A REALLY Wild Wasteland... (Fallout RP Sign-Up Thread)
- Thread starter FalloutJack
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Don't know if you're still accepting sheets but... what if I crossed Al Swearingen with the Announcer from Team Fortress 2?
NAME: Beryl Craw.
AGE: 55.
GENDER: Female.
RACE: White, Human
APPEARANCE: Aged 55, but looks more like 65. Has the colouring and texture of a walnut. Short grey hair, kept in an old fashioned style. Dresses in a shabby but clean, pre-war formal wear. Walks with a limp, attributed to "the weather". Has a perpetually sour expression, and is never known to smile. Has a voice appropriate for someone who has chain smoked ever since the age of six.
PERSONALITY: Beryl is not a people's person. Everyone is a test of her patience, and that comes in a limited supply. She sees others as liabilities, to be discarded once they have served their purpose. A lifetime of betrayals, complications and screw ups has taught her not to trust easily, nor establish a dependency on others. As such, she is a volatile individual who perpetually needs a reason not to blow up in someone else's face.
At the end of the day, Beryl is just saving up for a little place where she can retire in peace, and pursue her golfing hobby. Shame that chance to settle down just never seems to come around.
WEAPONS: A tommy gun. Beryl depends on a "spray and pray" approach to combat. For anything else, there is the 9 iron in her hand luggage.
ITEMS: A pre-war business suit. A suitcase containing a change of clothes, a few bottlecaps for travel expenses, and a few basic hair care products. A duster for longer distance journeys, and some whiskey to deal with her sore leg. Golf balls and tees.
PERKS/TRAITS/SKILLS: Beryl may be a game old bird, but her limp and her chest infection keeps her from being too active. She's neither very agile or strong. Has an exceptionally sharp mind, with lies often failing to get by her. She is surprisingly intimidating in conversation and a skilled negotiator, if only by virtue of beating her opponent down with constant glowering.
TRANSPORTATION: Relies on public transport, where possible. Isn't one for taking the reins, and dislikes walking for too long.
AGE: 55.
GENDER: Female.
RACE: White, Human
APPEARANCE: Aged 55, but looks more like 65. Has the colouring and texture of a walnut. Short grey hair, kept in an old fashioned style. Dresses in a shabby but clean, pre-war formal wear. Walks with a limp, attributed to "the weather". Has a perpetually sour expression, and is never known to smile. Has a voice appropriate for someone who has chain smoked ever since the age of six.
PERSONALITY: Beryl is not a people's person. Everyone is a test of her patience, and that comes in a limited supply. She sees others as liabilities, to be discarded once they have served their purpose. A lifetime of betrayals, complications and screw ups has taught her not to trust easily, nor establish a dependency on others. As such, she is a volatile individual who perpetually needs a reason not to blow up in someone else's face.
At the end of the day, Beryl is just saving up for a little place where she can retire in peace, and pursue her golfing hobby. Shame that chance to settle down just never seems to come around.
WEAPONS: A tommy gun. Beryl depends on a "spray and pray" approach to combat. For anything else, there is the 9 iron in her hand luggage.
ITEMS: A pre-war business suit. A suitcase containing a change of clothes, a few bottlecaps for travel expenses, and a few basic hair care products. A duster for longer distance journeys, and some whiskey to deal with her sore leg. Golf balls and tees.
PERKS/TRAITS/SKILLS: Beryl may be a game old bird, but her limp and her chest infection keeps her from being too active. She's neither very agile or strong. Has an exceptionally sharp mind, with lies often failing to get by her. She is surprisingly intimidating in conversation and a skilled negotiator, if only by virtue of beating her opponent down with constant glowering.
TRANSPORTATION: Relies on public transport, where possible. Isn't one for taking the reins, and dislikes walking for too long.
Gig's speed could make him an integral part of the team until of course there is any danger then he'll use the other members as shieldsImSkeletor said:
Now that I think about it he would make an excellant supervillians sidekick/minion
NAME: Bartelby Naroh
AGE: 31
GENDER: Male
RACE: Human
APPEARANCE: A man of average height (5'10 to put a number) and thin build. He does not appear physically strong because, honestly, he's fairly weak. Bartelby's physique would perhaps be better suited to diving through narrow windows or hiding under desks than, for example, lifting furniture. That being said, his shoulder length black hair is ussually clean, he makes a valiant effort to keep a smooth face in a world where razors are ussually reserved for other purposes and his clothes are significantly more sophisticated than the average joe's functional attire. With his dark green eyes and smooth features he might even be attractive if it weren't for the nearly permanent expressions of terror, shock and unease which are his standard states of being.
