It wasn't long before Iosif and Tanya had been left to handle mop-up work whilst Saseen and the drell headed off to annex the rest of the ship for the Systems Alliance of Let's-Fuck-Siame, and so he quickly took an opportunity to close in when a brief window appeared. Of course, it wasn't long before he noticed Tanya setting her sights on a target, so he threw yet another suppressive barrage towards the two remaining opponents and whilst Tanya had chosen the joy of dealing with an asari, Iosif was left to tackle his fellow man. The distinct crackle and hiss of a prematurely overheated rifle from the former was Iosif's cue to turn his sights on the latter. Punching in yet another one of his favourite omni-tool binds, a crackle of flame licked across the unlucky bastard's visor and left him disoriented, giving Iosif a window to finish him off with another burst of fire from his M-8.
When his eyes shifted across the room to scan for Tanya and her asari target, he witnessed her shaking off the aftereffects of a biotic blast. Obsserving her direction, he answered with a simple but effective nod and followed suit, once more opting to give his Avenger a rest from anymore heat build-up and slipping out his M-6 for some close-and-personal action, just in case any of the remaining crew - if there were any - still wanted to fight a lost battle. At any rate, it seemed he'd spoken too soon when they stumbled upon Kosso and Saseen engaged in a standoff with the remaining crew members; a poor excuse for a defending force if he'd ever seen one. None of them seemed to be equipped beyond their sidearms, and it seemed as if they could've made short work of them if they decided to pull something stupid.
Unlikely when it came to Siame and their professional image, but all the same he gave each of them a look over. Neither of the two salarians didn't strike him as hardened veterans outside of a ship, whilst the turian seemed oddly 'alien' outside of any armour, yet all the same he didn't strike Iosif as a softie somehow. The buzzcut weapon systems operator struck him as a hardass type who's temper threatened to get the better of him, but the one that Iosif was weary of the most was the asari. In the end, it fell down to the simple matter of biotics. It was probably one of the few things he actually hated about asari and with good reason, so he kept his sights set on that one just as a precaution.
After Tanya eventually spoke up to ask which of their motley crew was actually qualified to help run the ship, Iosif quickly gave an answer. "I say we can, and from the looks of it we've got all the right people. Aside from that dropship back there, I can handle co-piloting, navigation and so." Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the ship's original navigator offer him a death glare. That warranted a smirk, at least. His own 'fuck you too, Siame', even if it was just one gesture at a time.
Zombiedude101 Member
Urban
- Last Seen: 8 mos ago
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 694 (0.15 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Zombiedude101 12 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
AtomicEmperor
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
20 October 2077
Portland, Oregon
Morning
Rainfall pattered against the steel plating of Nate's suit, the rattling sound that it made almost dulling his senses to the two gunshots that rang out a couple of blocks away. On instinct, his grip tightened around his R91 and he snapped his head towards the direction of the noise, scanning the street through his visor for any sign of an assault. Nothing, it seemed, but his gut told him to check on it, prompting him to bring a hand over to his radio and speak with a wearied tone. “Anyone got a sitrep on that noise?” For a few moments, nothing, only the sound of rainfall pinging off his helmet, before eventually another voice answered back. “Just two civvies stirring up trouble a couple of blocks away from the perimeter, we’ve dealt with them.” He knew what he meant when his fellow soldier had used the term ‘dealt’. It was always the same, these days. Some poor bastard would get into a fight over something like groceries or gas, and then wind up being cut down when the cavalry arrived.
And what did anyone expect? They were soldiers, not cops and after so many years facing the Chinese in the frozen wastes of Alaska, most of them were unable to differentiate between the concept of ‘war’ and ‘martial law’. And the others, well... he’d heard about those who couldn’t overlook what their orders told them to do for the ‘good of America’, especially after what happened in Canada. Sometimes he thought about joining them, or at least heading back home, but what was home? He’d spent so long living out of FOBs and barracks that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to have a place to call your own. He’d heard plenty of rumours about other deserters headed up north, across the Canadian border, but it would’ve been a long trip and he didn’t even know if there really was a hidden military compound where Uncle Sam’s fighting men could find shelter.
