[hider=Lorelei Jones]
[color=662d91][center][h1]Lorelei Jones[/h1][/center][/color]

[center][img]https://tinyurl.com/ycunoknr[/img][/center]

[center][b]Gender:[/b] Female[/center]
[center][b]Age:[/b] 27[/center]
[center][b]Birthdate:[/b] June 30th, 2263[/center]
[center][b]Birthplace:[/b] Woodinville, Washington[/center]

[color=662d91][center][h2]Personal Information[/h2][/center][/color]

[center][b]Current Occupation:[/b] Hunter and scavenger. She has spent most of her life sifting through the ruins of the Old World as well as hunting for game and generally manages to find just enough to make it from day-to-day. 

[b]Work Ethic:[/b] If you can manage to get Lorelei to be passionate about something, she will pour her entire being into it. If the task at hand is not something that interests her, then she will solely rely on her talent (even if there is none to speak of) to get her through.

[b]Combat Strategy:[/b] Lorelei never allows herself to be compromised in close-range. She is at her most comfortable at high ground with a scope, where she can carefully dissect a situation and articulate her plans in a stepwise motion. Her time with the 80s, despite having fled their midst, has altered her reasoning to become very pragmatic and self-serving.

[b]Experience:[/b] Former member of the 80s tribe, renowned for her incredible firing accuracy – was rumored to have been liable to kill from a half-mile away. Her time spent with the 80s turned her into an excellent survivalist; she understands terrain and traverses it exceptionally well, and has developed a very tough exterior.

[b]Organizations/Affiliations:[/b] Independent ever since her severance from the 80s tribe.

[b]Style:[/b] Lorelei wears different iterations of the same outfit almost every day. She wears a long hunting coat with many accessories attached – such as extra shells, bear traps, tourniquets, a knife, and a vial of antivenom. Underneath the coat, she usually wears a tee of some sort and a pair of well-worn jeans.

[b]Preferred Weapons:[/b] Her father’s scoped bolt-action rifle, which has seen years of use, and a desert eagle pistol with some sort of inscribed sigil on the grip that has been taped over.

[b]Habits and Mannerisms:[/b] Lorelei will often hum underneath her breath while idle and is very fidgety; she will always be moving in some way shape or form, whether it be running her fingers through her hair or tapping her hands on a solid object. She will generally smile and chuckle if she runs out of possible options to respond to a situation, even if it is a particularly bad one.[/center]

[color=662d91][center][h2]Medical Information[/h2][/center][/color]

[center][b]Ethnicity:[/b] Caucasian

[b]Blood Type:[/b] O-

[b]Preferred Hand:[/b] Left-Handed

[b]Eye Color:[/b] Hazel

[b]Hair Color:[/b] Dark Brown

[b]Hairstyle:[/b] Whatever suits her on the current day. Her hair is medium/shoulder-length, but occasionally puts it up into a ponytail or bun to keep from waving into her face.

[b]Skin Tone:[/b] Pale.

[b]Complexion:[/b] Freckled.

[b]Makeup:[/b] Occasionally scrounges some together and puts it on, playing make-believe as one of the leading ladies of the old world, but it never lasts.

[b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Bisexual

[b]Body Type:[/b] Ectomorph

[b]Build:[/b] Decent muscle mass considering her small frame, but recent malnourishment has rendered her quite thin.

[b]Height:[/b] 5’7”

[b]Weight:[/b] 120 lbs.

[b]Cup Size:[/b] B

[b]Shoe Size:[/b] 7

[b]Birthmarks/scars:[/b] One lone distinct scar runs vertically down the right side of her face.

[b]Energy:[/b] When in good health, she has exceptional endurance, gained from her cross-country treks with the 80s.

[b]Senses:[/b] They are very potent and very accurate, rendering her paranoid of her surroundings on many occasions.

[b]Addictions:[/b] None to speak of.

[b]Mental Disorders:[/b] Anxiety.

[b]Expressiveness:[/b] If one manages to get close to Lorelei, then her faux tough exterior will dissolve and her rather silly, creative nucleus will be apparent. She generally articulates her thoughts and emotions in an enigmatic, riddle-like way, and only those close to her can aptly solve said riddles.[/center]

[color=662d91][center][h2]Biography[/h2][/center][/color]

Lorelei was born on June 30th, 2263 in Woodinville, Washington – a distant suburb to the sprawling, annihilated skyscape of Seattle. Her mother died in childbirth and her father, Ray, raised her alone. He gave her a shielded life out in the suburban landscape of Woodinville, allowing her to live a relatively carefree albeit hidden existence for the first seventeen years of her life. In this time, she learned many skills that would be considered ‘moot’ in the new world. She developed an interest in film, art, and literature during her youth. These interests manifested themselves into her lonely, but happy life by essentially enacting her to do anything she could to express herself. She’d write on the walls of nearby buildings, create strange sculptures around the house, and scrounge any holotapes she could possibly find.

