Characters

Name: The Raptor
Real Name: Therm Vulture
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Occupation: Vigilante

Physical appearance
Eyes: Dark blue
Hair: Black
Height: 5.7 Feet tall
Weight: 173 Pounds

History:
He was scarred by the horrors of the wasteland. So he slowly built up money to buy some battle supplies. He then set out to make the wasteland a better place in his own way. He protects major and minor settlements as he travels and deals with local threats. He is skilled in the use of multiple weapons and is quite agile.

Personality: When he is not fighting the local scum he is quite unique. He seems to always be able to start a conversation with someone and talk them into doing things. He is generally quite kind with an intact moral compass, although he will fight people picking on people weaker than them.

Weapons:
He has many weapons. Some of his main ones include a powerful shotgun, a six shot .44 revolver, a plasma rifle, a laser RCW, and a serrated combat knife.

Items:
He always carries around 3,000 or so caps. He also has a stash of stimpacks, radaway, and mentats. He also carries around a notebook as well as a few pencils and a pen. Lastly, he has a large stash of Nuka Cola that he carries around on him (some say he might be addicted).

Clothing:
He has a night-black trench coat that covers his whole body. He also wears a gas mask and a fedora. The trench coat has ballistic fiber woven into it.
 
Name: The Black Ranger
Real Name: Reid Walker
Age:33
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Occupation: Outlaw/Vigilante/Mercenary Etc depends on your opinion.

Physical appearance
Eyes: Pale Blue
Hair: Brown
Height: 6.2"
Weight: 189 Pounds

History:
Well a former NCR ranger he was trained since childhood to be one of their most elite soldiers. He was able to strike in the night and leave him targets dead not even noticed. He decided to leave after he had a minor fallout with the president of the NCR, he then since has roamed the US going all over taking jobs and killing who he deems a bad person. Currently he is stationed somewhere in Colorado there has been no noticeable activities from his end of the spectrum.

Personality: He has a very self righteous and judgmental personality thinking he can judge those and decide who lives and dies. He may have mild anger issues and will sometimes loose patience with those who take too long to talk or just waste his time, those encounters usually end up with a dead body.

Weapons: He carries a 50. sniper rifle which he calls 'The Ranger', a 44. Magnum which he calls 'Ol' Lucky' and a combat knife, he usually has a few grenades on him and occasionally a rifle of some sorts.

Items: He carries around a sleeping bag, some food and drinks, extra weapons and ammo and a few thousand caps on him for traders. He also takes a souvenir from everyone he had killed. He also carries around a teddy bear some people recon it's maybe from a child or others just say he keeps it because he had no childhood.


Clothing:
He wears standard NCR ranger armour, some dog tags with his name etched in and a backpack. Across his NCR armour written in white paint is 'Fucker' which he put on personally.
 
Name: (Former Senior Scribe) Martin of the Den

Alias: The Atomic Bard

Age: 35

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Gear/Inventory:

-Sawed Off Double Barrel Shotgun

-.38 Revolver

-Ripper (Modified for cutting through metal)

-Pip-Boy Mark II (Sound Currently Disabled; the song Crawl Out, Through The Fallout is on a permanently loop until new parts can be found to replace a modulator.)

-FIL-IP (Phillip) (Floating Independent Logistics and Intelligence Probe) An eyebot

-Small stockpile of ammunition and spare parts organized in a external frame hiking backpack.

- Atomic Guitar Synthesizer- Self powered guitar replacement with built in speakers and storage.


History:

Born in the New California Republic into the Western Brotherhood of Steel, Martin has grown up under the care of the Brotherhood’s principles and guidance the majority of his life. The rigid lifestyle always grated a little at him as he grew up, but with all the opportunities to provided to him. As an apprentice, he studied hard to prove himself, but when left to his own devices, he tended to spend his time with machines. He also took up a love of music, and spent a great deal of time working on radios and fixing up a handful of musical instruments with his free time.


When it came time for him to be directed towards an occupation he found himself joining the Brotherhood Scribes. As part of his acceptance he had since begun to catalog and maintain incoming radio signals, specifically for the cataloging of music and news. His archive has since been copied and provided to other bunkers and spread throughout the Western Brotherhood. This became known as Brotherhood Historical Catalog of American Music, but informally the Atomic Scribe Tapes. It was through these “tapes” that he gained the nickname Atomic Scribe. His tapes spread across the wastelands of the former United States even gaining notice as far as the DC Wasteland and the Eastern Brotherhood of Steel.


The main archive was eventually established at the Den Outpost, and he was promoted to Senior Scribe in charge of the archives. From there he established the first Brotherhood of Steel Radio Station. This worked as a general broadcast station providing coded signals that could be decoded by the Brotherhood as a way of sending out orders without direct signals, thereby preventing their enemies from triangulating the position of patrols. Its secondary bonus was that it gave the Atomic Scribe a chance to spread his love of music across New California.


With growing discourse taking place between separate organizations of the BoS taking place, forming the Eastern, Western, and Midwestern Brotherhoods of Steel, it became necessary for communications between elders to be more consistent with backups in place. With his extended knowledge of radio signals and the electronics necessary to project and receive the signals he was placed in charge of Project Airwaves, their answer to the issue of the decreasing number of communication satellites in orbit.


