Rockette

☣ F A L L O U T : Genesis [High-Casual] ☣

______________________________________________________________________________________

First impressions were crucial in the swamps, it led to degrees of judgement and capability, to place those of your ilk and those of your bane into categories of indispensable and liable burdens. Around the haze and burn of a campfire, Vix had been privy to what she snidely labeled a round-about circle jerk of shoddy mercenaries. Not that she wasn't impressed by the figure of Joe Sawyer, or even the Super Mutant whose name evaded her, and Soldier of course who had been the primary target for her lop-sided jeering during the initial leg of their journey. Of course, the man was entirely fixated on their chartreuse hued companion, so she had given up in favour of spinning her blades in idle fashion to amuse her glaringly obvious fidgeting. Rationing her smokes and little luxuries was eternally vexing, however necessary, to ensure that she didn't find herself at the mercy of the swamp and sun that appeared to bear down ever more with fierce intensity. Vix had been entertaining the notion of bribing Shepard with tantalizing conversation and attempts at sleight of hand to garner a few more smokes to her waning addiction when the introductions had began and older habits once buried had risen to the surface.

She calculated most of the time, with the bone of her teeth gnashed around her nail and withheld a internal monologue about the lack of a pack mentality. There was no such structured hierarchy or anyone to call the shots really, Rocket didn't count in her eyes, too young and too soft, innocence clothed in endearing curiosity if not a little annoying. With Daddy backpacking her the entire way, Vix refused to accept her as anything more than a simple messenger girl stuck on the wrong path. Soldier was far too bigoted and such would cater to poor judgement and potential lapses in commanding those to the proper cause. It didn't leave much for options and Vix found her loyalty wavering, and if not for the promise of caps and the need for such, she would've tucked and bolted at the first sign. She left her introductions vague with purpose and if not for the melodramatic hunter and the twitchy addict hashing petty threats, she might've stuck around.

As it were, Vix prowled until she found a decent pit to plant herself, leaning against the second wagon whilst Soldier took first watch against the first. Small comforts, she deducted and settled in for a wink of rest, head canted back and arms at her bust with fingers always prime and at the ready for the knives fixated to her slung belts. She didn't sleep well on her lonesome, but the potential of an awkward conversation otherwise left a bad taste in her mouth. Soot black lashes fell with a slow, waking tremour crawling way up her spine and setting her shoulders into unease. Vix's entire posture went rigid with the screams of the dying and afraid, the wails splintering within her mind awash in horrid memory, and waking a mural of flame before her eyes before she sprung to her boots and flanked around the wagon with knives tight within her white-knuckled grasp.

"What the shit -!"

Blood, heads rolling and a broken wagon with shattered trees and thick soil wet with death. Wasn't a party without bodies on the ground, apparently.

"Well, hell. Man..." Vix's eyes fell upon the weeping father, an unsettling coil in her belly and spine, confronted with mourning when she herself knew little of such a thing. Least, she thought so, swinging her rifle positioned on her sling and faced towards the forest. She only noticed then that their primary concerns were vacant, Rocket more so, she thought, and counted Soldier as an after thought. Though... He was a capable man, if nothing else, another gun to their fold and something told her, without him, something else was bound to end up in some deep shit. Vix allowed once last glance to the wailing Shepard and muttered 'neath her breath as the others began formulating a plan of action. Good start.

"All right, all right. Don't get your panties in a bunch." After having her name summoned twice, it was enough to grind on her already quaking nerves firing rapidly in juncture with their predicament. Vix approached those gathered, keeping her eyes on the forest and listening to the what little intelligence was provided.

"Yao Guai or Deathclaw, huh?." Vix came up beside Sully, carefully eyeing the shadows that teemed with threat; poised to swallow them whole the moment they crossed that threshold of a hunting party. "Going to need some light, most beasts will keep from it. I want you on point," she nudged her elbow into his customized leather armor and gestured forward. "You're good with this shit, yeah."

Vix pivoted to face the others volunteering for their troupe, "We follow within his steps, no funny shit either, you all know these rad'd up things get thirsty when the sun goes down."

&&𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒑.

@EveryMemeAKing //



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&&𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒑.

@Alisdragon911 //



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&&𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒑.

@Kefka Palazzo //




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☣ F A L L O U T : Genesis [High-Casual] ☣

---

NAME
Vix Blackwater
AGE
30
GENDER
Female
SPECIES
Human
HOMETOWN
Alexandria - She thinks.
FACTION
Swamp Dogs - Formerly.

