Given the Enclave have another prospective member amongst the cast, I opted for my initial idea for an NCR soldier to balance things out. 

[Hider=Jimmy Van Buren]

[b]Name[/b]: 
James “Jimmy” Van Buren

[b]Age[/b]:
23

[b]Sex[/b]:
Male 

[b]Your S.P.E.C.I.A.L. / Skills[/b]:
[b]Strength[/b] - 6 - [i]Barrel Chested![/i]
[b]Perception[/b] - 8 - [i]Monocled Falcon![/i]
[b]Endurance[/b] - 6 - [i]Hardy![/i]
[b]Charisma[/b] - 8 - [i]Movie Star![/i]
[b]Intelligence[/b] - 4 - [i]Knuckle Head![/i]
[b]Agility[/b] - 4 - [i]Butterfingers![/i]
[b]Luck[/b] - 3 - [i]Sickly Albatross![/i]
[u]Energy Weapons, Barter, Survival[/u] 

[b]Appearance[/b]: 
Blond hair, closely cropped at the back and sides but looser on the top and front, recalls a more practical take on the immaculately-styled action heroes Jimmy had grown up with. His jaw is sharp, speckled with stubble from a close shave of the straight razor. He has a strong brow, his eyebrows often speaking for him where words would otherwise fail. A poker face he does not have—anyone attentive can easily get a read on him from his expressions. A short round nose and unusually rosy cheeks contrast his more angular features, giving him a more approachable look than some of the more hardened servicemen. 

Jimmy is taller than the average person, assisted by the boots that come as standard with his uniform. Being a soldier, and very passionate about that fact, he’s very well built: Having grown up in a Vault, he lacks the disadvantage of malnutrition many Wastelanders have, and thus easily developed his muscles into a lithe, but strong frame, striking a balance between tone and mass. 

Jimmy tends to prefer his vault suit for day-to-day wear, and even in more hostile scenarios, generally wears his NCR armour over it. 

[b]Armor and Equipment[/b]:
Pip-Boy 3000A
Vault 50 Jumpsuit 
NCR Mantle Armour
[i]x100[/i] Microfusion Cells 
[i]x20[/i] Flares
[i]x3[/i] Healing Powder 
[i]x250[/i] NCR dollars
NCR Dog Tags
Roughin’ It! Bedroll Kit
Teddy Bear 


[b]Weapons[/b]:
Plasma Rifle 
Flare Gun
Combat Knife
Straight Razor 

[b]Personality[/b]: 
A rarity for the Wasteland, Jimmy is optimistic to the core. He soldiers on when most would succumb to despair, facing the dangers of the wasteland with little fear and much hope to see tomorrow. He will do everything he can to make a difference, however incremental it may be. Through the emulation of his action hero idols, he’s selfless and motivated to assist others: He’ll gladly put himself in harm’s way if someone else’s safety is on the line. He clears the air of tension with smart comments and rallies his compatriots with words of inspiration.
Partially driven by this optimism, and partially driven by naivety, Jimmy sees the best in people and trusts their intentions are as pure as his—though he reserves harsh judgement for those the NCR would deem undesirable, such as the Legion remnants or the infamously testy Brotherhood of Steel.

Though not the most intelligent, Jimmy is quite socially and emotionally aware, in tune with the thoughts and feelings of others. This assists him greatly when it comes to bartering: He is a shrewd negotiator, cleverly navigating through logical hoops to reach a deal that both sides can be happy with. Rather than sweetening them up, Jimmy prefers a more practical and down-to-earth style of conciliation: He speaks in facts, of gains and losses, hazards and opportunities. He arrives at his deals through logic rather than sweet-talk, a surprising trait for someone often deemed dull or lacking in smarts. This pays dividends when it comes to teamwork: He can easily inspire others and rally them to him, not by clever wordsmithing, but with frank and honest encouragement. 

Still, Jimmy tends to ignore his own needs for the sake of others. Emotionally he is quite starved, bottling up fears and anxieties so as not to become a burden or slow himself and others down. Refutations of his black and white world view often shake him, and he’s prone to shutting them out and falling back on the manufactured personality of his idols when confronted with contrary reasoning he cannot rebuke. 

[b]History / How they came to be part of Whitlash[/b]:
Some two hundred years ago, Jimmy’s forebears were herded into the safe, lead-lined walls of Oregon’s Vault 50 to escape nuclear annihilation. It seemed a benevolent act of the American government—but their freedom came with a price. The inhabitants had been hand picked from a variety of factors: Voting history, involvement with anti or pro-war demonstrations, party membership, letters and phone calls made to senators and local representatives. An expansive vault, it had been designed to fit upwards of 535 inhabitants—or rather, members, and their families.