They set out with the intention to cross the wastes to establish a radio communication relay network. Thirty men and small airship were dispatched to repair and when necessary to rebuild relay positions with backups to get signals across the wastes without satellite assistance. Starting out in his early twenties, he aged as his thirty men dwindled to fifteen after ten years of work. The network was complete. However, discourse between returning home or staying with the East Coast Brotherhood split the remaining members apart. The airship had long since been scrapped into parts and no acceptable way had yet to be established for quick transportation from coast to coast.


Not wishing to stay, missing his former post, especially with ten years of gathering of radio signals and music all across the coasts, but also not wishing to march across the continent on his own, he instead decided to keep his current mission until an alternative method to return home could be secured. Since then he has independently contracted hundreds of wastelanders and towns into the construction of a network of radio stations all along the east coast until he has made his way down into Florida looking to continue his work.
 
Name: Senior Scribe Richter

Alias: Richter Frie

Age: 58

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Gear/Inventory:

- Standard laser rifle modded to be more powerful.

- 44. revolver

- Backpack full of tools and scrap bits

- PI-B Personal Intelligence Bot, a eyebot modified to take note of areas, people, technology and anything it can to document and then remind Richter about stuff he'll most likely forget, he calls it PIB

- Random bits of ammo.

- A pip boy, he found it on a dead vault dweller when he was younger and modified it so he can store data and when a patrol mission on his behalf goes out he can track their location using small chips they carry on their armour.

- A combat knife and some grenades.

Clothing: He wears BoS uniform underneath heavy BoS combat armour, he wears a scribe mask with a custom made gas mask covering up his hole face. Sometimes he'll wear some power armour but thats rare.


History: Richter from a young age being brought up by the BoS wasn't really good at fighting he couldn't get to terms with why he had to fight, he could fight fist to fist but not with weapons he couldn't get his grips on how to use them, but he could tinker and modify weapons and power armour and nearly anything.

When he was old enough instead of being a foot soldier they just made him a scribe but instead of doing what he wanted which was making things like small robots using bits of protectorons, all he had to do was go around and weld fences and make sure that reactors didn't break down.

Skip ahead a few years to the commonwealth, by this time he wasn't really sure what the brotherhoods main goal was and most of the time he was on the prydwen he would argue with elder maxon, so he built a base near by so he didn't have to speak to him or see him on a daily basis. Then he found a radio signal from some people who seemed in danger so as fast as he could he ran over but he wasn't fast enough he got there to save one robot, much to PIB's disappointment but when he got the robot workbench schematics he killed the robot and set up shop in his base, he then provided the brother hood with armies of assaultrons, protections, sentries and mr. handy's and anything he could.
 
*Note* - This is my first ever post on these forums and hope I do well!

Name - Allen Drake
Age - Mid 20's
Gender - Male
Race - Human
Eyes - Brown
Hair - Neck-length dark brown/black
Height - 6'0"
Race - Caucasian/Native American
Weight - 149 Pounds

Physical Appearance - Allen has tanned golden skin, with broad shoulders and long, strong legs. Allen looks like he is of Native American decent, but the Caucasian decent is evident. He is strikingly handsome, but has a twitch by his mouth that makes him look, well, weird. A few scars mark his body, most evidently a large scar along his left leg and a series of scars on his arms. All of the scars are from what appears to be blades, but one on his chest looks to be where a bullet hit him.

Personality - Allen is a very proud, noble man. He has a strong sense of justice. He seems quite cold at first, and he is. He is always wary of outsiders and is slow to trust even the most trustworthy of people. Once he does decide to trust you however, he is the friendliest and most caring friend you could ask for. He is intelligent, but has slim knowledge of how to act and behave in most social situations, leading to his cold and uncaring appearance.

Past - Allen was born into Caesar's Legion and trained to be a legionary since birth. Early on it was discovered that he was very fast and could run over very, very long distances, leading to him becoming a frumentarii. Allen was present at the first battle of Hoover Dam, leading a small team of scouts to a nearby ridge to counter-snipe NCR Rangers. Allen failed at this, contributing to the Legion's loss. After the battle, Allen was forced to kill his best friend during the Decimation, ordered by Caesar himself. Within a week later Allen had fled, first west and then north. He knew that he couldn't stay anywhere long as the Legion was going to be hunting him, so he headed east, past Caesar's territory, hoping to be on the complete opposite side of the NCR/Legion conflict. He soon found his way to the Midwest, and decided that that was where he would stay. He found a settlement settled by a small creek and stayed, becoming the resident hunter. When raiders started attacking the town, Allen led that defense using tactics he learned from his time in the Legion. After a few years, Allen was attacked by an assassin sent by the Legion. The assassin had helped the raiders into the settlement in exchange for their service to Caesar, and the town was burned to the ground. Allen fled, and vowed never to settle down anywhere and endangering the lives of innocents. He found his way east and soon started doing contracts for small settlements in exchange for a few days food and shelter. He came at odds against the Brotherhood of Steel at one point, but for the most part stayed away from large military presences such as theirs, being forced to relive the memories of what happened the last time he was in any sort of military.

