Tada! Might do some formatting and flesh out her gear a little more, but the major details are down. :) [hider=You Got a Problem, Smoothskin?] Name: Osprey / Lt. Naomi Goldwater Race: Ghoul Gender: Female Age: 238 [u]What Makes You Special?[/u] Strength: 5 Perception: 8 Endurance: 6 Charisma: 4 Intelligence: 5 Agility: 6 Luck: 6 [u]Skills [/u] Guts - 2 Athletics - 3 [b][.][/b]Energy Weapons - 1+2=3 Explosives - 2 [b][.][/b]Piloting - 1+2=3 Sneaky - 2 [b][.][/b]Repair - 0+2=2 Survival - 3 [u]Personality[/u] As self-assured as she is abrasive, a rebel without a cause who's been around far too long to care what other people think of her. You got a problem with that? You can kiss her pale green ass. Osprey is a curious mix of military bravado and bluntness that can be difficult to get along with, as she has little interest in meeting others halfway. A kinder soul would probably say she is straightforward, preferring gut instinct to any heady philosophy and with little patience for those who would moralize away any obvious wrongdoings. She is, as she is proud to say, "the asshole who will get the damn job done". Dig a little deeper though, and under that caustic exterior you'll find she's no jackbooted thug, harboring a soft spot for animals and a curious sort of patriotism despite those who have tainted the memory of Old America. Most of all however, you'll find a true friend who will always have your back when everyone else has turned tail, even if she'll be happy to turn around and kick your tail if she thinks you're in the wrong. Just make sure you remember to call her Osprey. She earned that name damn it. [u]Background[/u] Naomi Goldwater. First Lieutenant. One Nine Four, Two Eight, Four Two. It's the first concrete memory that Osprey knows is hers. On a good day, sometimes she'll remember more; her grip on the control stick, the crushing g-forces, the patriotic tunes, the medals pinned to her chest. On a bad day, she'll remember the bright flash, the screaming, the burning, before it all went silent with a loud crash. But most of all, she remembers stumbling out of that wreckage, muttering her name rank and serial number for when the Chinese captured her, thinking somewhere in her shattered mind that the horde was on the way. Of course, they never came, but in her fugue state she was rescued by other survivors from the emerging wasteland somewhere in Montana, and as thanks stuck around for a few decades, using her military experience to organize scavengers and patrols to help secure the burgeoning settlement. Decades passed as the scattered settlement grew into a town, and as news trickled in from the outside, Osprey learned something unbelievable. The United States was still alive, working to reclaim the wasteland for the good old red white and blue! Knowing that she was leaving the town in good hands, Osprey and a couple fellow ghouls from the old military banded together and headed out in search of this 'enclave', taking a perilous journey across the Rockies to reach the west coast, where the headquarters of the new United States was rumored to be located. Some of them were in military intelligence and knew where the bunkers and the secrets were located, so when they finally passed through New Reno, it was easy to locate that enclave's base and report for duty. Osprey was the only survivor, escaping to the sound of laser fire and the full-throated shouts of Enclave troopers proudly purging the wasteland of 'muties' like her. It broke the proud soldier in her, or maybe just reminded her that she was never a proud soldier to begin with, and she fled back east into the mountains, wandering for another few decades between settlements, taking whatever odd jobs came her way, settling into doing what she could for the little guy, and hoping she could warn away any other fellow ghouls from what happened in the West. Many years later, upon hearing that the Enclave had been destroyed, she went back West to see for herself and found another surprise; a new nation to the south called the New California Republic, made in the image of the country she once served. While too jaded to accept this at face value thanks to her experience with the Enclave, she still decided to head South and do her part, heading where she was needed and doing a myriad of odd jobs, working in law enforcement, as a caravan guard, a military advisor, a merchant, a mechanic, and even for one strange moment a politician. With all that under her belt, it was fairly simple to secure herself passage on the Green Horizon, nominally in her advisory roll to the NCR, but in truth for a more personal mission. There could be more of her kind out on those islands, lost soldiers like her looking for a cause. And a gut feeling told her that this Kingdom was important to her before the bombs fell all those years ago... [u]Equipment [/u] Osprey's Armor: Modified Ranger patrol armor painted blue instead of the usual brown, paired with a light duster and gloves. Also includes her lucky beret and aviators. Plasma Defender: A recent replacement for her old plasma pistol after almost two centuries of use, and while she misses that old hunk of junk, the Defender ain't half bad as a replacement. Sturdy, faster firing, more accurate, and just as good at putting down hostiles as well as smacking sense into some idiot with the back end. Grenade Rifle: Not exactly a practical backup, but damn if it isn't fun to use. 2000 caps: For a rainy day. Ammo Satchels: The Defender chews through power cells on the best of days. But in between the 40mm nades and the cells, it's pretty good for carrying medical supplies and other tools. Combat Knife: Over two hundred years at her side and it hasn't let her down yet. Dog Tags: For the fallen. [/hider]