---

With a glint in her eye and palms on hips perpetually stained with soot and swamp muck, Vix is the afforded representation of a fatale with the lack of a fairer facet. She's all dark with hole-punched skin and razor smiles, leather cinched fists and loose in all the furnishings of a bad-mouthed Raider on a good day. Fed a persistent cardio on the daily and the preference for a volatile cocktail of Mentats, Physchos, Jets and the occasional abuse of the nearest whiskey neck on hand begets to a waif figure corded with sinew liken to rigid scar tissue, and the incredible magnetism of bygone morality. She exhibits most stereotypes of her less inclined brethren; foul mouthed and crude exteriors with aggressive penchants perpendicular to Super Mutant brutality - albeit, not as mindless. There's shoddy penmanship scrawled permanently across ecru skin, golden dusted and dirt smudged, marks eternally displayed by her wears of low ridden trousers, always black, and cinched, cropped blouses criss-crossed with leather and chain edged bindings that make up some trend of archaic armor.

Vix heralds confidence and oozes such with an almost arrogant fanfare, she's got alpha complexes in spades, compounded by her notched up chin and sneer that exposes nicotine shaded teeth and a tongue bathed in corroded silver to match her chafing wit and blunt repertoire. Aside from her rather commanding display, there's a visible weight in her dark eyes and across those whip-marked shoulders, a sort of droop that depresses in solidarity, the experiences honed into needle points that drag across her spine covered by long, and some uneven, pieces of dull, black hair. Years of smoke abused lungs has risen to a slight husk within her annunciation, her voice often catering to whispers.

---

TYPE ENTJ
SPECTATOR'S REACTION
She's kind of, well, a bitch. The foot-stomping, hip swaying, laughing kind of bitchiness that demands others to follow in her footsteps or ignore her bolster; Vix is demanding and severe, if nothing else. It's like watching a train wreck rampant with Ghouls or Deathclaws. She scoffs in the face of challenges and rises to any that would go against her own agenda with her willpower wielded like a properly thorn embedded fist. You better come equipped with your own sense of confidence and power if you're going to tackle this former Raider down.

---

4 7 4 8 6 6 5

---

---

TRAIT
One Hander - You have a specialization in using your dominant hand. Single hand weapons (small weapons) receive a bonus. But if you ever try something in your other hand, well, good luck there soldier.

SKILLS
Combat Skill
Throwing - The skill of muscle-propelled ranged weapons. Throwing knives, spears and grenades.
Active Skill(s)
Survival - You’ve lived in enough hostile environments to know when you might die or when you might make use of your situation.

PERK
And The Kitchen Sink: You have advantage with throwing items. And people that throw things against you, you can dodge out of their way quicker.

STRENGTHS

• Wasteland Charm: There's something about Vix's demeanor, that rough edge and imperfect illusion of being on the wrong side, that attracts others to her person, sober or not. People will listen well enough and be seduced by that sometimes dominant perplexity, or insanity, until she's over exhausted her charms.
• Perception: Having been on both sides of the fence, as it were, Raider and non, selfish and yet not. She's got a keen eye and a quick tongue; always sharp.
• Command & Demand: While not entirely a leader, and by no means should be one, Vix has a penchant for taking control through various situations. Her dominance applies onto individuals as well, even against their will.

WEAKNESSES

• Personal Space: Vix thrusts her way too often and too quick into the presence of others, almost always abrasively. Sometimes she doesn't know when to just not be and leave some people well enough alone. Personal space? No such thing.
• Nicotine Addict: She's got an over bearing attitude even with a smoke betwixt that smile, without one, she goes on the offensive. Coupled by years of addiction, it has slighted in Endurance.
• Raider Reps: Being marked by their ink and being a former mutt has got her on the ropes about her reputation, despite all the charm and whims of sex appeal, she's still got that shadow riding on her skin - literally.

---

WEAPONS
Throwing Knives: Totaled to six, at least the last time she counted, these sharp projectiles are ritually maintained and span the length of her hand from palm to finger tip, and then some. Usually wielded with her dominant hand: left.

Molotov Cocktail: Vix tends to keep two, or three on her person, simply for the sake of keeping enemies at a distance. She's not a close range fighter in the least.

