[hider=Preidaho][img]http://i1367.photobucket.com/albums/r782/Viper_killian/Fallout%20Rebirth%20of%20the%20Enclave/hxoydkl0_zps566c1d16.jpg[/img][/hider]
[img]http://i1367.photobucket.com/albums/r782/Viper_killian/fallout%20stuff/face_study_by_stevegoad-d4fjbff_zps85b35965.jpg[/img]
Agent Name: Melanie Briess
Agent Code Name: “Whisper”
Age:32
Gender: Female
 Under the mask, there are several scars from knives and teeth.
Armor: [hider=PreIdaho] Her old [url=http://static-3.nexusmods.com/15/mods/130/images/35176-1-1295912511.png]Desert Ranger[/url] armor, and her gas mask. The insignias have been removed and replaced with those of the Enclave.[/hider]

Post Idaho: Her armor is now an enclave-made combat armor, a hood built into it, and goggles. She always keeps her gasmask on her person, but rarely wears it nowadays. The armor is reinforced and will let her take a few more hits while keeping high on mobility.
Clothing: Often wears a tank top and baggy cargo pants with high tops.
Weapons:
-A large, razor sharp [url=http://images.knifecenter.com/thumb/1500x1500/knifecenter/ontario/images/ON18a.jpg]U.S. Military Machete[/url]
-Razor sharp [url=http://static-2.nexusmods.com/15/mods/120/images/7728-1-1247492722.jpg]military tomahawk[/url] that is balanced for throwing.
-Her [url=http://static-2.nexusmods.com/15/mods/130/images/42023-1-1306425744.jpg]personal rifle[/url] from the NCR that she has rechambered for 12.7MM rounds and made fully automatic.
Miscellaneous items: Bottle of pills issued from the Enclave to curb her more violent dreams.

Forces of habit: Often can be found talking to herself under her breath. Mel also has an uncanny amount of memory recall, and can remember the slightest details of a previous situation from ten years ago. She also takes pleasure in seeing violence and death, especially blood. Mel is approachable outside of missions, but hardly speaks unless necessary to her fellows or when she is thanking somebody. She is also known to just disappear from right beside people unpredictably. Tends to have horrifying dreams and sleepwalks.

Biography: Melanie was born into a small community near the border to canada, just a few hundred miles north of NCR territory. The town's name was Waterbank and it was the last bastion of the desert rangers. The citizens that made their home here were completely opposed to the NCR, descendants of the fabled Desert Rangers that were forced to join the NCR and fall under their expansionist greed. Many of the Desert Rangers resented them, and because of this, they went north to continue their work. The community was a little less than a hundred people and every single one of them was a trained soldier. Melanie was one of them, a proud Desert Ranger that was shown how to fight harder and better than any NCR Ranger Veteran out there, but she dreamed of leaving. By the time she was twenty, she was dreaming of exploring and seeing the world for herself, but something within her made her stay. Then...the mutants came. They were ruthless, coming from the west out of Seattle, they poured into the town and started a war with the Desert Rangers. They were able to hold them off for a very long time, six months. They were beginning to be brave and would sometimes send squads into mutant territory to kill as many as they could. Melanie was often part of the group. One excursion into their territory would change her life forever.

She and three of her friends were sent into a junk yard to clear out the muties and come back. A simple mission in thought, but something was different. When they entered the junkyard, weapons ready, it was quiet. Too quiet...they spread out to try and find out why it was so quiet. A scream would make her run to the other side of the yard, rifle at the ready. When she arrived with her other two squadmates, the scream had come from the bloodied corpse of a dead squadmate. His head was crushed and his body battered. They became scared and started to stick together, but that didn't matter. Just as they turned a corner, Melanie was hit hard with something, a fist made of concrete? A car? She didn't know, but she was thrown back through a car window and her skull was fractured.

When she awoke several hours later, she had no clue what happened nor any clue where she was. When she sat up and looked out of the car all she saw was blood. Her friends, strung up, parts placed into bags, intestines strewn everywhere, mutants walking around like nothing happened, clubs resting on their shoulders, guns on their backs...something inside her, something deep and dark inside her, snapped. She kicked the car door open and burst out, letting loose a blood curdling scream, firing her rifle on everything and everyone. The mutants didn't know what hit them and they dropped like flies...

After the incident...she wasn't the same. Returning home, she saw nothing but the faces of those she had lost, her closest friends. Dreams tormented her in both waking and sleeping hours. At one point, she disappeared from Waterbank, heading north. Part of her wanted to stay and slaughter every mutant, but the other side of her...forced her to leave, to get away, to try and let time heal her...unfortunately time would be something that wouldn't heal her at all. She found a new settlement in Canada, another couple hundred miles into the frozen tundra. They thought she was an NCR ranger and took her in immediately, she didn't object as they treated her with respect, but something in her made her want to kill every last one of them. She started to grow anxious, her hand was constantly on the handle of her machete and every person made her jump.

One night...she woke from a deep sleep, rested and relaxed, but she smelled strange. She went outside to try and see what was on her that made her smell strange and she screamed and fell to her knees. The moonlight glistened off of her clothing, massive amounts of blood covering her from head to toe. She looked around and saw the bodies of the townspeople all slaughtered. Mothers, fathers, children, elderly...all dead. She felt her face as pain tore across it and her finger slipped into a nasty wound. She screamed again and ran from the town, afraid of what she would do next.

She didn't know what she would do next. She ran for what seemed forever. Her wounds healed, but left scars. She found a gasmask and hid her face from those that she would meet. She never took it off. At one point in her travels she found an old shack. Heading inside she found that it had been the entrance to a small bunker. Inside there was plenty of food and water, it's original inhabitants having died long ago. She stayed there, alone. She was not bothered and finally came to peace with herself for the time being...that is until somebody...knocked on her door? The man in the uniform waiting on the other side would change her life forever and would be the first step to a real recovery, though she would never fully heal. Not killing everybody around her was a good start.

She joined the Enclave happily, quickly learning that their scientists could heal her skull, which had still never healed properly. She was helped and given a type of drug that stopped her from dreaming. But she had to give something back, something that would put her right back into the mental battlefield, she had to perform on the real battlefield...she didn't object too much at first and reveled in it after a while as with every kill she made, whether raider or animal...she grew more lustful for violence. Her inner being was being appeased by the carving of skulls. She rarely used her rifle anymore as she just used her two melee weapons to kill. To her there was something almost...sexual to killing somebody, extinguishing a life. She knew that she did not used to be like this and a more innocent side of her tried, constantly, to take back over. But it could do little to overcome the pleasure of death on her hands. After several years of being the personal kill-dog of the Enclave, she was approached by a high ranking official...

[b]Post Idaho[/b]

After the loss of Idaho and seeing yet more lives extinguish in front of her eyes, especially Winter's life, Melanie had become a bit more reclusive, choosing to be away from her squadmates than near them, fearing that they too would die. Even on missions she would disobey orders and go off by herself, part of her wanting to die. Three weeks after Winter's death however, she had started to finally recover, instead becoming very friendly and more talkative. Smiling sometimes and even taking her gasmask off. She was however still reclusive, preferring to be alone. In addition, she had started to draw pictures, always looking for different types of artistic pencils or stencils while on a mission. She offered to color Tristain's armor, but he refused, unfortunately. The enclave offered to fix a few scars that were on her head that would allow her hair to grow back as well. She was reluctant to take their offer, but encouragement from the others had her hair growing back within a week. Though she always kept the gasmask on her, she stopped wearing it outside, and sometimes inside, missions. She even traded out her NCR Desert Ranger outfit for a set of Enclave branded light combat armor with reinforced plating.