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

[Dantrag]

Name: Karelia

Age: 23

Role: Sniper

Equipment: her weapons are a sniper rifle, a 10mm pistol, and a switchblade. She's usually got jet, mentats, and cigarettes on her (if not, there are problems) as well as Fancy Lads Snack Cakes.

Skills: small guns, sneak

Appearance: Karelia is of average height and is a little too thin, probably due to heavy jet use. She has long black hair and ice cold blue eyes. She wears a pair of old ragged jeans, brahmin skin boots, and a faded black t shirt

Race: European

History: Karelia was born in a settlement near Springvale, but doesn't remember much about it. By the time she was five years old, raiders pillaged the place and Karelia was the only survivor. She was taken in by the raider gang where she did whatever labor she was told to do at the hideout for a few years. The violence and evil she witnessed from day to day nearly drove her mad at first, but with time and chems, she became accustomed to the raider lifestyle. Soon Karelia found that she had a natural affinity for guns. She was a crack shot and could generally fix anything that fired bullets. She was out on raiding parties by the time she was fourteen, and her place as a sniper in the gang was solidified.

On one such raiding party, Karelia abandoned her gang and left them to die at the hands of Regulators. She could have helped them from a distance (that was her job, in fact) but she chose to simply walk away and live her own life. Her plan didn't work out as expected; she was captured by the Regulators and was forced to live with them for a time. The Regulators treated her well enough, but she was still their captive; nobody trusted or even liked her. When Sam left the Regulators to create the Flying Bullets Company, he helped her escape, so she's been tagging along ever since.

Karelia may seem insane to some. She doesn't do so well in social situations, she's addicted to Jet and Mentats, her sense of humor is distasteful, and extreme violence seems to amuse more than bother her.

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9 Years Ago...
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They were all drunk, sitting around a table playing a loud game of dice. This was the abandoned house the raiders had chosen to call their home for the next few days, and Karelia knew that they wouldn't move on until it was thoroughly trashed. Her Jet was wearing off now, and reality sunk in. She watched the game intently, wanting them all to drink more before she tried to steal more chems.

"Hey, you!" one shouted at her, "Stop sulking in the corner and get me something to eat."

The command was accompanied by a bottle flying her way. She ducked in time, but her head was covered in vodka and glass shards. She glared at the man, but it was a pathetic resistance.

"Well what are you waiting for?" he moved his hand towards another bottle...

Seeing the threat, Karelia quickly stood and did as she was told. She hated being weak, she hated playing slave girl to these vile men, and most of all, she hated being scared. The next room, which was once a kitchen, held some Fancy Lads Snack Cakes which she brought back to the table.

"Don't make me wait so long next time, or you'll end up like that one back there, little girl," he pointed back down the hallway.

Karelia thought she was going to vomit. She had already seen the woman in the back room, and she had seen what they did to her. When it was all over they simply put a bullet in her head. Only the Jet let Karelia block it out and retreat inside her own mind.

"Yes, sir," she said, though the words tasted like dung in her mouth. One hand offered snack cakes, while the other swiftly grabbed a Jet inhaler sitting on the table. A huge hand gripped her arm so tight she thought it might shatter, and Karelia realized that she hadn't been as slick as she'd thought.

"What's this?" he asked, prying the drug from her hand and waving it in her face.

"I...it's..." she stammered.

"It's mine!" he shouted as he swung her by her arm and threw her across the room.

She hit the wall hard and the floor harder. Seeing stars and feeling bruises, she tried to regain her composure quickly, because the beating was far from over.

"You little thief!" he said as he stumbled in her direction, "You're gonna regret stealing from me, little girl."

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and put his face close to hers, "I think it's time we went down the hall."

Karelia's eyes widened in panic. These were the last moments of her life, she thought, and they were going to be worse than any other part of her fourteen years. She was forced into the room, and saw that nothing had been picked up. The dead woman stared up at her with sad eyes, and there was fresh blood splattered on the wall. Karelia threw up, and the man suddenly let go of her to avoid getting stomach contents on himself. As she looked up from her lunch on the floor, she noticed a pistol that someone had carelessly left on a desk. Since she was free at this moment, she ran for it, picked it up, and pointed it at her enemy.

He man changed completely at that moment. His facial expression, his tone of voice, and his general demeanor, "Okay, little girl, just put that down and everything will be fine."

Karelia grinned; now that the tables had been turned he was trying to be a little more respectful. Too little, too late. The little girl fired again and again-- long after the man had fallen dead-- and kept pulling the trigger even though the gun was only making small clicking sounds now. She looked up to see another of the raiders standing in the doorway.

"You killed Ryder," he said, no hint in his voice that said he cared, "Better find some more bullets for that thing, because you're taking his place tomorrow when we raid."

He walked away, and Karelia stood alone, staring at the gun in her hand and the man on the floor.