Handmade Rifle: Because you never bring just a knife to a gun fight.
ARMOR
Fortified Leather Segments: Being a creature of bare minimum clothing on the normal routine, Vix has segments of leather customized to the fit around her torso, usually across her bust at an angle and swung around her hips with small chain pieces worn onto them. These pieces can also be worn across her arms if she so desires, her wardrobe can sometimes change on a, sometimes, practical whim.
CHEMICALS

• Stimpaks - 2
• Psycho - 1
• Water - 3

MISCELLANEOUS
Crumbled Smokes: She's got maybe a handful of smokes left, that's going to be a problem.

---

"What's a Raider doing up here in the Port?"

It was one of those a dime for a dozen inquiries, brought on by the insignia's branded onto her skin, tell-tale brandishing of darker times and deeds done under a film of Jet and Psychos. Leather slapped over skin, nails curling inwards to impale against the looping scrawl of "Charlie's Mutt" curling along her shoulder blade and peeking from beneath her blouse. Vix turned a careful glance over her shoulder, oblique gazes through a fringe of soot lashes turning a shade of crimson with near shame.

"Former Raider friend, swear on Mike."

"You're - ?!"

"Kidding!" Vix barked, laughter spreading through the back ditch alley way of the bar where she had retreated to under the glares of drunken patrons. She'd only been through the city for maybe a week, and none could mistake her candor, Vix was nearly incapable of blending in, no matter where she was or who she was with. "I'm not into worshiping pyromaniac dogs. But, I'm not kidding about the Raider part, I'm not into that either."

It took a drunken second for him to catch on, the haze over that washed out stare, tinged blue, shuttered by rapid blinks and a quirk of whiskey spotted lips. "... You expect me to believe that?"

"You've no reason not to, I haven't been marking my territory around here; no fires and all that." Internally, Vix berated her choice of words, each syllable that slid past her lips only seemed to agitate her sudden interrogator. She turned, angling her profile just so to shield the view of further ink markings across her spine, allowing only the ones across her mid drift and peeking amidst her hips to be seen, his gaze drooping low with her angled shift. Her chapped lips curled like a Cheshire feline, all fatales of this simper knew when they had a skittering rodent within their claws, and he was entirely rapt with the faded black etched onto her hip.

"Speaking of territory though, looked like your boys in there earlier were about to mark theirs. Sure you should be out here with little ole' me?" Vix canted her head, perplexity donning over her features with lilting tones coating over her hoarse voice, teasing, almost playful. He rapidly blinked, his former suspicions ebbing away with the increase of her tantalizing display, only to be displayed with an entirely new degree of interrogation.

"They - I mean. We're celebrating! Got a whiff of a new job out with the Governor, 1000 caps you know."

Vix's eyes lit up, dark pools panning wide at the mention of caps, sinful greed turning that smile almost carnivorous. This was the tip she'd been waiting for, running low on caps and means was running her ragged; a dog almost at her ends without the support of her former pack.

"Yeah? Sounds too good to be true almost."

"It's all legit, we're heading out in the morning." He almost seemed pleased with himself, with Vix's angled profile rippling, coy tilts of her head and smile, so he began to step forward, inviting in all the wrong ways until pain blossomed through his palm. His roar was sudden, lifting high into a wail until another sharp lance landed through his opposite gesture, his arms trembling with the intensity of agony that flamed from his hands uselessly dangling at his sides. With knives sheered through flesh and tendons, there was little he could do but just stare after Vix donned with shadow and mirth.

"I don't think you'll make it babe, but that's okay. I'll take your spot. Momma' has got to eat after all." She fanned her fingers in a wave, genuinely grateful with her swagger out from the alley way before she snapped, and pistol-shot her fingers back over her marked shoulder originally responsible.

"Think your boys could cover my tab? Thanks!"

---

_{⚜️ 01 . fighter .}

☣ F A L L O U T : Genesis [High-Casual] ☣

// notice. I have permission to submit this CS, as I've been talking with our Gm. So, have your ex-Raider baddie.

&

x x x

---

NAME
Vix Blackwater
AGE
30
GENDER
Female
SPECIES
Human
HOMETOWN
Alexandria - She thinks.
FACTION
Swamp Dogs - Formerly.