Before he could dwell on it any further, he heard a voice call his name from behind, and when he turned to see who it was he noticed one of the new CO’s that had been assigned to their checkpoint after Captain Morgan had eaten his own gun, unable to cope with what they were doing. “Lieutenant,” he answered, acknowledging the man with a tilt of his T-45d’s helmet. “With me, Sergeant - we’ve got a couple civilians causing some unrest at the other checkpoint.” The Lieutenant, who’s name he couldn’t particularly recall, was a typical ensign fresh out of officer’s school, pushed out onto the streets by the higher ups and willing to follow whatever directives high command passed down to them in a boot-licking effort to earn favour when it came to promotions. When they finally reached the checkpoint, which consisted of a warning sign, a chainlink fence, some haphazardly placed sandbags and the remaining man left behind to watch it, Corporal Quentin, the problem in question became obvious.
A small crowd of civilians, very few of them older than twenty-one at most, had gathered around the other end and started hurling every jarhead insult under the sun at them, alongside the occasional demand for food or gas rations, or an explanation for why their friends or family had been locked up. Reasoning was a pointless effort - the first instances of his fellow american heroes kicking their friends and family down as ‘commies’ before hurling them into the back of a security van had put an end to any chance of reconciliation. Turning to both Nate and Quentin, the Lieutenant quickly spoke up. “Intel reports that we’ve got communist agents that may be trying to stir up more unrest in this area, and to put down any more sign of it - small or large - before it spreads like wildfire, however necessary.” Thing was, it was too late for any of that - sending in Uncle Sam’s finest had just inflamed the passions of the downtrodden. Whilst Quentin was trying to bark orders to disperse over the raging voices of the crowd, the Lieutenant quickly withdrew his sidearm and fired it into the air, intended as a warning shot.
Granted, a few of the crowd’s more timid looking figures quickly fell back, but most of them - young, stubborn and foolish as they were - didn't, instead the volume of the crowd increasing over Corporal Quentin's own shouting voice, stepping further towards the chainlink fence. “Damn civilians, alright - they had their chance. Weapons free, Corporal.” Quentin quickly seemed to balk at the prospect, however - instead voicing his doubts. “Sir, is this necessary? They’re just kids.” From the looks of it however, the Lieutenant didn't like that. Then again, officers like him had tendencies to become defensive whenever their authority - and pride - seemed to be placed into doubt, but he quickly responded with an attempt to reassert his waning authority. “Corporal, don't question my orders.” No dice, however. Quentin seemed to become more fervent with his protest. “Sir, they’re just kids. Do they look like a bunch of fucking commies to you?” Impatiently, the Lieutenant quickly hit back with a “Don’t get insubordinate with me, I can have you court martialed before the week’s over. Now, follow your damn orders.”
A moment passed before the Corporal grimaced, levelled his weapon with the crowd and slipped his hand over the trigger, yet at the last minute, he hesitated and gave the CO a firm glare. “Fuck you, Lieutenant, I’m not gunning down a bunch of fucking kids!” Snorting impatiently, the Lieutenant went to withdraw his own sidearm. “Fine, you can tell your story at the court martial. I’ll handle thi-” The crack of Nate’s R91 putting a round through the Lieutenant’s skull prevented him from finishing off his sentence, whilst Quentin stood there frozen in shock. It took another minute for Nate to realise he was still aiming at where the Lieutenant had been stood. When he looked back towards the street past the confines of the checkpoint, he saw that the crowd had indeed dispersed by this point. ‘However necessary’, was it, Lieutenant? At least he’d be able to say that he never disobeyed orders.