Equipment - Allen wears an a trench coat with light Legion-style armor underneath. He also wears a Legion-style face mask. Allen uses an old hunting rifle equipped with a high power scope, a machete, and a 9mm pistol. He also carries a pair of binoculars on him to scout out areas before travelling. Allen relies on Legion medical techniques, and fashions his own healing powder instead of using stimpaks and other medical supplies.

Other Items - Allen collects and uses pre-war money instead of caps, realizing that it is generally more valuable than caps. He carries around $300-$350 at a time. He also carries water and some matches.

Attributes - Allen is very quick and can run long distances as a result of his time in the Legion, allowing him to cover a lot of ground in little time. He has better eyesight than most, and has a higher intelligence than a lot of people, making him an excellent strategist and scout. Allen has less upper body strength than most, spending more time on his lower body and core.
 
Allen Drake said:
*Note* - This is my first ever post on these forums and hope I do well!

Name - Allen Drake
Age - Mid 20's
Gender - Male
Race - Human
Eyes - Brown
Hair - Neck-length dark brown/black
Height - 6'0"
Race - Caucasian/Native American
Weight - 149 Pounds

Physical Appearance - Allen has tanned golden skin, with broad shoulders and long, strong legs. Allen looks like he is of Native American decent, but the Caucasian decent is evident. He is strikingly handsome, but has a twitch by his mouth that makes him look, well, weird. A few scars mark his body, most evidently a large scar along his left leg and a series of scars on his arms. All of the scars are from what appears to be blades, but one on his chest looks to be where a bullet hit him.

Personality - Allen is a very proud, noble man. He has a strong sense of justice. He seems quite cold at first, and he is. He is always wary of outsiders and is slow to trust even the most trustworthy of people. Once he does decide to trust you however, he is the friendliest and most caring friend you could ask for. He is intelligent, but has slim knowledge of how to act and behave in most social situations, leading to his cold and uncaring appearance.

Past - Allen was born into Caesar's Legion and trained to be a legionary since birth. Early on it was discovered that he was very fast and could run over very, very long distances, leading to him becoming a frumentarii. Allen was present at the first battle of Hoover Dam, leading a small team of scouts to a nearby ridge to counter-snipe NCR Rangers. Allen failed at this, contributing to the Legion's loss. After the battle, Allen was forced to kill his best friend during the Decimation, ordered by Caesar himself. Within a week later Allen had fled, first west and then north. He knew that he couldn't stay anywhere long as the Legion was going to be hunting him, so he headed east, past Caesar's territory, hoping to be on the complete opposite side of the NCR/Legion conflict. He soon found his way to the Midwest, and decided that that was where he would stay. He found a settlement settled by a small creek and stayed, becoming the resident hunter. When raiders started attacking the town, Allen led that defense using tactics he learned from his time in the Legion. After a few years, Allen was attacked by an assassin sent by the Legion. The assassin had helped the raiders into the settlement in exchange for their service to Caesar, and the town was burned to the ground. Allen fled, and vowed never to settle down anywhere and endangering the lives of innocents. He found his way east and soon started doing contracts for small settlements in exchange for a few days food and shelter. He came at odds against the Brotherhood of Steel at one point, but for the most part stayed away from large military presences such as theirs, being forced to relive the memories of what happened the last time he was in any sort of military.

Equipment - Allen wears an a trench coat with light Legion-style armor underneath. He also wears a Legion-style face mask. Allen uses an old hunting rifle equipped with a high power scope, a machete, and a 9mm pistol. He also carries a pair of binoculars on him to scout out areas before travelling. Allen relies on Legion medical techniques, and fashions his own healing powder instead of using stimpaks and other medical supplies.

Other Items - Allen collects and uses pre-war money instead of caps, realizing that it is generally more valuable than caps. He carries around $300-$350 at a time. He also carries water and some matches.

Attributes - Allen is very quick and can run long distances as a result of his time in the Legion, allowing him to cover a lot of ground in little time. He has better eyesight than most, and has a higher intelligence than a lot of people, making him an excellent strategist and scout. Allen has less upper body strength than most, spending more time on his lower body and core.
Click to expand...

I like it! If you'd like, you should try writing this character into a bit of fan fiction, if that's your thing.
 
Name/nickname: Clubber Lang, "Dead Motor"
Age, height, weight: 42, 5'8, about 213 pounds of muscle and body fat.

Identifying features and back grounds: ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clubber Lang is a piece of shit with few redeeming qualities and a fierce addiction to psycho and buffout; he is known as a hothead and often roid rages. He is shorter than most able fighters out in the wastes but his rough upbringing has granted him a level of physical fitness and understanding of the sweet science of pugilism.

He never knew his father and his mother would never talk about him when he asked. His mom worked hard every day until she died to raise him and keep him in line but despite her best efforts some people are just born ass holes. He always did take his mothers care for granted, he grew using small animals for target practice and picking fights with the other children around him. He never had a positive male role model in his life and developed a smoking habit at a young age. Constant fights with his mom drove him to pack his shit and leave home.