PERSONALITY: Bartelby is a well trained and very experienced coward. He's a man of the people, in that the more people who are following him the easier it is to hide behind them. He believes in and respects the ideas of honor and chivalry but fully recognizes that they're for people who are morally superior. A dirty trick or two isn't below him; if it got him out of danger canabalism wouldn't be below him. He's not afriad to grovel. Though he will certainly be afraid while groveling, and after groveling, and upon meeting anyone who might potentialy be placated by a good bout of groveling. Its not that he's spineless, at his core hes a rebel humanist with deep concerns for the current condition of humanity and the plight of the average wastelander, its just that when everyone is trying to kill you all the time, it makes a person nervous.
Bartelby maintains lofty ambitions of overthrowing the Enclave and establishing a truely representative government to defend the average man and ensure the rule of law. Unfortunately his allies are few and far between. The Brotherhood of Steel considers Bartelby a high priority enemy and is ever at work attempting to recapture the old world bike that Bartelby stole from their base in California. The Enclave, and Bartelby's poor sick mother, aren't appreciative of Bartelby's rebellious ways and will do whats necessary to prevent it becoming an inconvenience. Crimson Caravan Company occasionally sends very well trained mercenaries to remind Bartelby of his 12,000 cap debt back west in Oregon. The Followers of the Apocalypse are the only ones happy to see his terrified visage, and thats only so they can use him as bargaining leverage against his mother in the Enclave. This means the only people Bartelby can rely on as allies are the bullied and bruised wastelanders. Understandably, these people are low on guns and ussually lose their enthusiasm for civic revolution after their first bullet wound. Consequently, Bartelby spends a lot of his time running. He's gotten fairly good at it
WEAPONS: TNT, Frag Grenades, the occasional plasma grenade made suspiciously from the interior of his old world bike out of empty nuka cola bottles.
ITEMS: Stimpacks, doctors bags, rad-away, rope, flint,
PERKS/TRAITS/SKILLS:
{Overwhelming Bad Luck} If something can go wrong, you should anticipate that it will.
{Works On Bears} Gain the ability to "play dead". Bartelby will fall to the ground and enemies below a certain intellect will treat him as dead.
{Cagey Charm} Bartelby has a way with people. Technically its pleading for his life, but there's just something about that delivery...
{Urban Guerilla Squirell} Years of out running, out climbing, and out hanging-off-the-sides-of-buildings his pursuers has made Bartelby a veritable escaping machine. He's one of the few human beings who can condescendingly critique the escape plans of scurrying rodents.
{Human Resources Idiot-Savant} Plenty of very well connected people know Bartelby by name. Most of them hate him.
{Escapological Tinkerer} Trained primarily from numerous occasions in which a localized explosion might be helpful, or a door would be put to better use disassembled, Bartelby gains a bonus to the repair and science skills when using these abilities to escape.
TRANSPORTATION: A three-seater motorcycle, labeled with a logo of a brain riding a cat. Whatever it is, the bike is very advanced technology, probably from before the great war. This can be deduced by its incredible land speed, the drawer in the side that produces plasma grenades out of empty nuka cola bottles, and the fact that it was stolen from the Brotherhood of Steel who have spent an inordinate amount of time and money trying to recover it. Its the perfect vehicle for Bartelby because, at the speeds it travels, you have to be desperate before its even worth using. Fortunately, Bartelby is desperate often and the bike has saved his life on numerous occasions.
AGE: 31
GENDER: Male
RACE: Human
APPEARANCE: A man of average height (5'10 to put a number) and thin build. He does not appear physically strong because, honestly, he's fairly weak. Bartelby's physique would perhaps be better suited to diving through narrow windows or hiding under desks than, for example, lifting furniture. That being said, his shoulder length black hair is ussually clean, he makes a valiant effort to keep a smooth face in a world where razors are ussually reserved for other purposes and his clothes are significantly more sophisticated than the average joe's functional attire. With his dark green eyes and smooth features he might even be attractive if it weren't for the nearly permanent expressions of terror, shock and unease which are his standard states of being.
