Charles,
Gathering his bearings, Charles loosens the buttons on his jacket, it was significantly hotter out in Nevada than it was back East. Charles certainly missed the mild weather, but Nevada was a change up, though it was rather dull in comparison to the bustling ruins of a city. Robyn had dragged Charles & a small pack of Dark Ones across the state, mostly with the help of Caravans in route to the Grand Canyon or California. It was a long & treacherous journey, the pair had lost twelve men along the way, & tensions were rising as a few members decided to bail halfway through, much to Robyn's dismay. Entering the dodgy saloon by the name of "Prospectors Saloon", Charles is almost immediately relieved by the shade. It'd been hours since he was in an average climate & not sweating his balls off. Upon inspection, Charles notices how quaint the saloon is, it certainly doesn't lack in appearance as its decor is more western cowboy based, but he feels a strong cozy feeling, as though he could drink away his sorrows in this saloon. Turning to Robyn, Charles smiles, her suntanned face looks rather cute, though the trail of sweat from her forehead is slightly off putting, though Charles learned to deal with Robyn's quirks over a span of two or three years. They'd been happily together, & as far as Charles was concerned, she looked better than ever, & that was always. Robyn smiles back at Charles before proceeding to the main bar of the small saloon. Country music sounded in the bar, looking in, Charles could see how nicely decorated the bar was. Shot glasses, whiskey glasses, & more lined the bar table & walls. Sitting on the shelves, organized by brand, beer, scotch, & other whiskeys sat neatly in place. A man with a cowboy hat sat on the nearest bar stool, making love to his tonic & gin. Robyn takes a seat in the farthest bar stool, typical, looks to Charles, & playfully pats the seat next to her with her right hand. Charles smiles & proceeds to take a seat next to her. Letting his hood down, Charles runs his hands through his sweaty, unkempt hair, it leaves his hands moist, which he wipes away on his pants.
The music playing in the background is soothing, calm & relaxing, though certainly nothing Charles had heard before. He knew it was country music of the sort, but had mostly dismissed it as music for he rarely cared. Though Robyn had made sure he did, after all, she owned "Dark Aid" & often paraded him about on it, including broadcasting a more intimate & private moment over the radio, much to Charles dismay.
A short, dark haired lady emerges from what appears to be a back room. She's carrying a shot glass in her hands, her eyes drift to Robyn & Charles as she steps behind the bar counter.
-"You two don't look like you're from around here, you from back east?" The woman asks.
Charles ponders how this woman would get that assumption, considering Robyn was clearly dawning a cowboy hat.
-"Yes." Robyn responds quickly.
The woman looks to Robyn, clearly she thought Charles was the one who'd answered, but after a few years with her, Charles knew better. He was manly enough to admit that Robyn slightly intimidated him, but he was sure the same was reciprocated to her. The woman smiles, as though she knew Robyn, though it was evident that she didn't.
-"So, where you from?" She asks with a warm smile.
-"None of your business." Robyn responds rudely.
The woman slightly frowns at Robyn's response, obviously confused by the hostility.
-"She means that we're from D.C." Charles quickly says so as to defuse the imminent reprisal the woman would give.
Robyn glares at Charles as the woman turns her attention to him.
-"D.C. huh? How is it there?" She asks, her expression loosening up.
-"Oh, it's-uh, fine, I guess, cooler than here." Charles responds calmly.
The women laughs.
-"I get that alot from travelers."
Charles smiles as the woman leans over the bar counter, clearly exposing her cleavage, Robyn spots Charles eyes on them & kicks his leg.
-"So, you guys carvaners, or just passin through?" She asks.
-"We're just pass-
-"We're intending to take over Vegas." Robyn interrupts with a wicked smile.
The woman raises her eyebrows.
-"Well, that's not a first." She says.
Robyn gives her a cunning smile, Charles loved these, the made her look cute.
-"Surely." Robyn responds.
The woman reciprocates a faint laugh.
-"Well, anyways, my names Trudy, I'm the owner of this here saloon." She says.
-"Nice to meet you Trudy, I'm Charles & this is Robyn." Charles says, shaking her extended hand.
Trudy looks onto Robyn who gives her the eye for checking Charles out.
-"You two traveling alone or you got some friends?" Trudy asks.
-"We've got a small group, they're just outside." Charles responds.
-"Ah, so you two run in a gang?"
-"Technically an empire, but whatever strikes your fancy." Charles says.
Trudy laughs.
-"You guys ain't like them Legion folk, are you?" She asks.
-"Legion?" Charles says.
-"Wow, you guys really are from the East, you seriously don't know about Caesars Legion?"
Charles shakes his head in response. Trudy raises her brows.
-"Well, they are-were a group of horrible slavers who use to terrorize these parts."
Charles looks to Robyn who's expression is blank.
-"No, we're not like that." Charles responds.
-"Good, no need for more violence." Trudy says.