Without a father figure, he never learned to talk to women and never had much luck upholding any relationship. He was turned cold against women and got involved with the wrong people. It's one thing to get involved with a drug dealer but when you're dealing with the people who cook the damn stuff and move it into NCR territory you're in a bad situation. He had made a reputation robbing and stealing from NCR citizens but he only realized how dangerous it all was when he spotted men in uniform staking out the motel they'd been set up in.

It wasn't too long before they raided the place, killing those who met them with resistance. Clubber had been much skinnier at the time and was able to stay hidden in the bathroom cabinet with his .40 ptressed up against the door. He was clumsy and knocked into a piece of plumbing under the bathroom sink, alerting a nearby NCR. He saw the troopers shadow fall over the cabinet door and knew he had to act or be taken into custody, or worse: die. He fired with little hesitation through the neck of the NCR. Killing came easy to him and as an athiest he had no reason to feel guilty. The others caught off guard and deafened by the loud shots going off in doors, he quickly took the dying man's carbine clearing out dumbfounded NCR troopers and their battle buddies. He'd taken a bullet and rushed off into the bedroom, quickly field dressing his wounds without ever letting his guard down. It was quiet in the other room. He reloaded his pistol, barking threats through the door. Only silence in the other room. He eventually gathered his wits and with his pistol level, he hesitantly pulled open the door to see everyone in the room dead.

In a nervous state, he hastily ransacked what was left of the room and took all the caps he could carry. He bagged several ounces of psycho, fitted it into his coat pockets and left the room. He left the state and gave up any hope of making it as a drug dealer. You know you're a shitty salesman when you can't sell heroin to a junkie. Moving from town to town doing mercenary work and completing odd jobs, he spent most of his caps on blacking out, falling down, and lots and lots of prostitutes. He contracted unidentified STDs and he's very pissed off.

His rough life style has caught up to him in his middle ages, older than he was from a long history of hard drugs and backbreaking dangerous labor. What he lacks in stamina, charisma, and technique he more than makes up for with his brute strength and terrifying presence.

He wears an asymmetrical leather police jacket and blue jeans. His worn and cleated combat boots decorated with blood and dust. He has a Taurus Judge at the holster on his hip which dangled from the police jacket at his side. His bandolier loaded full of 5.56 caliber bullets, another Smith & Wesson Governor in a holster on his rig. He had a shotgun belt buckled to his thigh and another strapped at the bicep around the thin steel plate armor he wore over his jacket to protect his arms. He has a sawn off double barreled shotgun in a long holster behind him, Evil Dead style. He has an M4 carbine with colt parts and a 14 inch military grade barrel for sweeping rooms usually left behind in his van.

His face was rough complected and most of the teeth in his head were chipped, cracked, and falling out. His eyes glisten menacingly behind a skull bandana around his face, he also wears a woodland camoflauged combat helmet with 'Nam style graffiti plastered on the side.

With low level schizophrenia, habitual use of 'performance enhancing drugs', muscle mass, and success as a hired gun Clubber Lang has proven a force to be reckoned with.
 
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NAME: James Elderitch
AGE: 27
GENDER: Male
RACE: Human
HEIGHT: 6'7"ft
WEIGHT: 175 lbs
HAIR: Brown
EYES: Brown

APPEARANCE: James has a pale complection due to him hiding under a mask. He doesn't get much sunlight, He stand's at a height of 6'7, Towering over most of his enemies that he meets. He has large shoulder's and a okay physical body. Scar's plague James body, showing such thing's or battle's he has gone through.

Background:James Eldridge, or The Ranger, is a human descendant of Ben Eldridge and his late wife Clem. After a brief incident outside Vault 7 about Clem being allowed entry resulted in Ben killing a guard, Clem entered in his place and Ben walked off into the desert. Clem, being a nurse, soon after she entered came to realised that no one else in the Vault had medical experience. She also discovered she was pregnant with Ben's child not long after. This child was born in the Vault and later grew up and had a family over many generations until ultimately James was born and the Vault opens. He is skilled at both hand-to-hand combat and marksmanship.


PERSONALITY
Some Consider James a Lone wolf, Not taking help from much people, He's not a Hero or Villian more of a Vigilante to most people, Once you get to know him, you'll find his soft side and he'll be friendly, He's rough on the outside but soft on the inside.

WEAPONS
Colt 1860 Army:Arguably the single most aesthetic revolver of all time, the 1860 Army also holds the distinction of being the first ergonomic, practical-weight repeating handgun. Of course, others came before — the slender, fragile .36-caliber Patterson; the overbuilt, goliath-sized .44-caliber Walker — but the 1860 was the first of the really great belt-carriable revolvers. The 1860 also served with admirable distinction during the Civil war. Today, quality reproductions are readily available from and

Bayonet: It's like any other Bayonet, Just not connected to anything and such, It is hidden in his boot.

ITEMS AND GEAR
-Stimpackx15
-Lockpick set
-Water Canteen
-Backpack
-Gas Mask
-Caps 1436
- Bottles of Nuka Colla
- Food Rations

CLOTHING
NCR Ranger Combat Armor (Including Helmet and heavy Armored Vest)
Combat Boots.


