Name: Alicia Tennison

Age: 29

Appearance: Alicia is tall. Very tall. Standing at about seven feet and four inches. Just as well, she is quite muscular(though not hideously so. She still retains a feminine figure), though whether this owes to the massive amount of buffout she took as a child or mutation remains to be seen. Between her commanding height and large frame there isn't much tougher than her, save super mutants and deathclaws. Her Dark-skinned body is covered in myriad scars from a lifetime of bloodshed, as well as a large amount of tally-mark scars in her left bicep. As for her face, she has tough, sharp features, framed by her long dark brown hair. And while she isn't going to be winning any beauty pageants, she is quite pretty in her own way (Not very much can be said about her personality, however). Her face is not spared from the abuse her body has taken, and she bears three deep scars on her left cheek, in lines like animal claws.

Important note, Her chest is a modest B cup. Why is this important? She's VERY insecure on the subject for whatever reason. Likely the only aspect of her physical appearance she actually seems to care about. Say anything at your peril.

Race: Human

Skills: Unarmed, Melee, Survival.
STR: 10 PER: 6 END: 9 CHA: 1 INT: 4 AGL: 8 LCK: 2

Perks: 

1) Bloody Mess: Oddly enough, any killing blows Alicia inflicts seem to be greatly exaggerated. Expect body parts to be flying. Also, she seems to deal just a bit more hurt. Fun!

2) Slayer: Alicia's manic glee/frothing rage in combat make her awfully 'enthusiastic.' She just seems to be faster in close combat than most.

3) Trait (is this okay?): Built to destroy: On that same token, that 'enthusiasm' makes her a little more likely to inflict killing blows, but she's awfully hard on her gear.

Equipment: Serpentbane (Alicia created this weapon from various hand-tools found in the New Vegas steelworks after her escape, and promptly used it to murder every last one of the vipers that tormented her. Nearly identical to the 'Man-opener' auto-axes found in Pittsburgh), 'Shredder's hand' (an industrial hand that once belonged to a marked man named Shredder. Differs from a normal industrial hand only in its red color), 'Berzerker' Riot gear (Modified riot gear, decorated with various 'trophies,' bloodstains, and spiky bits. The suit is in poor repair, and the helmet and left arm are missing. In game terms: Max DT: 19, END +1, Melee +5, Unarmed +5), about 10 Slasher hypos, various foodstuffs, three bottles of Nuka-Cola, and a combat knife (used more for utility than anything)

Personality: Alicia's personality is... Unique. She is Vulgar, Violent, Morbid, Hateful, and just plain rude. She does not fit very well in greater society, as most wastelanders view her as just another chem-crazed marauder. Ironically, she despises raiders, and is often driven to a frenzy at the sight of them, and she isn't especially fond of ghouls either due to her experiences with marked men, but she can control herself in their presence. She can however act like a snarling ball of barely contained fury at times (Truth be told that's exactly what she is). However, an important note in understanding is that her current state is a result of her own actions, and her vengeful nature arose out of a desire for no innocent person to feel what she had endured. In a way, a sort of love is what drives her to such violence on those that prey on the weak. Oddly enough, NCR personnel (especially troopers) seem to have a calming effect on her, and she seems to act more docile in their presence. Lately she has been more conscious of her belligerent nature, and is scared she'll get even worse than she already is. 

Bio: [hider= The Brutal Ballad of Alicia Tennison] Alicia Tennison was born to Al and Tonya Tennison, a pair of former vault-dwellers turned brahmin ranchers. Always big for her age, she would help with all the hard labor that was expected from such a lifestyle. Life was good. It was hard sometimes but they rarely ran out of food and weren't often attacked by raiders. Until one night. Alicia barely remembers anything about that night. She went to bed, and awoke in a burlap sack. After about an hour of struggling and screaming she eventually gave up on that, much to the appreciation of the raiders. 

As it turned out, she had been captured by Vipers. They had planned to sell her off to slavers or maybe just take a few 'turns' with her and throw her in a ditch but their leader took a shine to her. She had basically become the raider camps' 'entertainment'. Apparently they had recently raided a caravan bringing various medical supplies to the followers back in the boneyard, and one of the bastards knew how to turn it into chems. Particularly, buffout and psycho. What they would do was they would load her up on buffout and psycho and have her fight the dogs. Naturally, she soon more or less devolved into a rabid beast as the combined trauma of the chems and abuse wore at her mind. 

After five years of this, she became strong, very strong. They had even needed to gather animals stronger than dogs, as Alicia would almost effortlessly kill them. Radscorpions, geckos, the occasional poor bastard they pulled off the road, etc. Eventually, they had brought in an NCR grunt and set him up against her. However, as Alicia moved in to kill him, something changed. She noticed the man cowering in the corner of the arena, looking up at her with fear in his eyes. maybe she felt she couldn't kill him, or maybe he reminded her of who she used to be, but she could not bear to kill him. The Viper's were outraged, and the leader had the man shot and personally beat her back into her cage with a cattle prod. 

That night she thought about things other than her next kill for the first time in years. Chief among them, escaping. The cage Was old, and it didn't take much for her altered physique to rip the rusted gate off its hinges. Thankfully, the vipers save for one lone sentry were off raiding, and it took an equally small amount of effort to beat the sentry to death with the gate. After that, she ran. Eventually, she took shelter in the New Vegas Steel building, and slept there for the day. When she awoke, she was consumed by thoughts of violent anger. If she didn't go back and kill those vipers they'd just... do more! Try as she might, the excessive bloodlust she had acquired over the years rendered her unable to just keep running. So in a rare fit of brilliance she took one of the steel-saws and affixed various sharp metal bits with a welding gun.She now had a device of spinning death on her hands, and it would do nicely. 

The rest, as they say, is history. She returned and slaughtered the Vipers, and after that, she wandered. Scavenging what she could she roamed, searching for more to kill in her new quest to rid the earth of such scum. She never really had much time for friends or the like, not that anyone would want to spend time with her. Years later, she had made a name for herself as an unstoppable engine of vengeance, and if you needed raiders as dead as could be you looked for her. However, one night she noticed a nightmarish explosion off to the east. She couldn't help but want to explore, and after several weeks of walking she found quite possibly the closest thing to hell she would ever encounter on earth. The Divide.

There isn't much to recount about her travels in the divide, other than that she viewed it as a challenge. That nothing could stop her. What she found terrified her. When she encountered the marked men, it was almost like looking in a mirror. These creatures were fueled by hatred and rage, just like she was. They reminded her of what she was before the grunt, and she decided she would do all she could to destroy them. Naturally, the Divide proved too tough a foe for her, and while she thinned the Marked men as much as she could, killed a deathclaw with her bear hands, and got some new toys in the process she got the idea that this place was not her responsibility. Like someone else was fated to tame this land... or something. 

Apparently, Powerful people had heard of her skills in the art of destruction, and she soon received a package at her shack in goodsprings (Well, more like the outskirts. The locals appreciated how she was like a bandit repulsor, but didn't really want her in town). The package contained orders to visit the Lucky 38 to receive further instructions. Well if Mr. House wanted something from her, she bet he'd pay really damn well. And her purse was pretty light as it is. So, that's where she's headed. [/hider]