PERSONALITY: Bartelby is a well trained and very experienced coward. He's a man of the people, in that the more people who are following him the easier it is to hide behind them. He believes in and respects the ideas of honor and chivalry but fully recognizes that they're for people who are morally superior. A dirty trick or two isn't below him; if it got him out of danger canabalism wouldn't be below him. He's not afriad to grovel. Though he will certainly be afraid while groveling, and after groveling, and upon meeting anyone who might potentialy be placated by a good bout of groveling. Its not that he's spineless, at his core hes a rebel humanist with deep concerns for the current condition of humanity and the plight of the average wastelander, its just that when everyone is trying to kill you all the time, it makes a person nervous.
Bartelby maintains lofty ambitions of overthrowing the Enclave and establishing a truely representative government to defend the average man and ensure the rule of law. Unfortunately his allies are few and far between. The Brotherhood of Steel considers Bartelby a high priority enemy and is ever at work attempting to recapture the old world bike that Bartelby stole from their base in California. The Enclave, and Bartelby's poor sick mother, aren't appreciative of Bartelby's rebellious ways and will do whats necessary to prevent it becoming an inconvenience. Crimson Caravan Company occasionally sends very well trained mercenaries to remind Bartelby of his 12,000 cap debt back west in Oregon. The Followers of the Apocalypse are the only ones happy to see his terrified visage, and thats only so they can use him as bargaining leverage against his mother in the Enclave. This means the only people Bartelby can rely on as allies are the bullied and bruised wastelanders. Understandably, these people are low on guns and ussually lose their enthusiasm for civic revolution after their first bullet wound. Consequently, Bartelby spends a lot of his time running. He's gotten fairly good at it
WEAPONS: TNT, Frag Grenades, the occasional plasma grenade made suspiciously from the interior of his old world bike out of empty nuka cola bottles.
ITEMS: Stimpacks, doctors bags, rad-away, rope, flint,
PERKS/TRAITS/SKILLS:
{Overwhelming Bad Luck} If something can go wrong, you should anticipate that it will.
{Works On Bears} Gain the ability to "play dead". Bartelby will fall to the ground and enemies below a certain intellect will treat him as dead.
{Cagey Charm} Bartelby has a way with people. Technically its pleading for his life, but there's just something about that delivery...
{Urban Guerilla Squirell} Years of out running, out climbing, and out hanging-off-the-sides-of-buildings his pursuers has made Bartelby a veritable escaping machine. He's one of the few human beings who can condescendingly critique the escape plans of scurrying rodents.
{Human Resources Idiot-Savant} Plenty of very well connected people know Bartelby by name. Most of them hate him.
{Escapological Tinkerer} Trained primarily from numerous occasions in which a localized explosion might be helpful, or a door would be put to better use disassembled, Bartelby gains a bonus to the repair and science skills when using these abilities to escape.
TRANSPORTATION: A three-seater motorcycle, labeled with a logo of a brain riding a cat. Whatever it is, the bike is very advanced technology, probably from before the great war. This can be deduced by its incredible land speed, the drawer in the side that produces plasma grenades out of empty nuka cola bottles, and the fact that it was stolen from the Brotherhood of Steel who have spent an inordinate amount of time and money trying to recover it. Its the perfect vehicle for Bartelby because, at the speeds it travels, you have to be desperate before its even worth using. Fortunately, Bartelby is desperate often and the bike has saved his life on numerous occasions.
well, it took a while, but dammit I think that was worth the wait. That made me laugh quite a few times, and adds another unique character to the mix, I'll love to see what shenanigans he gets himself into. I'm putting this guy on my list of characters to keep an eye on.Khedive Rex said:
Why thank you! I kind of love the idea of playing a magnificent coward and this struck me as just the kind of RP where I could get away with doing something like that. There's certainly already a precedent for out-there characters. I'm quite excited to run into your walrus doctor. Bartelby has a special fear of doctors. Most people have to settle for killing you. Doctors? They can keep you alive...Dr. Crawver said:
Is it too late to sign-up?
If not... I have a character sheet below...