-"I hear you." Charles says.
-"So, you guys thirsty? I've got some freshly brewed beer, or some Sunset Sarsaparilla if you prefer?"
-"Sunset Sarsaparilla?" Charles asks.
-"Yeah, it's probably the only good non-alcoholic drink out there." Trudy says with a faint smile.
-"Uh, have you tried Nuka-Cola?" Charles asks, raising a brow.
-"Oh yes, not my style though, too...dark for my taste, if you know what I mean."
-"Well, different strokes for different folks, I guess."
-"Don't say that." Robyn says firmly.
-"Why not?" Charles says, turning his attention to Robyn.
-"Sounds wrong." She says through a smirk.
Charles smiles at her.
-"Don't get me started with what sounds wrong missy." Charles says playfully.
-"Oh I'll get you started mister." She responds.
Robyn is clearly blushing through her sunburn. Trudy grabs their attention back.
-"So, what'll be guys?" Trudy asks through a fake cough.
-"I'll-uh-have some Scotch, please, she'll have an Atomic Cocktail." Charles responds, turning to her.
Trudy nods in response & grabs a shortened whiskey glass & a bottle of Scotch. Robyn kisses Charles on his cheek & rests her head on his shoulder, her cowboy hat slightly tipping upwards. Charles wraps his hand around to her left hip, pulling her in closer to him before kissing her head.
Trudy returns with the Atomic Cocktail & Scotch. She smiles warmly as she sets them down in front of them.
-"Will that be all?" She asks.
-"Yes." Robyn responds.
-"Okay, that'll be ten caps." She says.
Charles rummages in his right pocket, his finger brushes against the rough bottle caps. Pulling ten out, he places them on the counter. Trudy counts out the bottlecaps, her eyes pause on the blue-star cap.
-"I don't reckon you know what you've just given me?" Trudy asks, picking the cap up & looking to Charles before turning it over so that the star faced him.
-"A bottlecap?" Charles responds.
-"Not just any bottlecap, a Sunset Sarsaparilla Star Bottle Cap."
-"A what?" Charles asks, frowning; still holding Robyn close to him.
-"A Star bottlecap."
-"So?"
-"You're very fortunate to have come across it, not so many do."
-"Is there something special about it, well, besides it being a bottlecap?" Charles asks.
-"Yes, there is, it's said there's a man by the name of "Festus" who's been keeping a steady vigil for these things. Supposedly, he'll give a treasure if you bring enough of them to him." Trudy responds, handing the cap back to him.
-"Oh, a treasure, that sounds-
-"Very profitable." Robyn interrupts Charles.
Two hundred years ago, on October, 31, 2077, America was plunged into Nuclear War with China. This war was started over fossil fuel, after China invaded America's annexed Alaska to obtain the last supply of fossil fuel. The war cost the lives of thousands, but was eventually one. However, sometime after, America entered a war that would end all wars. The Great War, as many called it, the war that turned America into an unforgiving, desolate, wasteland. Those who were fortunate enough to seek residence within large underground vaults constructed by Vault Tec, were sparred the horrors of radiation & death. Though this was surely not the end of humanity outside the confined walls of the vaults, in fact, many survived, though at the cost of mutation. Rising from the ashes of the Old World, Humans & Ghouls rebuilt civilization in the Wasteland & adopted Old World Ideas. Several settlements were constructed & the Wasteland became habitable again, despite the mutated creatures & persistent danger of radiation poisoning. But through it all, what seemed impossible became possible. But soon, there were issues. Factions arose with varying ideas of peace & order, & many struggled to gain a foothold in the Wasteland. The New California Republic is amongst those factions, they sought to reestablish democracy & law to the wastes, but an opposing faction by the name of Caesars Legion have a very different opinion of order. The autocratic, ultra-reactionary, utilitarian slaver community had their own views & battled out with the NCR over Hoover Dam, the central source of power in most of Nevada. Though the battle was one by the NCR & for a few years, there was a moment of silence as the Legion rebuilt their strength beyond the Colorado River. The Second Battle ended in a standstill between both sides, both lost large amounts of soldiers & soon after, the NCR loosened it's control of Nevada as a much more persistent threat back in California required the NCR's full attention. Caesars Legion slowly disbanded after Legate Lanius & Caesar died, Caesar fell due to his untreated tumor & Lanius was slain in battle. The infighting for control led to it's inevitable destruction.
It's been five years since the Second Battle of Hoover Dam & ten years since the Purifier Incident. The NCR now pushes to regain control in Nevada & other western based states. A new wave of control & power is being surged through America, Old World ideas are returning to the wastes. & while many struggle to cope with these changes, others seem to grasp it easily.
Rules:
No Power Gaming.
No Meta Gaming.
No God Modding.
No One Line IG (In Game) sentences.
When talking OC (Out of Character) use brackets, ((,)).
