History: Growing up wasn't so bad for her as a child, deep in the fortified caverns of Raven Rock with both her parents there intermittenly, though they would go out into the wasteland on the mandatory patrols... one day, the Vertibird her parents were in was shot down by Super Mutants, the details never really got back to her, but she always had hope that they had survived one way or another. After spending years training in Raven Rock, she finally left to go out into the Wasteland and find her long-lost parents. Armed with a laser rifle and a recon armour, she headed out optimistically. Soon enough, though, her supply of fresh water ran out, and unable to find any other source she tried the water of a sludgy stream. Her palatte was nowhere near degenerated enough to filter out the poisons of radiation, and she was unprepared for the effects, her tongue was burned badly, and never completely healed. Now almost mute, she rarely bothers to say anything that could be otherwise communicated, and only interacted with people when she had to deal with the wandering traders in order to get replacement parts for her rifle, using her last name so little that it has been lost from her memory.


Short story!

She took a shallow breath, her prey a few meters below her, gazing intently into a campfire. With a quick procession of steps, disloging a piece of scrap metal that clanked, clattered and fell in the opposite direction, she sprinted along the rusted iron bar. Her target turned toward the source of the noise, the worse for him. She lept. Her heartbeat seemed to slow, counting the moments as she hung in the air, arms spread, a knife clutched in her right hand. She landed on the masked raider, feet smashing into the back of his knees, her knife driving into the sweaty neck.

The soon-to-be corpse convulsed on the end of her blade, and she kicked the leather-bound torso making it flop forward off the steel edge. The next bandit was looking outward, some ten feet away, and with the commotion turned, just in time to recieve a bolt of burning light into his eye. It smouldered, and the wastelander let out a blood-curdling scream, clapping dirty hands over the waste of his eye. She shot him in the hands, burning a blackened disc through both, revealing the snow-white bone. The scream raised into a shriek, as the man reflexively drew his hands away from his face to stare, single-eyed, at the gaping holes. A third shot lanced through his skull, ending the cries.

She opened the factory doors, from where she had climbed onto the gantry, and waved the all-clear, and whispered a single word, "None."

This post has been edited by Silver: Apr 26 2009, 01:42 AM