So, if it isn't too late, I'd like to join.
If not... I have a character sheet below...
NAME: Dr. Howard Phillips; Doc Ward for short; DO NOT call him 'Howie'
AGE: 33
GENDER: Male
RACE: Human, mostly Caucasian.
APPEARANCE: Short dark brown hair parted towards the left. Very long oval-shaped face, large almond-shaped brown eyes. Patchy eyebrows set just above the eyes, making for an abnormally large forehead. Extremely thin lips (bottom lip almost looks like it isn't there most of the time). Despite the hard living that everyone endures these days, there isn't a single scar on him. Keeps himself well-groomed and clean-shaven. He always wears a solid black suit he found in a building in Dunwich, complete with a necktie and coat. Uses stitched-together remains of a conveyer as a belt. Wears a black paper trilby. Has a pair of broad square reading glasses that he wears to get a closer look at something. He's around 6'2", but despite his height, he's a bit of a pushover; he's very skinny and lanky, probably couldn't take a decently muscled guy half his height, let alone a super mutant, in a fist-fight anyway. Good thing he doesn't really depend on going toe-to-toe with anyone.
PERSONALITY: He's very bookish, and usually fairly quiet. Well, calling him 'a bit bookish' is a gross understatement; he's a complete bibliophile (it would be sexual if it were at all physically possible) with a keen analytical mind, so despite only having tattered remains of medical textbooks and energy weapons manuals to work with, he's managed to deduce most of the gaps in his education rather well, and when he can, he conducts some experiments to work out the rest. But, of course, he's always on the look for a new book, whether or not it actually furthers his studies. In combat, he tends to sneak around, but despite that, he never shuts up. He's always making a running commentary of everything that's going on. He's thought about trying to stop doing that, but it hasn't gotten him killed yet... and it has had his opponents make stupid blunders in the past, so its useful enough. Well, that's not entirely true... there are some occasions during combat where he will quiet down... usually when he hasn't been detected yet... but assuming he has been... he might quiet down when trying to take someone completely by surprise without any warning whatsoever... or... when he thinks the shit is REALLY about the hit the fan. In his spare time, he writes short fiction stories, usually horror. Some of his work has already been circulated in some of the more heavily restored areas, and well... the content of his work has led many to believe he is completely schizophrenic. Howard himself is unsure of this. He just gets these headaches sometimes, and then he falls into deep sleep, and then he has utterly bizarre nightmares; and while these go, he narrates them at the top of his voice without meaning to while still asleep. Many of these nightmares have directly inspired some of his most disturbing work. If you're traveling with him, he asks that you write down everything he says during these 'nightmares', if they don't scare you into running to the next state.
WEAPONS: He has a custom array of laser weaponry that he's tacked together from spare parts he keeps around in his knapsack. But, he only has enough parts to make one weapon at a time, and makes a habit of disassembling today's weapon, and prepare tomorrow's according what he thinks he'll need tomorrow. These weapons aren't always reliable, and how good they are really depends on how much time he has to assemble them, and what kind, and quality of parts he finds. Most of the time, he's packing a middle of the road laser pistol that has a medium range, and slightly below average damage. Sometimes he'll have a rapid-fire, but typically fairly inaccurate laser assault rifle that does slightly above average damage. And on very rare occasions, he'll be packing an extremely lethal, extremely long-range sniper rifle that fires one shot every 2 minutes, but whatever it hits is instantly vaporized. He's an okay shot with the sniper rifle, a horrible shot with the assault rifle, and an exceptional shot with the pistol. If he finds shoddy, sub-standard, or even outright unstable parts, he flat-out refuses to sell them, instead, he turns them into grenades of varying types, it really depends on what he finds. He doesn't currently have any on him though.
ITEMS: He has a satchel/knapsack that he takes with him everywhere, almost always slung over his left shoulder. He carries everything in it from whatever bits of junk and spare weapon parts to a small collection of pencils and paper, as well as his reading glasses, and whatever manuscript he happens to be working on at the time. Aside from that, he has a small locket with an ink drawing of a pretty woman in it that he keeps hidden in a secret compartment of the satchel.
