[hider=Isabel “Bel” Barton] [centre] [color=Gold][b]Name[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Isabel “Bel” Barton[/color] [hider=”Rearin’ and ready, sir!”][img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/6c/9f/95/6c9f951d9c8a398e3782ad01c3f8863e.jpg[/img][/hider] [color=Gold][b]Species[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Human[/color] [color=Gold][b]Age[/b][/color] [color=Silver]27[/color] [color=Gold][b]Sexuality[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Bisexual[/color] [color=Gold][b]Birth[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Veronica Peak, North Carolina, U.S.A, Earth[/color] [hr] [color=Gold][b]Appearance[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Short yellow blonde hair and green eyes stand out in the crowd even without her being so tall for a woman at 6’1”. Her figure is lean and very athletic but her face is soft and kind despite how rough and calloused her fingers are. She smiles often and laughs with her fingers over her mouth. Her clothing is usually either kevlar or denim with a few bargain bin shirts for flavor. She always rolls up the cuffs of her jeans out of habit more than anything and never wears anything besides sandals unless she’s on duty. On her left wrist is her one and only tattoo: a list of names written without embellishment or flair of any kind. Hector Gurrella, Darius Webster, John Matthews, Lucas Collins, and Omar Najjar. Her skin is also marked by a number of scars including: a patch of jagged scars above her left hip, a trio of bullet scars on her right shoulder, right bicep, and just below her right breast, and one last mark that goes halfway up her left calf.[/color] [color=Gold][b]Personality[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Jovial and upbeat though not exactly a joker out in the field. She remains cool under pressure and maintains a positive outlook which helps keep her patients calm. Panicking is ill advised at best when trying to put someone’s intestines back inside them. As such, her bedside manner is impeccable. That’s not to say that she simply takes abusive or berative behavior from those under her care. She’s a field medic not a nurse and doesn’t give a singular god damn how much your leg hurts. You’re gonna play nice too if you want good care. Off duty she’s not just nice, she’s a whole bucket of sunshine. Excitable, honest, and caring. Bel is the type everyone wants to be their friend and the one to try and be everyone’s friend. Her enthusiasm is just as boundless as her energy.[/color] [hr] [color=Gold][b]Role[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Field Medic[/color] [color=Gold][b]Equipment[/b][/color] [color=Silver]S4K80 “Bandersnatch” Submachine Gun (38 round magazine, 850 rounds/minute, red dot optics, flashlight) S&W Model 66 (6 shot, 3in barrel, double action, Pappy’s favorite) Asclepius Pattern Body Armor Field Trauma Kit Combat Surgeon Kit[/color] [color=Gold][b]Previous Branch[/b][/color] [color=Silver]United States Space Force, 2nd Battalion, Fox Company[/color] [hr] [color=Gold][b]Biography[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Isabel Barton was born the youngest of three born in 2228 at around 3:30AM in the back of her parent’s car right in the hospital parking lot. Her grandfather joked she was great at being in the worst places at the worst times. Shortly after her birth, her father lost his BAR license when a shady legal deal fell through and the family of five was forced to move out to the country where said grandfather set him up with a steady, but much less lucrative job as a corner store clerk. Speaking of her grandfather, she and her brothers were essentially raised by him (but mostly her). He was the sort American flag waving, ATF hating, tobacco chewing, moonshine sipping, farmer tan having, overall wearing, pick up truck owning, DIY fixing, fly fishing, shooting squirrels with an antique .22 from a rocking chair on his back porch while sipping sweet tea from a mason jar, Carolina-born good ol’ boy she was proud to call her Pappy. He already picked Bel (he only called her Isabel when she was in deep, deep trouble) out as his favorite grandchild before her 4th birthday, much to the secret resentment of her mother. Her mother’s childhood came and went mostly without her father since he was off in all corners of the galaxy for nearly two decades as a soldier of fortune. She hardly ever saw him growing up so the fact he was now around to play the cool relative always left her feeling bitter. Her brothers often left to play with their friends from around the town but Bel and Pappy were the best of friends. She spent countless hours with him hunting, fishing, target shooting, and learning to play her great, great grandpappy’s banjo and guitar both of which she inherited and carried with her to Andromeda. It wasn’t uncommon for her to spend a full week at a time “sleeping over” at his house no matter what her mother did to try and keep her away from him. He taught her most everything she knows from tying her shoes to how to perform heart surgery on a cow and some of the finer points of equine dental work. He taught her important life lessons he picked up as an interstellar mercenary and later as a livestock veterinarian such as, “Y’see, Bel there’s two kinds of old surgeons: slow and methodical or good and methodical.” and “Never share a fightin’ hole with someone braver than you.” From a young age, Bel grew up listening to her grandpappy regal her with tales of slinking through alien jungles or trekking across deserts of red sand. The way he talked made it sound like every other day was a new adventure and that was likely by design. She joined up with the U.S. Space Force right out of highschool and set about becoming a combat medic. No challenge would stop her and she blazed through the programs with top marks all around. She only lost a handful of people across five separate tours of duty and gained a reputation as an angel of mercy right there on Earth. Tales were passed around on-base bars about Bluegrass Bel. Besides her talent with dueling the Reaper, she used her musical ability to keep her comrades entertained as well. She got even better over the course of all those years at her music and could likely go some degree of professional if she had the desire. She likely would have served a dozen more tours if her pappy hadn’t fallen ill. The diagnosis was simple as it was terrible. Malignant and untreatable brain tumor. The doctors gave him maybe a year at most to live which perhaps didn’t bother the then 84 year old man. He’d lived a good, long life. What was there to be upset about? Bel didn’t take the news quite as well but kept her grief to herself, knowing that Pappy would likely scold her for crying about, as he put it, “spilling a jug of spoiled milk”. The two of them spent a great deal of time together in the last months of his life which helped ease her grieving when he finally did buy the farm 13 months later. Even still, she felt a bit lost without her pappy and couldn’t shake the feeling of having nothing to go back to. She had other family, of course but she’d never felt very close to her parents or her brothers for that matter so when she heard of the Atlas and its mission, she jumped on a chance to make a fresh start for herself. Bel packed up her life and hopped aboard without a second thought.[/color] [color=Gold][b]Affiliations[/b][/color] [color=Silver]USSF[/color] [color=Gold][b]Relationships[/b][/color] [color=Silver]to be determined[/color] [color=Gold][b]Character Theme[/b][/color] [color=Silver][url]https://youtu.be/i7gD3XBeLk8[/url][/color] [/centre] [/hider]