---

With a glint in her eye and palms on hips perpetually stained with soot and swamp muck, Vix is the afforded representation of a fatale with the lack of a fairer facet. She's all dark with hole-punched skin and razor smiles, leather cinched fists and loose in all the furnishings of a bad-mouthed Raider on a good day. Fed a persistent cardio on the daily and the preference for a volatile cocktail of Mentats, Physchos, Jets and the occasional abuse of the nearest whiskey neck on hand begets to a waif figure corded with sinew liken to rigid scar tissue, and the incredible magnetism of bygone morality. She exhibits most stereotypes of her less inclined brethren; foul mouthed and crude exteriors with aggressive penchants perpendicular to Super Mutant brutality - albeit, not as mindless. There's shoddy penmanship scrawled permanently across ecru skin, golden dusted and dirt smudged, marks eternally displayed by her wears of low ridden trousers, always black, and cinched, cropped blouses criss-crossed with leather and chain edged bindings that make up some trend of archaic armor.

Vix heralds confidence and oozes such with an almost arrogant fanfare, she's got alpha complexes in spades, compounded by her notched up chin and sneer that exposes nicotine shaded teeth and a tongue bathed in corroded silver to match her chafing wit and blunt repertoire. Aside from her rather commanding display, there's a visible weight in her dark eyes and across those whip-marked shoulders, a sort of droop that depresses in solidarity, the experiences honed into needle points that drag across her spine covered by long, and some uneven, pieces of dull, black hair. Years of smoke abused lungs has risen to a slight husk within her annunciation, her voice often catering to whispers.

---

TYPE ENTJ
SPECTATOR'S REACTION
She's kind of, well, a bitch. The foot-stomping, hip swaying, laughing kind of bitchiness that demands others to follow in her footsteps or ignore her bolster; Vix is demanding and severe, if nothing else. It's like watching a train wreck rampant with Ghouls or Deathclaws. She scoffs in the face of challenges and rises to any that would go against her own agenda with her willpower wielded like a properly thorn embedded fist. You better come equipped with your own sense of confidence and power if you're going to tackle this former Raider down.

---

4 7 4 8 6 6 5

---

---

TRAIT
One Hander - You have a specialization in using your dominant hand. Single hand weapons (small weapons) receive a bonus. But if you ever try something in your other hand, well, good luck there soldier.

SKILLS
Combat Skill
Throwing - The skill of muscle-propelled ranged weapons. Throwing knives, spears and grenades.
Active Skill(s)
Survival - You’ve lived in enough hostile environments to know when you might die or when you might make use of your situation.

PERK
x x x

STRENGTHS

• Wasteland Charm: There's something about Vix's demeanor, that rough edge and imperfect illusion of being on the wrong side, that attracts others to her person, sober or not. People will listen well enough and be seduced by that sometimes dominant perplexity, or insanity, until she's over exhausted her charms.
• Perception: Having been on both sides of the fence, as it were, Raider and non, selfish and yet not. She's got a keen eye and a quick tongue; always sharp.
• Command & Demand: While not entirely a leader, and by no means should be one, Vix has a penchant for taking control through various situations. Her dominance applies onto individuals as well, even against their will.

WEAKNESSES

• Personal Space: Vix thrusts her way too often and too quick into the presence of others, almost always abrasively. Sometimes she doesn't know when to just not be and leave some people well enough alone. Personal space? No such thing.
• Nicotine Addict: She's got an over bearing attitude even with a smoke betwixt that smile, without one, she goes on the offensive. Coupled by years of addiction, it has slighted in Endurance.
• Raider Reps: Being marked by their ink and being a former mutt has got her on the ropes about her reputation, despite all the charm and whims of sex appeal, she's still got that shadow riding on her skin - literally.

---

WEAPONS
Throwing Knives: Totaled to six, at least the last time she counted, these sharp projectiles are ritually maintained and span the length of her hand from palm to finger tip, and then some. Usually wielded with her dominant hand: left.

Molotov Cocktail: Vix tends to keep two, or three on her person, simply for the sake of keeping enemies at a distance. She's not a close range fighter in the least.

Handmade Rifle: Because you never bring just a knife to a gun fight.
ARMOR
Fortified Leather Segments: Being a creature of bare minimum clothing on the normal routine, Vix has segments of leather customized to the fit around her torso, usually across her bust at an angle and swung around her hips with small chain pieces worn onto them. These pieces can also be worn across her arms if she so desires, her wardrobe can sometimes change on a, sometimes, practical whim.
CHEMICALS

• Stimpaks - 2
• Psycho - 1
• Water - 3

MISCELLANEOUS
Crumbled Smokes: She's got maybe a handful of smokes left, that's going to be a problem.

