[center][b]Name:[/b] Henry Direson
[b]Race: [/b]African-American Human
[b]Age:[/b] 32
[b]Height: [/b]5'7"
[b]Weight:[/b] 150

[b]Appearance: [/b]Henry is a well shaven handsome chap, short black hair with cuts and scars on his crown from an unpleasant experience with a super mutant whose nails [i]really[/i] needed a cut. His blue eyes would peirce the wall of dark Henry likes to hide in if it weren't for his shades; he wears a long black trench coat with black military boots, dark green dyed leather armor beneath a dark blue shirt and a grey weathered baseball cap which he turns backward when he is using his rifle. His black loose military-camo trousers have many pockets and straps.

[b]Equipment: [/b]As well as the above apparell, Henry has a medium sized rucksack with primary and secondary storage areas - as well as a few pockets. He keeps food and water supplies in his primary , along with a few repair kits and practicals like a hammer, saw, wonderglue and his hatchet in its sleeve. He also keeps the more valueable peices that he finds and/or takes from others in his primary. In his secondary are a few changes of clothes, his cooking equipment and ammo as well as a handful of RadAway and Stimpacks. The various pockets of his rucksack have bottle caps and cigarretes in them, the pockets of his trousers, however, are mostly filled with ammo and his left side hip pocket contains his camera.
[b]Weapons:[/b]
9MM pistol, laser sight, improved iron sights. ( 10 magazines of 13)
Marksman carbine no-scope - 5.56 mm rounds. ( 4 magazines of 20)
Sniper Rifle - .308 rounds. Silencer or flash suppresser. (3 magazines of 5)

[b]Specializations: [/b]Henry is a deadly shot. His aim is unwavering at long distances, but does begin to weaken at close range.
[b]Other:[/b] He has a thing for lots of pockets.
[b]Negative Attributes:[/b] Henry is terrible in any hand-to-hand combat and isn't too good a shot if the target is with spitting distance.
[b]Biography: [/b]
With no military training of any kind Henry is a self taught marksman. Being brought up by a traveling trader he had plenty of time to practice his shot and learn how to deal with money, as well as trouble. Although the trader was not his father, he did know that his father was a military man of some kind who had left him with the trader - along with a large sack of bottle caps and money. When he turned 18 Henry was given this large amount of money, which the trader had so kindly added to over the years, and went out into the world.

Around ten years ago now, Henry found out that Phil had been killed by a ruthless gang of Caesars bastards. He has worn to kill every last legionary he sets his eyes upon. At first Henry travelled around, killing the scum of the land as he went.
 Age, however, grants wisdom. Henry found himself being overcome with bloodlust and so fought against his inner ambitions and settled down; close enough to Memphis to trade and find supplies but far enough from people he is afraid he may harm - atop a collapsed freeway inside a small home of which he has made himself comfortable. 

His home is humble and looks up towards what star light there is left. Basically a lot of cars piled up upon each other in square shape, with a few ramps and firing holes. His tent and fire place stay in the centre - beneath a makeshift canopy. A few crates and boxes lay scattered around with various items inside of no substantial value. He liberated the place from a few wasteland raider: who had been picking off passers by from the many sniping nests the area provided. [/center]