SKILLS
James is very skilled at both hand-to-hand combat and marksmanship. He is very Tech Savy with Pre-War Technology and After-War
Technology. James is very Charismatic though he never tend's to use his such skill, James know's how to picklock and such. He is also a great gambler.


HOME
Old Factory, He has furnished it with his such item's and weapons. It includes old technology from the Pre-War such as factory items.
 
this is a first character, i have absolutely no clue what im doing with any of this but im really into fallout so i figured it would be fun. any tips and help would be appreciated.



Name; Dean

Age:29

Gender:Male

Race:Human, White

Occupation: paid Assassin

Family:None

Faction:Brotherhood of steel


—Physical Appearance

Eyes: darkish green

Hair:

Height:

Weight:

Complexion:


—Personality

Very quiet and only talks when he needs to, he is a very personal person and normally sticks with himself unless traveling with a very trusted friend. He is extremely sneaky and is amazing at pickpocketing, lock picking, and stealthy takedowns. He is an excellent marksmen with rifles and handguns and is a weapons expert that usually sticks with his deliverer.


—weapons

He carries a silenced deliverer with an extended clip as his main and a gauss rifle for long shots and as a secondary. He also uses various knifes usually small daggers around 6 inches long that he carries everywhere, mostly small knifes in exception of his 12 in bowie that he keeps on the small of his bad and refuses to take it off ever.


—Items

he carries various grenades and mines that he uses to make traps, along with stempacks and rad-away. he always has a box of cigars on him along with a unique zippo lighter that he got off his first kill.


—Clothing

He wears all black leather clothes along with a light but strong black metal armor, usually wears a face mask made from a dark skinned ferrel ghoul when on missions and when in pubic is always seen in a modified version of NCR ranger armor and his BOS holotags
 
Name: James Willits
Birth Name: Lacobus
Age: 23
Race: Human
Height: 6'0
Weight: 175 lbs
Hair color: Brown
Eye color: Hazel

Appearance: Tall in his family and has a strong build from years of working on his fathers farm. James has a strong jawline and broad shoulders although strong and somewhat muscular it's hard to tell under his baggy clothes. He has a scar on his left should and the left side of his neck from being attacked by a gecko when he was 16. Although he has light skin he developed a tan from traveling in the sun for so long, and has a tattoo of brown bear on his right bicep and another tattoo on his left forearm that says "Never Forget".

Personality: James is generally quiet and is uncomfortable in large crowds or around people he doesn't know well although he does enjoy the company of family and friends when they are around. He tends to avoid conversations by answering with one word responses or just plain ignoring them. He is very resourceful, and likes to think he can see the good in everyone, but is painfully aware of the reality of the world he lives in. Taking a book out of his fathers page he tries to help people he comes across, his time wandering the wastes have given him a sharp eye and a good shot, although his loner nature can be off putting and make him seem like a jerk.

Clothes: James was born in Broken Jaw, Arizona....Legion Territory. His birth name was Lacobus and his mother was part of a tribe in southern Arizona. Her tribe were cave dwellers due to the fact that they lived in caves to evade the legion and only left to gather food. However after years of hiding, the tribals came across a vault door. Thinking it a new home, possibly a gift from the gods they opened it, and released hordes of feral ghouls and radiation. The Cave Dwellers were slaughtered and those who escaped into the outside world found themselves in legion slave collars. His mother was taken to be a slave for a low ranking legion commander at the slum known Broken Jaw. When he was born he was named Lacobus, a Latin name in proper legion fashion, and it looked like his destiny was to be a slave soldier for the hordes of the legion. By luck or maybe fate, a traveling mormon missionary caravan went to Broken Jaw with the intent of converting the legion stationed there. Lacobus' mother begged the missionaries to take her son to a better life. One of the missionaries Willits listen to her pleas approached the commander in his tent and told him he would take the child off his hands and that he could tell Lacobus was his son, and that as he got older it would only grow more apparent. It would not look good for the commander to have layed with a lowly tribal slave, much less have fathered a child. She was not a citizen of Caesar, her son would never be full legion blood and would surely taint the honorable ranks of the legion. The commander was a weak willed man, easily swayed and his superiors were already displeased, as he has been caught allowing his men to smoke and use chems, his punishment left him barley alive with a crippled leg and he was demoted and transferred the a slums of Broken Jaw where he often mocked by his inferiors. The commander gave in and sold him the baby for 3 bottles of whiskey and carton of cigarettes. Lacobus was renamed James Willits and he was taken to a farming town in northern California called White Rock. He was adopted by the sheriff a former desert ranger and his wife and they raised as their own. James loved his parents and his town, and even though he was a loner he made a few friends wrestling at the towns school. Things weren't always to great in White Rock however. When James was 13 a group of raiders, strange men wearing blue suits with a yellow 5 on the back armed with laser rifles and grenades attacked the town. James' adopted father and a few ranch hands managed to kill a few, luckily the strange raiders didn't know much about fighting and they got scared and ran off. A few days later 2 or 3 NCR rangers in black armor came into town and tracked the raiders. They never had trouble from them again. At 16 James was now almost considered a man, and he travelled more often. During one of his outing and he saw a strange creature emerge out of a cave. It looked like a bear on the ncr flag but this one had only one head and it looked starved and weak. It wasn't a Yao Guai like the ones that he heard about in Utah or the capital wasteland, this creature was like a human that was half way ghoul. James tried to approach it but suddenly a pack of geckos jumped the bear like animal. It killed 4 of the geckos but it was overrun by them. James tried to run but he tripped over a rock on the ground and fell. A gecko lunged at him and bit his shoulder, as James fumbled for his Bowie knife. He stabbed the ferocious creature several times in face until it stopped breathing and he turned his attention to the others. There were 5 of them and as they closed in on him he called for help. The largest of them rushed him and struck the side of his neck with its claw and knocked him the ground. James tried to stem the flow of blood, as the rest ran at him. Then several gunshots rang out. His father heard the cries for help and ran out with his rifle. After that James knew he had to become more vigilant when traveling, but he never found out what that bear like creature he found was. It spiked his curiosity and he wanted to find out what else was in the wasteland. When James turned 19 he told his parents he was leaving to travel the wastes. Although they weren't happy with it they supported him, giving him some extra caps and his fathers old rifle.