---

"What's a Raider doing up here in the Port?"
It was one of those a dime for a dozen inquiries, brought on by the insignia's branded onto her skin, tell-tale brandishing of darker times and deeds done under a film of Jet and Psychos. Leather slapped over skin, nails curling inwards to impale against the looping scrawl of "Charlie's Mutt" curling along her shoulder blade and peeking from beneath her blouse. Vix turned a careful glance over her shoulder, oblique gazes through a fringe of soot lashes turning a shade of crimson with near shame.

"Former Raider friend, swear on Mike."

"You're - ?!"

"Kidding!" Vix barked, laughter spreading through the back ditch alley way of the bar where she had retreated to under the glares of drunken patrons. She'd only been through the city for maybe a week, and none could mistake her candor, Vix was nearly incapable of blending in, no matter where she was or who she was with. "I'm not into worshiping pyromaniac dogs. But, I'm not kidding about the Raider part, I'm not into that either."

It took a drunken second for him to catch on, the haze over that washed out stare, tinged blue, shuttered by rapid blinks and a quirk of whiskey spotted lips. "... You expect me to believe that?"

"You've no reason not to, I haven't been marking my territory around here; no fires and all that." Internally, Vix berated her choice of words, each syllable that slid past her lips only seemed to agitate her sudden interrogator. She turned, angling her profile just so to shield the view of further ink markings across her spine, allowing only the ones across her mid drift and peeking amidst her hips to be seen, his gaze drooping low with her angled shift. Her chapped lips curled like a Cheshire feline, all fatales of this simper knew when they had a skittering rodent within their claws, and he was entirely rapt with the faded black etched onto her hip.

"Speaking of territory though, looked like your boys in there earlier were about to mark theirs. Sure you should be out here with little ole' me?" Vix canted her head, perplexity donning over her features with lilting tones coating over her hoarse voice, teasing, almost playful. He rapidly blinked, his former suspicions ebbing away with the increase of her tantalizing display, only to be displayed with an entirely new degree of interrogation.

"They - I mean. We're celebrating! Got a whiff of a new job out with the Governor, 1000 caps you know."

Vix's eyes lit up, dark pools panning wide at the mention of caps, sinful greed turning that smile almost carnivorous. This was the tip she'd been waiting for, running low on caps and means was running her ragged; a dog almost at her ends without the support of her former pack.

"Yeah? Sounds too good to be true almost."

"It's all legit, we're heading out in the morning." He almost seemed pleased with himself, with Vix's angled profile rippling, coy tilts of her head and smile, so he began to step forward, inviting in all the wrong ways until pain blossomed through his palm. His roar was sudden, lifting high into a wail until another sharp lance landed through his opposite gesture, his arms trembling with the intensity of agony that flamed from his hands uselessly dangling at his sides. With knives sheered through flesh and tendons, there was little he could do but just stare after Vix donned with shadow and mirth.

"I don't think you'll make it babe, but that's okay. I'll take your spot. Momma' has got to eat after all." She fanned her fingers in a wave, genuinely grateful with her swagger out from the alley way before she snapped, and pistol-shot her fingers back over her marked shoulder originally responsible.

"Think your boys could cover my tab? Thanks!"

---

⚜️. fighter .

☣ F A L L O U T : Genesis [High-Casual] ☣

I haven't formerly announced my interest, but, I've been steadily working behind the scenes on my character.
So, ya' know. There's that.

Also, I read something about posting turns, the whole three day bit, so we're going to go within structured rounds? Asking for my own scheduling sake.

i. e. // you, me, and then whoever. Repeat in that order.

&&𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒑.

took a small break, will be getting the rest done this week. next day off is Saturday and I can get at least the rest done within that day.

anywho.

@Arya10108909 // looks like a broken image in your current sig, if you directly copied the coded bit i gave, that's my fault. for some reason it takes out the https thing. just type in https:// before the i.imgur. if that makes sense.

&&𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒑.

@Arya10108909 //


[img]i.imgur.com/RVfLkFy.jpg[/img]

&&𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒑.

@Joegreenbeen //


[img]i.imgur.com/DowyU89.jpg[/img]


[img]i.imgur.com/8AZ2fdD.jpg[/img]

here you are. this thing gave me some trouble, but i knocked it out in the end.