Portland, Oregon
Morning
Rainfall pattered against the steel plating of Nate's suit, the rattling sound that it made almost dulling his senses to the two gunshots that rang out a couple of blocks away. On instinct, his grip tightened around his R91 and he snapped his head towards the direction of the noise, scanning the street through his visor for any sign of an assault. Nothing, it seemed, but his gut told him to check on it, prompting him to bring a hand over to his radio and speak with a wearied tone. “Anyone got a sitrep on that noise?” For a few moments, nothing, only the sound of rainfall pinging off his helmet, before eventually another voice answered back. “Just two civvies stirring up trouble a couple of blocks away from the perimeter, we’ve dealt with them.” He knew what he meant when his fellow soldier had used the term ‘dealt’. It was always the same, these days. Some poor bastard would get into a fight over something like groceries or gas, and then wind up being cut down when the cavalry arrived.
And what did anyone expect? They were soldiers, not cops and after so many years facing the Chinese in the frozen wastes of Alaska, most of them were unable to differentiate between the concept of ‘war’ and ‘martial law’. And the others, well... he’d heard about those who couldn’t overlook what their orders told them to do for the ‘good of America’, especially after what happened in Canada. Sometimes he thought about joining them, or at least heading back home, but what was home? He’d spent so long living out of FOBs and barracks that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to have a place to call your own. He’d heard plenty of rumours about other deserters headed up north, across the Canadian border, but it would’ve been a long trip and he didn’t even know if there really was a hidden military compound where Uncle Sam’s fighting men could find shelter.
Before he could dwell on it any further, he heard a voice call his name from behind, and when he turned to see who it was he noticed one of the new CO’s that had been assigned to their checkpoint after Captain Morgan had eaten his own gun, unable to cope with what they were doing. “Lieutenant,” he answered, acknowledging the man with a tilt of his T-45d’s helmet. “With me, Sergeant - we’ve got a couple civilians causing some unrest at the other checkpoint.” The Lieutenant, who’s name he couldn’t particularly recall, was a typical ensign fresh out of officer’s school, pushed out onto the streets by the higher ups and willing to follow whatever directives high command passed down to them in a boot-licking effort to earn favour when it came to promotions. When they finally reached the checkpoint, which consisted of a warning sign, a chainlink fence, some haphazardly placed sandbags and the remaining man left behind to watch it, Corporal Quentin, the problem in question became obvious.
A small crowd of civilians, very few of them older than twenty-one at most, had gathered around the other end and started hurling every jarhead insult under the sun at them, alongside the occasional demand for food or gas rations, or an explanation for why their friends or family had been locked up. Reasoning was a pointless effort - the first instances of his fellow american heroes kicking their friends and family down as ‘commies’ before hurling them into the back of a security van had put an end to any chance of reconciliation. Turning to both Nate and Quentin, the Lieutenant quickly spoke up. “Intel reports that we’ve got communist agents that may be trying to stir up more unrest in this area, and to put down any more sign of it - small or large - before it spreads like wildfire, however necessary.” Thing was, it was too late for any of that - sending in Uncle Sam’s finest had just inflamed the passions of the downtrodden. Whilst Quentin was trying to bark orders to disperse over the raging voices of the crowd, the Lieutenant quickly withdrew his sidearm and fired it into the air, intended as a warning shot.
Granted, a few of the crowd’s more timid looking figures quickly fell back, but most of them - young, stubborn and foolish as they were - didn't, instead the volume of the crowd increasing over Corporal Quentin's own shouting voice, stepping further towards the chainlink fence. “Damn civilians, alright - they had their chance. Weapons free, Corporal.” Quentin quickly seemed to balk at the prospect, however - instead voicing his doubts. “Sir, is this necessary? They’re just kids.” From the looks of it however, the Lieutenant didn't like that. Then again, officers like him had tendencies to become defensive whenever their authority - and pride - seemed to be placed into doubt, but he quickly responded with an attempt to reassert his waning authority. “Corporal, don't question my orders.” No dice, however. Quentin seemed to become more fervent with his protest. “Sir, they’re just kids. Do they look like a bunch of fucking commies to you?” Impatiently, the Lieutenant quickly hit back with a “Don’t get insubordinate with me, I can have you court martialed before the week’s over. Now, follow your damn orders.”