Unexpectedly, at around age 17, Ray pulled Lorelei out of her shielded prewar-like existence, teaching her important skills, such as maintaining and operating a firearm, foraging for supplies, and other survival skills. She was unaware that his sudden shift in philosophy toward raising his daughter was spurred from a specific motive…Her father had become terminally ill, and kept it hidden from her. He knew very well that he had to prepare Lorelei for life on her own, now that his days were numbered. He continued to train her as well as he could, until he could no longer hide his illness and became bedridden for the next several weeks.

During his time on what would become his deathbed, Ray compiled a massive journal filled with instructions. He had no time left to truly prepare her for what awaited in a life without his protection, so he wrote everything he could – coordinates and directions toward promising homelands that he had heard of through the grapevine, personal anecdotes about the world outside of Woodinville, a handful of personal letters to his daughter, sketches paired with descriptions of various wildlife he had seen in his travels, and a number of blank pages meant for Lorelei herself to finish on her travels. The quality of handwriting and coherence on the later pages declined with Ray’s health, but he kept scribbling in that damned book until he couldn’t any longer.

Ray passed away a week before Lorelei’s 18th birthday. The book, which had turned out to be just short of a godsend, was not enough to pry her away from her home. She buried her father, had her own private funeral, and tried to remain in Woodinville for as long as she could. However, she could not stand to look at the buildings she had walked with him – the streets where they had happily explored, detached from the despair of the rest of the pacific northwest. Ray had left directions and coordinates on how to journey to the city of Las Vegas, where he presumed she would be safe, and she finally decided to follow them. She took his rifle, his pistol, as much food as she could, and headed south. However, she did not traverse the path he had intended, and wound up aimlessly following I-80 as it tossed and turned toward the southwest.

It wasn’t long until Lorelei learned why her father’s journal warned of I-80. She was ambushed and abducted by a group of terrifying-looking raiders inhabiting its surroundings, known as the “80’s”. They originally intended to throw her carcass onto an oven and cook her flesh for their own use, but Lorelei’s rifle caught their eye and for entertainment, they put her up to a vicious test. She would hit directly between the eyes on a mannequin they’d found, or she’d be flayed alive. Fueled by fear, instinct, and her father’s impeccable training, she landed a perfect shot and was inevitably rehabilitated into their ranks.

Lorelei had never intended on leading as evil and degrading a life as she would live; she assumed, from the way her father had made it sound, that raiding and pillaging was simply a staple of life in the wasteland. She became a remarkable fighter over her time with the 80s, integrating their toughness and astute sense of terrain into her own DNA. She could land shots from such an absurd distance that she began to make a name for herself – they began to call her “Blood Raven”.

Despite that Lorelei never truly gained a position of power, she became somewhat of a symbol. Once the 80s became egotistical enough to invade the outskirts of NCR territory, bounties began to pile up with the name “Blood Raven” affixed to them. She had become fully indoctrinated into this life – various artistic etchings had been burned onto her back and she wore fearsome red face paint. She looked the part, and she played it.

During her early adolescence in Washington, Lorelei had never truly learned nor understood the expression of sexuality. She learned quickly of its gravity during her life with the 80s, who turned out to be a rabid and free-spirited bunch, pursuing mindless gratification at any given moment. There was very little social construct – pleasure was pursued through any means, through any gender, and it warped her perspective of sexuality. Throughout her early twenties, she was pulled into this lifestyle of raiding and rampant pursuit of satisfaction, and inevitably, it presented her with an enigma – a child.

When Lorelei became noticeably pregnant, conceived by who-knows-who, the inevitable child began to generate hype among her region of the 80s. But in almost epiphanic-like manner, the prospects of bringing a child into the world she had found for herself flooded her with guilt. She fled her tribe and headed east, hoping to gain a great deal of ground before having her child. She knew very well that the 80s would be able to traverse an impossible amount of territory in very little time.

Lorelei only made it to Colorado before she had her daughter, who she named Rachel. She could not continue to travel with a newborn, so she settled down in a cottage outside the ruins of Silverton. She lived there with Rachel for four years and finally accepted that the 80s had either failed to find her, or neglected to follow her at all. However, she was unfortunately inaccurate. After four years, the reach of the 80s spread into Colorado, north of Legion territory, and they traced her to her home. While Lorelei spent a morning hunting for she and her daughter, a group of her former family set her home ablaze, and returned to the ashes of her life, her daughter burned alive inside. It ruined her attempt at a second life, and after a period of grieving, she continued east and shed off her old identity, going only by “Laura” for an extended period of time. She made it all the way to the Capital Wasteland, where she spent a few years in Canterbury Commons.

However, Lorelei became restless and bored and continued to the northeast, finding herself inside the commonwealth. She had spent a short stint inside Goodneighbor before hearing of a new development inside Salem. She felt that building something new would be her chance to disintegrate her old mistakes and forge a new persona, so she took the opportunity without so much as a second thought.
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