PERKS/TRAITS/SKILLS: He is a decent practitioner of medicine, he rarely makes mistakes, and has a good grasp of where his limits are, and does not step beyond them. When he encounters an injury or illness that is beyond his ability to heal, he will offer his patient the mercy of death. He does not relish this option, and proceeds to carry it out with a great deal of care to minimize the patient's suffering as much as possible. He is also fairly good at repairing weapons and armor, but he is especially skilled with energy weapons, and anything to do with power generation or conveyance. He hates computers and robots though, they have an annoying tendency to blow up whenever he tries to use them. He is fairly good at keeping out of other people's sight both in and out of combat, and has a very quiet step. As previously mentioned, he also has a very odd quirk of narrating the majority of fights he finds himself in, much to the chagrin of his opponents (even driven a few into a blind fury). Howard is very aware of the effect his constant narration can have on someone, and he has trained himself, with the help of a few books he found on the subject, in the art of ventriloquism. He can't really speak without his lips moving yet, but he is very adept at throwing his voice wherever he wants to.
TRANSPORTATION: Usually none, but when he can find a good horse, he'll try to snatch it up
AGE: 33
GENDER: Male
RACE: Human, mostly Caucasian.
APPEARANCE: Short dark brown hair parted towards the left. Very long oval-shaped face, large almond-shaped brown eyes. Patchy eyebrows set just above the eyes, making for an abnormally large forehead. Extremely thin lips (bottom lip almost looks like it isn't there most of the time). Despite the hard living that everyone endures these days, there isn't a single scar on him. Keeps himself well-groomed and clean-shaven. He always wears a solid black suit he found in a building in Dunwich, complete with a necktie and coat. Uses stitched-together remains of a conveyer as a belt. Wears a black paper trilby. Has a pair of broad square reading glasses that he wears to get a closer look at something. He's around 6'2", but despite his height, he's a bit of a pushover; he's very skinny and lanky, probably couldn't take a decently muscled guy half his height, let alone a super mutant, in a fist-fight anyway. Good thing he doesn't really depend on going toe-to-toe with anyone.
PERSONALITY: He's very bookish, and usually fairly quiet. Well, calling him 'a bit bookish' is a gross understatement; he's a complete bibliophile (it would be sexual if it were at all physically possible) with a keen analytical mind, so despite only having tattered remains of medical textbooks and energy weapons manuals to work with, he's managed to deduce most of the gaps in his education rather well, and when he can, he conducts some experiments to work out the rest. But, of course, he's always on the look for a new book, whether or not it actually furthers his studies. In combat, he tends to sneak around, but despite that, he never shuts up. He's always making a running commentary of everything that's going on. He's thought about trying to stop doing that, but it hasn't gotten him killed yet... and it has had his opponents make stupid blunders in the past, so its useful enough. Well, that's not entirely true... there are some occasions during combat where he will quiet down... usually when he hasn't been detected yet... but assuming he has been... he might quiet down when trying to take someone completely by surprise without any warning whatsoever... or... when he thinks the shit is REALLY about the hit the fan. In his spare time, he writes short fiction stories, usually horror. Some of his work has already been circulated in some of the more heavily restored areas, and well... the content of his work has led many to believe he is completely schizophrenic. Howard himself is unsure of this. He just gets these headaches sometimes, and then he falls into deep sleep, and then he has utterly bizarre nightmares; and while these go, he narrates them at the top of his voice without meaning to while still asleep. Many of these nightmares have directly inspired some of his most disturbing work. If you're traveling with him, he asks that you write down everything he says during these 'nightmares', if they don't scare you into running to the next state.
WEAPONS: He has a custom array of laser weaponry that he's tacked together from spare parts he keeps around in his knapsack. But, he only has enough parts to make one weapon at a time, and makes a habit of disassembling today's weapon, and prepare tomorrow's according what he thinks he'll need tomorrow. These weapons aren't always reliable, and how good they are really depends on how much time he has to assemble them, and what kind, and quality of parts he finds. Most of the time, he's packing a middle of the road laser pistol that has a medium range, and slightly below average damage. Sometimes he'll have a rapid-fire, but typically fairly inaccurate laser assault rifle that does slightly above average damage. And on very rare occasions, he'll be packing an extremely lethal, extremely long-range sniper rifle that fires one shot every 2 minutes, but whatever it hits is instantly vaporized. He's an okay shot with the sniper rifle, a horrible shot with the assault rifle, and an exceptional shot with the pistol. If he finds shoddy, sub-standard, or even outright unstable parts, he flat-out refuses to sell them, instead, he turns them into grenades of varying types, it really depends on what he finds. He doesn't currently have any on him though.