A moment passed before the Corporal grimaced, levelled his weapon with the crowd and slipped his hand over the trigger, yet at the last minute, he hesitated and gave the CO a firm glare. “Fuck you, Lieutenant, I’m not gunning down a bunch of fucking kids!” Snorting impatiently, the Lieutenant went to withdraw his own sidearm. “Fine, you can tell your story at the court martial. I’ll handle thi-” The crack of Nate’s R91 putting a round through the Lieutenant’s skull prevented him from finishing off his sentence, whilst Quentin stood there frozen in shock. It took another minute for Nate to realise he was still aiming at where the Lieutenant had been stood. When he looked back towards the street past the confines of the checkpoint, he saw that the crowd had indeed dispersed by this point. ‘However necessary’, was it, Lieutenant? At least he’d be able to say that he never disobeyed orders.
I'm not dead either, no worries. Glad to see another Tanya/Hangar post up, I'll get to working on one soon.
Missed that second one there, but it was never really my intention to use the suit as an excuse to throw my weight around. I'll probably wind up giving myself an excuse for him to ditch the helmet, at least. Might help remove the impersonal doombringer element you usually associate with people hiding behind PA.
For the record, I know the limits of PA and I don't intend to stretch what's already been established in the games. Also, something tells me there's going to be a fair bit of tension or even a power struggle between Primo and Nate, assuming either of them wind up trying to assume a leadership role. Could be just me, but there seems to be a similarity to the two in that they're both willing to make hard decisions if the means justify the ends, and also how they seem to be a product of exposure to their surroundings. Will be good.
Mostly finished my application, I've got the description to do but otherwise the backstory's finished. By the way, is it alright if my guy starts off in a suit of T-51b, given how they've been deploying it against the civil unrest? I figured it would make a nice explanation for how he survives the initial bombing, since I know the PA can to some degree protect the wearer from radiation exposure so long as it remains sealed.
Name: Sergeant Nathan Vikowski
Date of Birth: 20/02/2046 (What is it with Americans and their incorrect method of organising dates?)
Physical Description: Standing at a rough height of about 5'11, Nate is a man who's prematurely aged beyond his years, having the body of someone in their early thirties but the eyes and the world-weariness of one at least a score past that. His hair is a coarse, charcoal colour, kept trimmed down to a typical crew cut that you might see with a lot of soldiers, whilst he keeps his jaw and cheeks trimmed of any noticable facial hair as is required amongst the US Army's personnel. His eyes are a pale blue, due in part to his distant Polish ancestry, and his hardened expression reminds one of the thousand-yard stare one sees in older war films from times long since passed. Physically, he's of a fairly average build, though years of military training and routine have toned him up and left him with especially strengthened limbs, alongside a number of faded scars from his lengthy service in Alaska. The most notable of his injuries, however, would be just below the knee of his left leg which has left him with a pronounced limp whenever he walks on it, though he otherwise functions normally.
Image: Can't really find one that suits at the moment, description will have to do for now.
Profession: US Army Infantryman
Background: Born in suburban Los Angeles as the elder son of a career soldier, Nate spent his early years surrounded by patriotic zeal and eventually came to aspire towards the idea of following in his old man's footsteps and enlisting in the army. At the same time, the United States' growing tensions with China over their oil supply led many to believe that a war with the 'Filthy Reds' was all but inevitable, and only a year after Nate enlisted in the army at the age of eighteen, the Chinese invasion of Alaska had begun, and the United States initiated the Anchorage Campaign.