Clothes: A high collared brown coat, over a a dark blue shirt. He wears a shemagh around his neck, a wide brimmed cowboy hat and aviator shades along with jeans and cowboy boots.

Weapons: colt.45 pistol, a scoped hunting rifle, and a Bowie knife

Miscellaneous: An Alice pack, a sleeping roll, a few water purifying tablets (cost him almost a fortune), some assorted roots and leaves, a Geiger counter, a compass, a few caps and ncr dollars, a small cooking pot, a box of matches, a bottle of water, a compass, a gieger counter, and a sometimes accurate map with important locations such as new vegas, reno, the capital wasteland ect

Skill: A good enough shot, made some decent caps killing small groups of raiders, and hunting vermin, knows how to live off the land (making healing powder etc.)

Home: His adopted parents have a ranch in California but he sleeps in whatever room he rented or some ditch on the side of the road.
 
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Hope these forums aren’t dead

Name: Lucas McCain

Age: 29

Gender: Male

Race/Ethnicity: Human / Hispanic

Occupation: Weaponsmith and salesman

Family: Unknown. (See backstory)

Faction: Followers of the Apocalypse

Physical Appearance:
-Eyes: Light Brown
-Hair: Dark Brown
-Height: 6 foot
-Weight: 200
-Complexion: Clear

Personality Traits: Cunning, helpful but cautious, not to smart but wise, not very expressive, quite type unless he has something on his mind.

Backstory: Lucas was born in Dever CO to Aaron McCain and Ruth Decarte. They were members of a small chapter of the Followers of the Apocalypse in CO. They were decent parents. They cared for him and did there best to teach him the ways of the wastes. Unfortunately before his 3rd birthday, his parents and many in his company were caught in the crossfire of a skirmish between Ceaser’s Legion and a local raider group. Afterwards the group decided to band together and raise McCain as their own. They traveled southwest down past the Dayglow to throw off the Leigon and settled down near what was once Chula Vista CA. Lucas was raised mostly by an old gunsmith and gunslinger by the name of Coffee. Lucas was fascinated with guns and took a special affinity to level action rifles. He became Coffee’s apprentice and got pretty handy with repair and upgrading firearms. When he turned 25 he decided to head east out to the wastes and make a name for himself as well as spread the word of the Followers.

Inventory:
-Weapons:
Winchester model 1892 replica chambered for .357
Colt Single Action Army revolver also in .357
Survival knife with his name engraved on the handle
Holdout Ruger Mk. III firing .22 lr

-Items
5 Stimpaks
12 Sunset Sarsaparilla
122 rounds of .357
26 rounds of .38 Special hollowpoints
12 rounds of .22lr
2 cans of pork n beans
A water skin
Tools for reloading rounds
3 .357 cases
10 Pistol firing pins
10 powder for pistols

-Clothing
A set of decent leather armor
A pair of scratched glasses
A desperado cowboy hat
A set of dirty farmhand clothes
A necklace made of a dud 9mm bullet on a leather strap
 

Name: Raphael Lee

Age: 32

Sex: male

Physical Description:6’0” 150 pounds light skin, auburn hair kept in a short mess. Hazel eyes with a wizened look.

Background: born a dweller of vault 55 the only thing you could even deem entertainment was a bible handed down by the family. As soon as he could read Raphael would read the book of the lord front to back as a pastime, and believes it’s teachings to be the only proper way to live. At age 16 he left at he would put it, “The drab and purgatory like state of vault life” to bring the word of god to the wastes.After meeting the cruel flora and fauna of the wastes he made his way stumbling and bleeding into the nearest town. repaying the doc with odd jobs and teaching them the ways of god.

Personality Raph is a bit uneducated in the ways of the wastes, but loves to learn, he would see no reason to be hostile with factions such as the followers of the apocalypse. his only goals in life are to learn and spread the word of god. Raph despises mutants and believes them to be abominations, killing most on sight. he believes ghouls to be damned by god, given a horrible visage and a lifespan to make them think about their sins. raph only attacks with good reason, such as being attacked first or being confronted with an abomination to god (mutants, heresy, etc)


Equipment: bible, cross necklace made from scrap, 10mm pistol, vault suit, pip boy 3000, knapsack with a canteen strapped to the side.
 