 Any adults of voting age in the vault were assigned a district, some a state, and inducted into the so-called new American Congress. They were instructed that, because of their political activism, they had been selected by their party—Democratic or Republican—to act as a leading official, casting votes and making decisions to influence the future of their country. Their “president”—an Overseer, chosen for their total apathy to the political system—would occasionally receive notices from the Vault’s supercomputer. These notices would present conundrums or crises for the Congress to solve—and the Congress would debate endlessly over these made up issues, for the foreseeable future. Seats were inherited rather than voted for, by the oldest child of the current sitting member. The system was endlessly self-sustaining, and endlessly self-frustrating. 

Vault 50’s experiment may very well have run until the end of time itself. However, it would be interrupted when, one fateful day, contact was made from the outside world. A group calling themselves the New California Republic had managed to open the Vault door, and were eager to interface with the inhabitants. It was a difficult process, given the shock that came when the inhabitants were eventually convinced their “civic duty” was a farce. Eventually, however, after much denial and deliberation, the inhabitants of Vault 50 voted unanimously to dissolve their Congress and assimilate into the NCR. 

This was Jimmy’s first introduction to his new government—his new home. Already patriotically inclined, Jimmy idolised the NCR as the true continuation of America’s sacred democracy. They had presidents, states, taxes—it was truly the Old World that had been sealed from his ancestors two hundred years ago. With no frame of reference to the rest of the Wasteland, the NCR seemed the pinnacle of civilisation. Their civic duty would continue not as congresspeople, but as defenders of democracy. Enrollment into the military amongst Vault 50 residents was almost ubiquitous: At least one individual of fighting age from each family volunteered their services. Jimmy was eager for the day he, too, would get to fight for his people. He’d grown up with stories of the war, triumphs against China and decisive victories in places like Anchorage. He idolised the strong soldiers in power armour, toting laser-powered weapons of justice to smite any enemies of democracy. The American soldier, to Jimmy, was a paragon to aspire to. He wanted to be like them, one day—to fight on the front lines against tyranny, delivering democracy from the warm end of a Plasma Caster. 

Death was a fate Jimmy’s heroes had always managed to defy. Countless times they’d evaded its clutches, seizing the day despite the odds. So it shook him, then, when they received news from the New Vegas front: His father had been killed in action, fallen against a Legion incursion at Nelson. Not exactly the most well-adjusted person, Jimmy chose not to process this at all—not to wrangle with the questions mortality confronted him with. Was he wrong about the world? Could this suffering have been avoided? Were the NCR truly throwing away the lives of their soldiers for nothing? 
These were all questions Jimmy buried within himself. Rather than letting it shake him, he used the event to strengthen his patriotism—his blind following of a shiny ideal amongst the dusty, desolate wasteland. 

Finally, the time came for Jimmy to offer his services to the NCR. With the Battle of Hoover Dam won, and Caesar’s forces scattered to the north and north-east, Jimmy was dispatched from Wyoming into Montana. A food shortage was approaching: It was Jimmy’s job to scout for potential trade alliances, or fertile land for the NCR to send farmers to tend to. Wandering into the uncharted wilds of Montana, Jimmy happened upon the settlement of Whitlash—the ideal place to hunker down and call home for the duration of his mission. Best case scenario, they could even be folded into the NCR with enough persuasion. 

For now, Jimmy lives a quiet life in Whitlash, doing all he can to support the local community and paint the NCR in a positive light for them. 

[b]Extras[/b]: 
It was customary for inhabitants of Vault 50 to be named after important figures in U.S. history. Jimmy, from the Democrat’s camp, is named after president Jimmy Carter, his ancestors having changed their last name to Van Buren somewhere along the line.

Jimmy is very knowledgeable on U.S. history, though his understanding of the Wasteland and its customs is admittedly somewhat shaky. 

He’s fine with Stimpaks, Radaway, and their ilk, but Jimmy refuses to use chems like Jet, Mentats, or Med-X on principle. 

Being a proud NCR citizen, as well as a Vault Dweller subjected to a cruel and unusual experiment, Jimmy is quite distrustful of the Old World government and the Enclave. He has yet to rationalise this belief with his patriotism in his head, and chooses not to think about it. 

[/hider]