Naive and green as they came, Nate was unprepared for the bleak truth of war that the patriotic zeal and glorification of military service had always swept under the rug, and by the end of his first eighteen months he was one of remaining half of the original members of his unit that hadn't been killed or captured by the enemy. He'd lost more than a few friends and when the psychological effect was noticed, instead of being sent home he was promoted to Corporal and temporarily re-assigned to prison camp duty, where he saw just as many horrors inflicted on Chinese POWs and at times found himself doing the same. He became somewhat disconnected the ideals that the US were meant to stand for, but continued his service as the 'loyal grunt' he was expected to be.
Eventually he was able to ship home on leave for a few months, having been unable to correspond with his family except through short letters. When he came to visit them in LA, he learned that his younger brother Wyatt had secretly enlisted despite being underage, courtesy of Uncle Sam's loosening of regulations so the Anchorage Front Line could be reinforced. Knowing what harsh reality awaited his brother, Nate quickly returned to active service to find out which unit Wyatt had been assigned to. It was only a few months later that he learned that his brother had been captured and transferred to a POW camp far behind enemy lines. He knew the kind of treatment the kid was in for, and so he chose to willingly endure additional service on the frontline with the hope that if he helped to see the war through, he'd be able to liberate Wyatt from captivity before it was too late.
To this end, he successfully transferred to the mechanised heavy infantry division which saw the brunt of the action and placed him in the so-called 'mouth of the red dragon', a notoriously dangerous field of operation aptly named for the strategic advantage held over it by the Chinese woth their 'dragon's breath' artillery strikes. Wearing the newly developed power armour that the US believed could help win the war, Nate spent the next few years in bloody fighting until the war was all-but won for the US, the Chinese prison camps having been all but liberated by the American forces. However, during one of the few final pushes to liberate the remaining camps - where Wyatt was still being held - military command gave orders to pull back in order to protect a depot for Poseidon Energy which was said to hold a number of corporate VIPs, several of whom were known to be massive supporters of US Politicians. Despite the fact that the depot was hardly acknowledged by the retreating Chinese, preoccupied with covering their own receding lines, Nate's command had deemed it 'important' enough to hold off liberating the remaining POWs until reinforcements arrived.
Alas, reinforcements finally arrived to relieve the 'glorified bodyguards' of their duties, it was too late for the POWs - in a policy of 'salting-the-earth' during their retreat and out of revenge for their own executed prisoners, the Chinese had executed most of the American prisoners en-masse before demolishing the camps to rubble to leave no trace behind, Wyatt listed amongst the dead. To add salt to the wound, a dejected Nate was quickly shipped back home only to find himself being placed alongside law enforcement agencies in a desperate attempt to keep the peace as American men, women and children began protesting and rioting over shortages of food and oil. After seeing the men who were meant to be 'protecting Free America' by beating back the crowds in their power armour, and how the government seemed to be whitewashing the whole deal with 'minor incidents of unrest', it was then that Nate realised how his brother, along with hundreds of other Americans had been willingly sacrificed to protect the private interests of a few 'suits' for little gain for the American people, and he became disillusioned with the ideals and the country that he'd given up a brother and over a decade of his life to serve. With stories of deserters reaching him from as far as newly annexed Canada, Nate found himself contemplating joining their ranks as the eve of nuclear holocaust was upon them all.
Personality: Given his original circumstances for enlisting in the military, Nate himself isn't a particularly ammoral or otherwise antagonistic individual, rather another unfortunate example of how exposure to violence and warfare can shape a man into something worse. Having spent close to a decade fighting the Chinese in Anchorage, then returning home to find the next 'enemy' were the Americans he'd initially enlisted to defend, Nate's psyche has already been pushed to breaking point, leaving him prone to violent outbursts in which he lashes out against those who disagree or otherwise become 'obstacles' to his own goals, either through verbal intimidation or physical confrontaton. In particular, he distrusts authority figures who can't 'prove' themselves capable of handling their role, and he equally mistrusts political figures - whom he views as having always used soldiers such as himself as pawns for their own personal gain, but in contrast he is more likely to be accepting of like-minded or working-class individuals and in a situation of crisis he's often one to step up to the role of a figure of leadership or guidance of such people. Also, despite his temperamental shortcomings, he had a tendency to display fierce loyalty towards those who align their beliefs with his own, those who take his side in situations of crsis and those who've suffered similar situations of loss or otherwise traumatic experiences due to the war.