ITEMS: He has a satchel/knapsack that he takes with him everywhere, almost always slung over his left shoulder. He carries everything in it from whatever bits of junk and spare weapon parts to a small collection of pencils and paper, as well as his reading glasses, and whatever manuscript he happens to be working on at the time. Aside from that, he has a small locket with an ink drawing of a pretty woman in it that he keeps hidden in a secret compartment of the satchel.
PERKS/TRAITS/SKILLS: He is a decent practitioner of medicine, he rarely makes mistakes, and has a good grasp of where his limits are, and does not step beyond them. When he encounters an injury or illness that is beyond his ability to heal, he will offer his patient the mercy of death. He does not relish this option, and proceeds to carry it out with a great deal of care to minimize the patient's suffering as much as possible. He is also fairly good at repairing weapons and armor, but he is especially skilled with energy weapons, and anything to do with power generation or conveyance. He hates computers and robots though, they have an annoying tendency to blow up whenever he tries to use them. He is fairly good at keeping out of other people's sight both in and out of combat, and has a very quiet step. As previously mentioned, he also has a very odd quirk of narrating the majority of fights he finds himself in, much to the chagrin of his opponents (even driven a few into a blind fury). Howard is very aware of the effect his constant narration can have on someone, and he has trained himself, with the help of a few books he found on the subject, in the art of ventriloquism. He can't really speak without his lips moving yet, but he is very adept at throwing his voice wherever he wants to.
TRANSPORTATION: Usually none, but when he can find a good horse, he'll try to snatch it up
So, if it isn't too late, I'd like to join.
A very interesting character, and...his mother's in the Enclave? That could be...fun.Khedive Rex said:
Project Purity functional and guarded by East Coast BoS. No FEV sabotage. Lone Wanderer wandered off some years back and we dunno where he went. Liam Neeson is still dead, but if you hurt his kid, he swears that he will find you and he will kill you.Souplex said:
Megaton is no boom, in fact disarmed. Tenpenny Tower is ghoul-haven'd.
Additinally, for anyone who needs to know: Independent New Vegas, NCR and Legion still in a snit out west. East Coast BoS not happy about the way West Coast BoS was handling things.
[HEADING=1]OKAY, PAY ATTENTION![/HEADING]
This is going to be big. Even with my having to exclude some of you, it's big. The order of operations now goes thusly...
{1} I figure out who the hell goes in.
{2} I prepare a ginormous post. (Or two if the Escapist has a character limit.)
{3} I invite people into the group.
{4} The prepared post is posted.
{5} You get to postin'.
From there, I'm gonna handle things the best I can. Chances are, I'll have to trust something to somebody, but I won't know what until I find it. I can tell that a number of you can, though. This is how it is. Further questions will be heard out, certainly, but once I make selections, refer to using the group chat for your poking.
It's looking like it's going to be enough fun, there's enough "normal" style RP characters, like the cowboys, basket cases, and warriors, with enough "wild card" characters thrown in to spice it up more. Just as long as no guns end up being pointed at the walruses head when he's no-where near water, I'm sure he'll do fine.Khedive Rex said:
As for being kept alive, just make sure he doesn't find you unconscious. Not only will he make sure you're kept alive, you'll probably wake up covered in thick walrus slobber.
NAME: Aurelius
AGE: 37
GENDER: Male
RACE: Marked Man Ghoul
APPEARANCE: Typical marked man ghoul red skin and patchy hair with a disgusting smell of irradiated flesh and piss. Nobody enjoys seeing a regular ghoul let alone Aurelius but, previously being a Frumentarii, being seen was never a particularly good thing.
PERSONALITY: Angry, constantly angry. Let to die in The Divide leaves a guy with a lot of resentment for everyone. Being a merciless killer for Caesar was only the beginning, now the hatred of all but fellow Marked Men drives Aurelius to do unspeakable things without batting an eyelid, though that isn't very possible when they were burned off by the dust of The Divide. Talking, while once a strong suit for Aurelius, is now something that tests every inch of his patience.
