[hider=Abby Travis]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/rdOtgqi.jpg[/img]
[b]Name:[/b]  Abigail "Abby" Travis
[b]Age:[/b]  18  (Had her birthday on New Melbourne...woohoo!)

[b]Appearance:[/b]  Abby stands 5’6” tall and is rail thin.  She’s got red hair in need of brushing, mistrustful brown eyes, and a fair complexion with the last of childhood’s freckles slowly fading.   Her typical wardrobe is denims or chinos over a pair of well worn engineer’s boots, topped off with either khaki or flannel shirts over a tee shirt.  

Abby shuns makeup and jewelry, preferring the adornment of her father’s replica Colt Navy style revolver strapped to her hip.


[b]Skills:[/b]   Since the age of 3. She has lived aboard a Firefly class, that time giving her a healthy practical knowledge of the boat, along with its’ aches and pains.  Abby can read and do cargo math.  She can navigate and hold a course, but has never done the takeoff or landing parts.  She understands how to stow cargo for the black.  Though she’s not a mechanic, she’s got the basics down well enough to be a ready hand for someone who can do the proper fixin’.   She’s completely at her ease in an EV suit.  Abby will always do her part of the chores, but her least favorite job is cooking.  She’s most proud of her gun handling and marksmanship.  Though Abby’s never had to use her pa’s pistol in anger, she’s proven deadly accurate with a long rifle.  (Just wait til she tells you all about the day she popped two Reavers at 600 yards.)

[b]Personality:[/b]   Grumpy, cranky, sarcastic, and prone to walk right into a scrap, Abby suffers no fools.  That said, she loved her deceased aunt and uncle.  She makes few friends, but the ones she does are generally for life. She values her privacy, and despite her rough hewn nature, takes pleasure at night in the pages of her current book.

[b]History:[/b]  When both parents went off to fight for the Independents, 3 year old Abby was left in the care of her Uncle Bob and his wife, Aunt Lupe.  Word of her folks’ deaths at the siege of New Kasmir was delivered, along with Pa’s pistol, to then 7 year old Abby.   She cherishes this final keepsake, and is meticulous in its’ maintenance.

[/hider]