SPECIAL:
Strength 6
Perception 7
Endurance 8
Charisma 4
Intelligence 6
Agility 4
Luck 3
This is still a WIP, so.. yeah.
Date of Birth: 20/02/2046 (What is it with Americans and their incorrect method of organising dates?)
Physical Description: Standing at a rough height of about 5'11, Nate is a man who's prematurely aged beyond his years, having the body of someone in their early thirties but the eyes and the world-weariness of one at least a score past that. His hair is a coarse, charcoal colour, kept trimmed down to a typical crew cut that you might see with a lot of soldiers, whilst he keeps his jaw and cheeks trimmed of any noticable facial hair as is required amongst the US Army's personnel. His eyes are a pale blue, due in part to his distant Polish ancestry, and his hardened expression reminds one of the thousand-yard stare one sees in older war films from times long since passed. Physically, he's of a fairly average build, though years of military training and routine have toned him up and left him with especially strengthened limbs, alongside a number of faded scars from his lengthy service in Alaska. The most notable of his injuries, however, would be just below the knee of his left leg which has left him with a pronounced limp whenever he walks on it, though he otherwise functions normally.
Image: Can't really find one that suits at the moment, description will have to do for now.
Profession: US Army Infantryman
Background: Born in suburban Los Angeles as the elder son of a career soldier, Nate spent his early years surrounded by patriotic zeal and eventually came to aspire towards the idea of following in his old man's footsteps and enlisting in the army. At the same time, the United States' growing tensions with China over their oil supply led many to believe that a war with the 'Filthy Reds' was all but inevitable, and only a year after Nate enlisted in the army at the age of eighteen, the Chinese invasion of Alaska had begun, and the United States initiated the Anchorage Campaign.
Naive and green as they came, Nate was unprepared for the bleak truth of war that the patriotic zeal and glorification of military service had always swept under the rug, and by the end of his first eighteen months he was one of remaining half of the original members of his unit that hadn't been killed or captured by the enemy. He'd lost more than a few friends and when the psychological effect was noticed, instead of being sent home he was promoted to Corporal and temporarily re-assigned to prison camp duty, where he saw just as many horrors inflicted on Chinese POWs and at times found himself doing the same. He became somewhat disconnected the ideals that the US were meant to stand for, but continued his service as the 'loyal grunt' he was expected to be.
Eventually he was able to ship home on leave for a few months, having been unable to correspond with his family except through short letters. When he came to visit them in LA, he learned that his younger brother Wyatt had secretly enlisted despite being underage, courtesy of Uncle Sam's loosening of regulations so the Anchorage Front Line could be reinforced. Knowing what harsh reality awaited his brother, Nate quickly returned to active service to find out which unit Wyatt had been assigned to. It was only a few months later that he learned that his brother had been captured and transferred to a POW camp far behind enemy lines. He knew the kind of treatment the kid was in for, and so he chose to willingly endure additional service on the frontline with the hope that if he helped to see the war through, he'd be able to liberate Wyatt from captivity before it was too late.
To this end, he successfully transferred to the mechanised heavy infantry division which saw the brunt of the action and placed him in the so-called 'mouth of the red dragon', a notoriously dangerous field of operation aptly named for the strategic advantage held over it by the Chinese woth their 'dragon's breath' artillery strikes. Wearing the newly developed power armour that the US believed could help win the war, Nate spent the next few years in bloody fighting until the war was all-but won for the US, the Chinese prison camps having been all but liberated by the American forces. However, during one of the few final pushes to liberate the remaining camps - where Wyatt was still being held - military command gave orders to pull back in order to protect a depot for Poseidon Energy which was said to hold a number of corporate VIPs, several of whom were known to be massive supporters of US Politicians. Despite the fact that the depot was hardly acknowledged by the retreating Chinese, preoccupied with covering their own receding lines, Nate's command had deemed it 'important' enough to hold off liberating the remaining POWs until reinforcements arrived.
