[hider=Sam] [center][h1][color=54C571]Sam[/color][/h1][color=54C571][b][sub][i]"I have seen the Devil laugh, I have seen God turn his face away."[/i][/sub][/b][/color][/center] [color=54C571][b][i]Full Name[/i][/b][/color] [indent]Jonathan Samuel “Sam’ Smith[/indent] [color=54C571][b][i]Age[/i][/b][/color] [indent]230ish[/indent] [color=54C571][b][i]Gender[/i][/b][/color] [indent]Male[/indent] [color=54C571][b][i]S. P. E. C. I. A. L.[/i][/b][/color] [indent]S = 6 P = 7 E = 7 C = 4 I = 7 A = 6 L = 4[/indent][hr][color=54C571][b][i]Appearance[/i][/b][/color] [indent]Pre-War, he was a decidedly average looking man. Brown hair, brown eyes, average height, and while not [I]fat[/I] he was certainly a bit soft around the middle. Now while his hair is mostly gone and eyes have turned black, he [I]has[/I] lost that ‘spare tire’ around his midsection. Like any other ghoul his skin is a pale yellow-ish green and looks like he’s a full body burn victim, with [I]really[/I] bad dry skin. Along with the loss of most of his nose and ears, in places the skin has completely fallen away and exposed the muscle and bone underneath; yet despite the rather gruesome look it causes him no pain. Thanks to his new physiology, what wounds he does get, rarely leave scars unless they are fairly traumatic (IE: gunshots, serious stabbings etc). He does have a few of [I]those[/I], but they tend to get lost in the general mess that his body is in now.[/indent][hr] [color=54C571][b][i]Personality[/i][/b][/color] [indent]He plays the part of the gruff and sometimes acerbic loner, who most folks assume has just seen and [I]done[/I] too much; and while that is somewhat true, it hides a much simpler truth…he’s just not very good with people mostly. Even before the war 'interpersonal’ interactions were something he avoided if he could, and now he uses his gruff persona to stop anyone from getting too close. The truth is though, he’s a deeply lonely man.[/indent] [color=54C571][b][i]History / How they came to be part of Whitlash[/i][/b][/color] [indent]To call Sam’s early life ‘average’ would be an understatement. The only child of only children, he cruised through life with barely a ripple, the sort of person you could sort of forget about while you were talking to him. It seemed like he’d risen to the height of his mediocrity working as a mail clerk in NORADs ‘Cheyenne Mountain Complex’, pushing carts of featureless manila envelopes sent from one set of cubicles to aother. Day in, day out, eight hours a day, five days a week for five years, that was his life; the closest he ever got to a ‘relationship’ was a couple of awkward double dates with a co-worker friend of his that never went anywhere. All that said though, he was content with his lot in life. In July 2077 his life was completely upended when his parents were killed in an auto accident; an eighteen wheeler lost control and ran a red light, T-boning the brand new Chryslus Cherry Bomb they were in and killing them instantly. With his whole world now upended, his boss told him to (for once) use his banked vacation and sick time to go and get his head together. Taking the advice, Sam headed into the mountains to a secluded cabin his dad’s family had owned since the 1980s. Stocking up his car, he headed out and lost himself in the wilderness while he grieved. The cabin had always been one of his favorite places, spending time with his dad while he was taught to hunt and fish and to live off the land. He was still there on October 23rd when the bombs fell and the world he knew died. He’d been out for a morning hike when he saw the flashes behind the trees, and by the time he got to a good vantage point, mushroom clouds dotted the horizon everywhere he looked. Returning to the cabin, he thought about ending himself with his dad’s old rifle, to spare himself the slow death by radiation but he couldn’t, so he waited. Days turned into weeks, into months and he kept going. A few heated altercations with survivors fleeing the urban areas convinced him to hide the gravel track that led to the cabin and so he shut himself off from the world, and largely it passed him by. -- For the next twenty years he never left, though he’s amazed he never went feral in all that time alone. He noticed the radiation changing him, but since there was nothing he could do, he simply went on with his life as best he could. He sustained himself by trapping, fishing or foraging, saving what little ammunition he had for threats both animal and human. He probably would have stayed there in his [I]new[/I] little rut if not for random chance. During a storm one of the dead trees came down and smashed into the cabin. Fortunately he’d been out checking trap lines, but when he saw the damage he realized all he could do was salvage what he could and move on. Packing up what little he had, he set out into the ruins of what used to be America. Over the next few years he roamed the remains of Colorado, Utah, Idaho and Montana, for reasons he couldn’t ever put a finger on, always at least roughly North. He’d been content to wander, either providing for himself or trading the skills he’d picked up along the way for supplies and shelter, until a few years ago when he walked into the town of Whitlash. For the first time in decades he didn’t have the driving urge to push on. Now he has a small place, just off the main street and spends his days either hunting or assisting the local law as is needed.[/indent] [color=54C571][b][i]Skills[/i][/b][/color] [indent][list][*] Survivalist - His dad had taught him from a young age how to live off the land, mostly as a way to try and improve Sam’s confidence. Now with a little over two hundred years of experience and practice, he can make a go of it pretty much anywhere. [*] Guns - After two centuries, missing is something other people do. [*] Melee - Pre-war he’d have probably lost to an energetic middle schooler, but after so long and so many lessons (both good and bad), he’s not one to be trifled with.[/list][/indent] [color=54C571][b][i]Armor and Equipment[/i][/b][/color] [indent][list][*][url=https://fallout.fandom.com/wiki/Cowboy_hat_(Fallout:_New_Vegas)#Desperado_cowboy_hat]Cowboy Hat[/url] [*][url=https://fallout.fandom.com/wiki/Riot_gear]Riot Armour[/url] - .45-70 Gov’t x36 [i][6 loaded, 30 spare][/i] - .20 Ga x25 [i][5 loaded, 20 spare][/i] - Flask [i][Moonshine][/i] - Pipe - Tobacco - Lighter [*][url=https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/fallout/images/3/31/FO76_Standard_backpack.png/revision/latest?cb=20190626012541]Backpack[/url] - Water Jug [i][CAUTION: Radioactive][/i] - Bed Roll - .45-70 Gov’t x 60 [i][Spare][/i] - .20 Ga x15 [i][Spare][/i][/list][/indent] [color=54C571][b][i]Weapon(s)[/i][/b][/color] [indent][list][*][url=https://fallout.fandom.com/wiki/Brush_gun]Brush Gun[/url] [*][url=https://fallout.fandom.com/wiki/Lever-action_shotgun]Lever-action shotgun[/url] [*][url=https://fallout.fandom.com/wiki/Combat_knife_(Fallout:_New_Vegas)]Combat Knife[/url] [*][url=https://fallout.fandom.com/wiki/Switchblade_(Fallout:_New_Vegas)]Switchblade[/url] [/list][/indent] [color=54C571][b][i]Extras[/i][/b][/color] [indent]He’s terrified of going feral, is deeply uncomfortable around feral ghouls[/indent] [/hider]