NAME
Felix Bordelon
AGE
23
GENDER
Male
SPECIES
Human
HOMETOWN
Shreve’s Port
FACTION
The Forsaken Idealists (Formerly)
The Forsaken Idealists was a name given to a group of human supremacists with a core belief that all sapient non-humans were abandoned to suffer a pitiful, false, and meaningless existence by God. It was their 'God given responsibility' to 'ease their suffering or give purpose to the poor souls' by enslaving any they would encounter and killing those who would resist.
N/A (Current)
Felix stands around 1.8 meters tall and has an athletic build under his clothing, albeit a little undernourished. Underneath the hood and mask, he has short dark brown hair styled to a crew cut and has a slightly good-looking but weather beaten face with forest green eyes. He wears a hand modified hooded field jacket and olive cargo pants. He also wears a well worn pair of trekking boots and red general purpose working gloves but the most striking feature in his appearance is the crimson face mask with lines of white string to resemble a smile, mainly used to prevent breathing in insects and other small foreign objects. The red cloth on his back is water resistant and is used to keep items easily damaged by water dry. Underneath his clothes, Felix wears light segmented armor he had salvaged over the years. While it will not save him from any caliber higher than a 5.56, the armor does not hinder his movements and does not significantly weigh him down. He has a specialized bag he keeps on his waist that is both highly durable and spacious enough for him to carry a good number of items.
While his appearance may seem to be rather intimidating at first, once his mask is off, Felix is actually rather friendly and approachable individual once you get to know him. He smiles often and his green eyes still glimmer with youthful vitality and idealism. He is cooperative most times and does not discriminate much on who he works with and even tries to befriend them, given they share similar ideals and principles. Though generally Felix is friendly and warm; his demeanor changes drastically once he dons his mask. His eyes become dull, cold, and almost empty...its as if a switch flipped off inside of him.
TYPE INFJ-A (The Advocate)
SPECTATOR'S REACTION
I only knew the kid for a while but I can say that his heart is in the right place, selfless too...I think. I mean the guy helps others because, and I quote, "I can." He may be soft spoken but he isn't afraid to speak his mind, may his statement earn him respect or a beating, he stands firm on it. I tell you, if there were more people in the wastes like him, the wastes wouldn't be such a rotting crap hole. Felix is a good person, I swear. Its...Its just that he scares people sometimes when he wears that mask of his; I know that he won't hurt anyone without a good reason but that look in his eyes...its unnatural.
TRAITTrigger Discipline: You’re a sharpshooter of sorts. You know your way around a gun and you know how to make the shot count. That being said, you’re slower to shoot than your friends, and you usually lean towards rifles.
SKILLSCombat SkillEnergy Weapons: The care and feeding of energy-based weapons. How to arm and operate weapons that use laser or plasma technology.
Active Skill(s)Sneak: Quiet movement, and the ability to remain unnoticed. If successful, you will be much harder to locate. You cannot run and sneak at the same time.
PERKHero of the Swampland: You're the first to fire even when presented with quicker-than-possible enemies. Your years of training altruism has led you to this.
STRENGTHS- Sharp Eyed Felix is significantly more perceptive than the rest.
- Agile Felix is more nimble and has faster reaction times than others.
- Slightly More Durable Felix can take some more hits compared to normal folk.
WEAKNESSES- Does not Favor Melee Not completely helpless in melee but would rather avoid it.
- Intimidating Appearance It makes interacting with new folk rather difficult.
- Slightly Below Average Strength He cannot carry as much as compared to others.
WEAPONSFelix's Laser Rifle: The favored weapon of Felix is a modified Wattz 2000 he had bought from a merchant years ago. The rifle sacrifices its barrel length and scope to be more lightweight and not hinder movements when slung over the shoulder.
Felix's .45 Pistol: The secondary weapon of Felix, not often used by him but has been tried and tested to be more than reliable as a fallback weapon.
ARMORCustomized Light Segmented Armor: The segmented plates of armor hidden beneath the his clothes. The armor itself is made from salvaged parts from combat armor pieces to protect vital parts and pieces of riot gear to protect but not hinder movement in key areas.
CHEMICALS- Stimpack x 2
- Rad-away x 2
- Whiskey x 1
- Water x 3
- Fixer x 2
MISCELLANEOUSWorn Bronze Ring: The lone thing Felix has to remember his family. Will refuse take it off his person no matter what and will become violent if item is removed from him unwillingly.
The quiet and placidity of the night is broken by the sounds of footsteps on dirt.
"You...you sure the governor's men don't have patrols here right?" asked a frail and lanky man wielding a what seems to be a home made rifle. "Cause if they do, were in deep shit. I-I can't be related to this kind of things. I'm just a farmer for Chrissake!"
"Shuddup!" Another man, quite portly and carrying a burlap sack over his shoulder and a 10mm pistol, whispers harshly to the lanky man causing him to recoil slightly away from the portly man.
"As far as I know, they don't got any patrols that go this far off but they might. So. stay. quiet. We just need to get the little brat to the buyers and we'll be swimming in caps." He ends with a soft laugh that the lanky man somewhat reluctantly joins.
Even before the two stop quietly laughing, a bolt of crimson light blasts the portly man's head to kingdom come. The sudden death of his companion evidently stresses the remaining man severely as he opts to drop his weapon and fall to his knees screaming in terror. Staring at the stump of a head his formerly living companion now has. Those few moments to him, felt like hours as he screamed his throat raw.
"You do know that slavery is a really big problem, right?" came an unknown voice seemingly out of nowhere.
The lanky man's screaming suddenly stops. Not daring even to look at the general direction where the voice originated. To him this was the end of his life. To be killed in some unknown path on his way to sell a child to slavery. What a fool he was to even consider the offer. Tears begin to flow down his face as he clasped his hands so tightly it bled, begging to God to give him another chance; swearing to him that he would never do this again and live an honest life.
The footfalls come closer and closer. To the man, the sounds might as well have been a dirge. One step closer. Then two. The man, so fervently begging to God, realizes that the man had walked past him and to the corpse of his companion.
"An honest worker like yourself shouldn't be dabbling in these sort of things." The man pauses as he carries the burlap sack carrying the child. "Ahh...good. She still breathing, lucky you." He then walks in-front of the kneeling man. "Look at me when I'm talking to you."
The man, still on his knees, finally dared to look up. There he saw the man towering before him. The moonlight shone on his face, revealing a crimson mask with a sadistic looking smile sown on it covering his face. To the kneeling man the devil himself could have shown a kinder face compared to the visage he saw.
"I believe that you won't be ever doing this again?" The kneeling man nodded so forcefully it wouldn't surprise the man if his head fell off. "That's good to hear." The masked man then quietly nodded in approval before walking back to the direction of town. The kneeling man then promptly fainted as the adrenaline keeping him awake for the whole ordeal subsided.
To this day, that farmer works harder than anyone else on his farm, not wanting to squander the second life so generously given to him.
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