Give me a moment, I've been working on John for three hours. These things take time.
Name: Jonathan Guntherson
Gender: Male
Age: 39
Role: Mechanic/techguy
Race: Caucasian
Appearance:
Jonathan is a somewhat short man with a thin frame. black hair mixed with grey struggles to cover his skull and fight the encroaching baldness. He also has a thin moustache and a long goatee. Other than his physical attributes, Jonathan is characterized by his tathered and stained labcoat, the toolbelt around his waist and the pair of glasses he always wears. His glasses used to have actual lenses, but they broke at some point and he’s never found a suitable replacement.
Skills:
Repair (high)
Improvised construction (basically, for coming up with new ways to attach things to other things.)
Small arms (Very Low)
Eyesight (poor at long distances)
Weapons:
A heavily modified stapler.
Cons: Next to real weapons it hits like a big mosquito, is useless against even reasonably thick clothing and it can barely go out beyond stonethrowing range and even there its accuracy is lousy. Pros: lots and lots of ammo.
.32 pistol, just one bullet left, usually stored in an inside pocket of his labcoat
History:
Jonathan was born in a village which was located next to a prewar industrial sector. While the factories had been silenced due to lack of raw materials, replacement parts and a lack of a market, the machinery proved to be a treasure trove for the postwar scavengers. Growing up amongst his peers, Jonathan learned what parts were salvageable, how to built crazy mechanisms out of random scrap and how to avoid getting his head cracked by an ancient steel press. Unfortunately, his own gang of scavengers weren’t the only ones interested in the plant as rival groups both from within the settlement and outside all tried to stake their claim. As a result, over the years the village shriveled till only a handful of survivors were left.
Not willing to stay and die for a lost cause, Jonathan simply gathered the few possessions he could carry, bid farewell to his contraptions and left. His travels led him to Megaton, where his skills as a mechanic were well appreciated. Still, he never quite liked the town and over the two decades he spent there he became increasingly bored. Not enough opportunity to get new toys to fix, as he’d always say. So when he heard of the small mercenary gang that was looking for some more hands, he joined up. In his mind, Coldshort’s Company offered the opportunity to find new mechanisms to tinker with and while anyone could shoot a gun, if no one was around to maintain them, they wouldn’t be shooting for long.
OK, please tell me if I missed anything.