Alas, reinforcements finally arrived to relieve the 'glorified bodyguards' of their duties, it was too late for the POWs - in a policy of 'salting-the-earth' during their retreat and out of revenge for their own executed prisoners, the Chinese had executed most of the American prisoners en-masse before demolishing the camps to rubble to leave no trace behind, Wyatt listed amongst the dead. To add salt to the wound, a dejected Nate was quickly shipped back home only to find himself being placed alongside law enforcement agencies in a desperate attempt to keep the peace as American men, women and children began protesting and rioting over shortages of food and oil. After seeing the men who were meant to be 'protecting Free America' by beating back the crowds in their power armour, and how the government seemed to be whitewashing the whole deal with 'minor incidents of unrest', it was then that Nate realised how his brother, along with hundreds of other Americans had been willingly sacrificed to protect the private interests of a few 'suits' for little gain for the American people, and he became disillusioned with the ideals and the country that he'd given up a brother and over a decade of his life to serve. With stories of deserters reaching him from as far as newly annexed Canada, Nate found himself contemplating joining their ranks as the eve of nuclear holocaust was upon them all.
Personality: Given his original circumstances for enlisting in the military, Nate himself isn't a particularly ammoral or otherwise antagonistic individual, rather another unfortunate example of how exposure to violence and warfare can shape a man into something worse. Having spent close to a decade fighting the Chinese in Anchorage, then returning home to find the next 'enemy' were the Americans he'd initially enlisted to defend, Nate's psyche has already been pushed to breaking point, leaving him prone to violent outbursts in which he lashes out against those who disagree or otherwise become 'obstacles' to his own goals, either through verbal intimidation or physical confrontaton. In particular, he distrusts authority figures who can't 'prove' themselves capable of handling their role, and he equally mistrusts political figures - whom he views as having always used soldiers such as himself as pawns for their own personal gain, but in contrast he is more likely to be accepting of like-minded or working-class individuals and in a situation of crisis he's often one to step up to the role of a figure of leadership or guidance of such people. Also, despite his temperamental shortcomings, he had a tendency to display fierce loyalty towards those who align their beliefs with his own, those who take his side in situations of crsis and those who've suffered similar situations of loss or otherwise traumatic experiences due to the war.
SPECIAL:
Strength 6
Perception 7
Endurance 8
Charisma 4
Intelligence 6
Agility 4
Luck 3
This is still a WIP, so.. yeah.
I'm still interested, by the way, I've just not had much of a chance to write up an app as of yet.
Halo said
Just noting that I'm 100% still in this, but the last few hostels haven't had a computer I can use to post and my phone is struggling to cope even with this short post x_x
Same here, to be honest I've been away or otherwise occupied over the past week and I figured it'd be best to wait until I see another post in the hangar bay before throwing up another one for Iosif.
Dervish said
Hey gang, half way through vacation! Hope you haven't missed me too much. When I get back, I'll be doing some NPC stuff mainly for each group to keep things dynamic and sending messages out to our two reserve players to see if they still want in on this. I'll be writing out both Hank and Vakte's charactersas well. Thanks for bearing with me! I've loved the characters and posts so far, and before you know it we'll all be listening to the galaxy map music and choosing our own adventures. I have 3 missions to follow up this one that you guys will be able to do in whichever order you like and I have random encounters planned, so stick with it. :D
Sounds good, at any rate.
Been on a few Fallout RP's on Garry's Mod before, and I've always been a fan of the series since spending most of Summer 09 playing through FO3. Also, bonus props for referencing TTG's Masterpiece.
So yeah, I'm fairly interested.
So yeah, I'm fairly interested.
© 2007-2026