My Character

Name: Octavius Flavius
Age: 26
Occupation: Octavius is a cult leader who leads the Children of Zeus, a cult similar to the cult of mars but ones who do not hate machines as such he left Caesars Legion to start a new. He always has someone with him to carry his umbrella.

Appearance
Height: 178cm
Weight: looks slim(unknown)
Race: Human
Hair: Chestnut
Eye Colour: Blue

Octavius has pale skin which burns easily

Personality: Octavius has a quick tongue and is a skilled manipulator coercing many people to his side. He is not afraid to step on other people to get what he wants with his ruthless determination. Octavius loves being surrounded by his followers and does not like being alone. One of the main reasons he started his cult was to bring chaos to an already chaotic world. Octavius also like to live in luxury and hates sleeping outside.

Weapons: the only weapons Octavius holds are his words and wits and gets others to do his dirty work for him. But if someone ever gets to close for comfort he whips out his serrated combat knife.

Items:
-Serrated combat knife
-Backpack
-Water canteen
-Large amount of caps(stolen)
-First aid kit
-Rations for long trips

Clothing:
-a well made white toga
-sandals with socks
-a ring to show his nobility
-a full set of combat armour if needed

Skills: Octavius has a remarkable way with words and an intelligence to boot but sorely lacking in the strength department is able to soothe the most dangerous beasts and talk his way out of many situations. Octavius love animals as such he like to keep at least one animal with him at a time to keep him company.

Home: His cult main base is an old mansion partly damaged, but makeshift wood covers the damaged areas, with 10 bedrooms to house cultists, an underground prison/slave pen for sacrifice and other things.
 
Name: Clyde "Cyan" Barren

Age:16

Sex:M

Physical Appearance:
Clyde is a husky young man, weighing 166 pounds despite only being 5'10 feet tall and fairly wide --having a low and dense center of gravity he naturally favors the higher caliber weapons. He has fluffy brown hair that he always greases back with whatever (potentially radioactive) sludge is around. He has piercing turquoise-ish eyes (this being where he got his nickname) coupled with a moderate nose, thin eyebrows, and a defined (distinctly aryan) jawline. And though he is young, due to his life-long exposure to the wastes he looks old enough to be mistakenly drafted into any local militia.

Per-so-nal-i-ty:
Though he is of young age, his early fascination with psychology has allowed him to become a renowned swindler to both the local vendors, and fathers of any settlement he stays in for a long enough period of time. He is extremely charismatic, making allies and dissuading any past foes wherever he sets foot. Though he finds it extremely easy to socialize he finds it much harder to make any meaningful relationships due to the deep coldness he's developed as a result of some generic tragic event in his past that could easily be found in a tumblr "ohh scee" sheet.
His only friend being a ghoul known as Nascu.

Apparel:
Clyde generally tends to wear a light armor complex consisting of an old weathered soviet (6B2) flak vest and a few small bulletproof resin plates. On top of this he wears a worn B-3 bomber jacket with a sewn piece of thick leather on the right shoulder to cradle a rifle sling.
For lower garments he sports heavily damaged jeans, jury-rigged together with thin untreated scraps of various leathers/hides, along with that he has a unique extended metal plate suspended just above the right hip to act as a buffer pad to directly absorb all the recoil from hip-firing. Finally his attire ends with a pair of aged steel-toed logger boots, modified with spikes for intimidation and lightened to allow comfortable running.

Possessions:
Though Clyde does not own much to his name, he generally tends to have a canvas bag handy to carry whatever he may find.
Although he does have a small number of items that are essential to who he is as a person, these items are:
-Keepsake watch constructed from nixie tubes that belonged to his father.
-Casing of the first bullet he ever fired (engraved with date and name).
-Corked champagne bottle used to collect hair products.
________________________________________________________
In addition to these he has a number of weapons used to keep himself alive on a day-to-day basis, consisting of:
-A modified m1918 BAR converted to have a fixed magazine and take en-blocks for more efficient reloads, with an added dust cover, carry handle, heat shield and shortened barrel.
-A handmade MP38 created out of parts-kits and conveniently-shaped scrap, rechambered for .45 ACP --taking grease gun magazines.
-A Ukrainian AK bayonet with a blade-length of six inches.
-A large rusty machete made from an old lawnmower blade

Place of origin: The irradiated woodlands of the southern mid-west
 
Last edited:
Name: Nascu

Race: Ghoul

Birthdate: 2045

Sex: Male
_____________________________________

Appearance: A 6'7" 'jumbo ghoul' that has spent over 100 years ruthlessly exercising and living solely off of Porn n' Beans. His "skin" is mostly just muscle, reason being that most of it had burnt or fell off already; however he still has a few patches of epidermis left on his face.