WEAPONS: A machete to carve up anyone in the way in one hand and an 10mm sub to gun down anyone out of immediate reach.
ITEMS: A face wrap and some worn out NCR Ranger patrol armour, patched up beyond recognition; nobody would recognise the origins and Aurelius' face is best left hidden when in company. Everything is kept to a minimum: ammo, stims, food, so that Aurelius never has to worry about being over-encumbered in a tight situation, there's enough to travel between towns most times, but long journeys become difficult when there's either less than needed or more than Aurelius is comfortable with.
PERKS/TRAITS/SKILLS: Being a former Frumentarii for Caesar, Aurelius is skilled in hiding, both in plain sight and being actually hidden (+sneak). Making people fear him and the Legion was once his job and having a way with words and a machete made this significantly easier (+melee, +speech). Being a Ghoul gives him the ability to not only resist radiation but to speed up regenerative properties of cells, an asset most would spend vast amounts to have (healing improved in irradiated areas). Sadly, being a ghoul comes at a cost, the decay makes Aurelius much more fragile than a human and makes chems almost useless (less health and strength ,meds and chems are less effective).
TRANSPORTATION: Feet. Anything more than that would make Aurelius a bigger target and more likely to be spotted.
AGE: 37
GENDER: Male
RACE: Marked Man Ghoul
APPEARANCE: Typical marked man ghoul red skin and patchy hair with a disgusting smell of irradiated flesh and piss. Nobody enjoys seeing a regular ghoul let alone Aurelius but, previously being a Frumentarii, being seen was never a particularly good thing.
PERSONALITY: Angry, constantly angry. Let to die in The Divide leaves a guy with a lot of resentment for everyone. Being a merciless killer for Caesar was only the beginning, now the hatred of all but fellow Marked Men drives Aurelius to do unspeakable things without batting an eyelid, though that isn't very possible when they were burned off by the dust of The Divide. Talking, while once a strong suit for Aurelius, is now something that tests every inch of his patience.
WEAPONS: A machete to carve up anyone in the way in one hand and an 10mm sub to gun down anyone out of immediate reach.
ITEMS: A face wrap and some worn out NCR Ranger patrol armour, patched up beyond recognition; nobody would recognise the origins and Aurelius' face is best left hidden when in company. Everything is kept to a minimum: ammo, stims, food, so that Aurelius never has to worry about being over-encumbered in a tight situation, there's enough to travel between towns most times, but long journeys become difficult when there's either less than needed or more than Aurelius is comfortable with.
PERKS/TRAITS/SKILLS: Being a former Frumentarii for Caesar, Aurelius is skilled in hiding, both in plain sight and being actually hidden (+sneak). Making people fear him and the Legion was once his job and having a way with words and a machete made this significantly easier (+melee, +speech). Being a Ghoul gives him the ability to not only resist radiation but to speed up regenerative properties of cells, an asset most would spend vast amounts to have (healing improved in irradiated areas). Sadly, being a ghoul comes at a cost, the decay makes Aurelius much more fragile than a human and makes chems almost useless (less health and strength ,meds and chems are less effective).
TRANSPORTATION: Feet. Anything more than that would make Aurelius a bigger target and more likely to be spotted.
Damn, my internet connection made this far more difficult than it should have been. I've hit a real Caesar's Legion kick at the minute and desperately want to start a new save with a character like this.
Is helping Roy and the ghouls the good option with the tower? That one struck me as gray, but mostly yeah. I wouldn't have him kill all the mutants. Marcus is awesome.Souplex said:
You did read how I said this was after New Vegas, right? And that later I clarified "Independent New Vegas", with the notion that the Legion and NCR still have alot to fight over? Not that that directly influences us unless you're from that area "CoughVanGraffCough* but still...LFC Scouser said:
You rang? And the best bit about ongoing conflict between NCR and Legion is that it's good for the family business! That and a lack of NCR taxes under Independant NV. Good times for all!FalloutJack said:
Well the good option is to persuade Tenpenny to let the ghouls stay, but that ends with Roy having all the non-ghoul residents killed anyways.FalloutJack said:
How was the Pitt handled since that choice was supposed to be morally gray?