Apparel: Heavy chest plate and shoulder pads made from 4cm thick steel plates, worn over an M69 fragmentation vest. a large hide belt with a Texas license plate used as a buckle, an M31 Rucksack with a duffel bag tied to the bottom of it, his forearms are wrapped with loads of leather strap to function as bracers. He's got trousers made of thick canvas that lead down to Steel-plated knee and shin guards that are attached to his boots.

Items:
A medkit with a handfull of stimpaks
Some buffout
A spare 30lb weight
Multiple cans of Pork n' Beans
2 bottles of Nuka-Cola

Weapons:
M79 grenade launcher with a cut-down stock
S&W model 29 with a 6' barrel
Browning 1919A4 with a cloth handguard wrapped around the barrel
Sledgehammer with a shortened grip
__________________________________________

Skills: Nascu has a thing for boomsticks, and is proficient in the realm of suppressive fire.
Due to his absolute SWOLEness, he's able to handle melee weapons with relative ease.
He also has a decent amount of knowledge from his pre-war days, having at least a high-school education.

Origin: He just woke up next to a gym after the nukes fell, doesn't remember much of his past.
 
MY CHARACTER:
NAME:Marian
AGE:244, Great War survivor
RACE:Ghoul (Intelligent)
HEIGHT:7"
WEIGHT:100lb
EYES:Red
OCCUPATION:Budding Historian and Wanderer

APPEARANCE:A freakishly tall, slim, and otherwise ugly Ghoul, he wears some robes and stands tall, holding (Or atleast keeping visible), only a couple of things. He seems very interested in the world and will often just stare out. His skin bleeds of a green-ish colour.

PERSONALITY:Marian is witty, amicable, and intriguing, for ghouls at least: He will do anything to write down any of the rich history that has been built in the wastelands, right in front of his eyes. He is a well cultured and versed man, with intelligent words and his remarcable british accent. He likes banter and tends to make friends with people fast due to his strange welcomeness, unusual to the wasteland. He will however make himself be respected if it does come to it; 200+ years in the wastelands will teach you such things.

WEAPONS:Marian tends to be a bit more, refined in his combat. He uses a variety of Plasma and laser weapons, mostly pistols. He keeps them well hidden howver to not scare off particularly talkative strangers. He has A Plasma Defender, Laser Pistol, and Plasma Pistol. He also carries around a special scalpel he found on the body of a doctor who had taken up butchering his victims instead of healing them. It is extremely sharp and ornate. Comaparable to a combat knife.

ITEMS:
-Flask with liquor
-Books, tons of em
-Notepads and pens
-Lockpicking sets
-Stimpacks
-Raw meat for animals
-Pipboy 2000
-Lighter
-Weapons and ammo packs for said weapons
-A Vest for bullet protection
-Badge of recognised historian

SKILLS: Well, being an historian and all hes got skills to do his job, passionatly. He has taken up lockpicking due to him HAVING to get into certain places. By God! It is necessary. He understands computers as he was a young man in their hay day. He can recall many many things from history and the war. He knows how to survive the wastes after having done so for 200 years. He knows how to wield laser and plasma weapons. He is oddly charming and silver-tounged

HOME:Nowhere is home for this travelling feller. He goes and goes, until a discovery is made

ORIGIN: British Immigrant. Historian and family man. One day the nukes fell and he was... well a ghoul. He soon discovered the sustainability of his body and recognised the greatness of it. He wanders the waste trying to do whats right, and to let his family be proud
 
Name: Viper
Real Name: Jackson
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Eye color: Blue
Hair color: Blond
Height: 6 foot 5 inches
Faction: Brotherhood of steel
Rank: Knight
Family: Unknown
Skin Color: Caucasian
Race: Human
Weight: 230 pounds
Origin: prewar special forces

Personality: Will not back down from a fight unless he is ordered to. He knows just enough to impress people but do to his special forces background he shares his knowledge only with those he trusts. He also has a dark sense of humor and loves to see things blow up.

Weapons: Any weapon that uses fusion and his chinese officer sword. However his favorite weapon to use is his gatling laser.

Clothing: BOS Jumpsuit, Sunglasses, and a military cap. But the majority of the time he is in his T-60 power armor

Items: 40 fusion cores, 30 stimpacks, Veteran Ranger armor (for when he goes to do illegal things), Plenty of radstag meat.
 
Name: Viper
Real Name: Jackson
Age: 226 (He was put in a cryo pod just like the sole survivor)
Gender: Male
Eye color: Blue
Hair color: Blond
Height: 6 foot 5 inches
Faction: Brotherhood of steel
Rank: Knight
Family: Unknown
Skin Color: Caucasian
Race: Human
Weight: 230 pounds
Origin: prewar special forces

Personality: Will not back down from a fight unless he is ordered to. He knows just enough to impress people but do to his special forces background he shares his knowledge only with those he trusts. He also has a dark sense of humor and loves to see things blow up.

Weapons: Any weapon that uses fusion and his chinese officer sword. However his favorite weapon to use is his gatling laser.

Clothing: BOS Jumpsuit, Sunglasses, and a military cap. But the majority of the time he is in his T-60 power armor

Items: 40 fusion cores, 30 stimpacks, Veteran Ranger armor (for when he goes to do illegal things), Plenty of radstag meat, Pip boy 2000, hunting knife.
 
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