Language is Allowed.
Groups are Allowed.
Romances are Allowed.
Drug/Alcohol/Etc. references & usage is Allowed.
Please put the word 'Fallout' in your app to prove that you've read these rules & agree to follow them.
Violence of any nature is Allowed (& encouraged).
You may make an NPC & control it, but if you wish to control or kill another player's NPC, please ask for permission.
You can die from Dehydration/Hunger/Sleep Deprivation/Radiation Poisoning/Stings from mutated creatures/& wounds. To prevent these from occurring, when injured use 'Stimpaks' or 'Doctors Bags', when irradiated, use 'Rad-Away' or 'RadX' to eliminate or prevent Radiation poisoning. With stings, use 'Antivenom' to heal. Pretty much any river, ocean, etc. is un-irradiated, small puddles are however.
'Stimpaks' are rare.
Fallout references are Allowed.
You can become a Ghoul if you are highly irradiated.
You can become a Supermutant if exposed to too much FEV.
There are friendly Supermutants.
You may forge a Faction.
You may join a Faction.
You may destroy a Faction (With permission).
You have three warnings, If you break the rules three times, I will kick you from the RP & murder your character.
Application Format:
Name-
Age(Between 15 & 45)- Gender(Male/Female/Both)-
Race(Human/Ghoul/Supermutant/Android)-
Ethnicity(Caucasian/African American/Asian/Etc.)- Physical Appearance(Body Type and Facial/Picture or Description)- Clothing- Personality(Characteristics)-
Karma(Good, Neutral, Evil)- Biography-
Vault Dweller(Yes/No)-
Faction(Optional)-
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.(You have 44 Points, Special stands for Strength, Perception, Endurance, Charisma, Intelligence, Agility, Luck, max points in one skill set is ten)-
Race(Human/Ghoul/Supermutant/Android)-Human Ethnicity(Caucasian/African American/Asian/Etc.)-Caucasian Physical Appearance(Body Type and Facial/Picture or Description)-Standing roughly around 6'1 ft, & weighing 180 lbs, Charles is a barrel chested, broad-shoulder, & toned muscled man. The work he does often gives him the strength to complete certain tasks, but his slim stature often misguides him. As for his facial region, Charles looks gruff & tough, but sticks to a clean cut appearance, often maintaining a pleasant appearance. He has long & wavy dark brown hair, though with streaks of grey in it followed by a trimmed stubble. His eyes are a genetically modified pale blue, though their original color is long forgotten. With slightly pronounced cheekbones & a firm jaw, he certainly doesn't lack in attractiveness.
Clothing-Keeping up with his mostly clean cut appearance, Charles wears typically nice clothing. He can often be seen wearing the standard Dark Ones fatigues, but in his off time, he dresses in Pre-War clothing. When traveling, he dawns his old Regulator Duster.
Personality(Characteristics)-Being a former Drug Addict, Charles is a hardened man, seen enough death in his travels to last a life time, but he sticks to it because he likes the danger, the constant thrill of living life to the fullest. He's cynical, which often gets in the way of his judgement, though he has a strong moral sense, despite this. His sarcastic humor is unaltered by his hardened personality, & is often to crack a joke. Being cocky certainly doesn't help as he's more than once gotten in over his head, but he learns to maneuver around situations through using his superior intelligence & charisma. From an early age, Charles would be described as cunning & resourceful, both of these have helped him through most of his endeavors. Besides this, he's determined & strong-willed, despite being a former addict.
Karma(Good, Neutral, Evil)-Neutral, though this has been tested, considering that he's apart of the infamous Dark Ones, he's shown to have varying compassion for anyone who gets in his way, but his heart's in the right place as he commonly doesn't go looking for trouble & respects people & treats them fairly. Biography-Born into slavery at the central slave trading hub, Paradise Falls, Charles had a rough upbringing, only knowing his mother for eight years. His father remains unknown, but he suspects that he was a slaver who rapped his mom. At an early age, Charles learned to farm & do manual labor. He had a strong grasp on growing certain crops & treating Brahmin, which made him a valuable slave. After his mother was sold & removed from Paradise Falls, Charles spent a quarter of a year without any parental guidance, until a sympathetic slaver by the name of Kevin Newbury taught him how to read & write. Kevin was a man who was in over his head with debts & to help pay them off, he set up a deal with Eulogy & reluctantly became a slaver. Seeing as how Charles was one of the few slaves that could most likely make a difference, Kevin decided to teach Charles to betterment his skills, though this came at a hefty price as it cost Kevin his life. At age nineteen, Charles was sold to a cannibalistic family. Charles murdered all three members out of self defense, but was emotionally damaged by it & sought guidance. With nobody to help him, he found comfort in alcohol abuse. Though within a year, he signed up with the Regulators & went on a job. It was a simple enough job, kill Eulogy. Though the plan went south & Charles was mortally wounded & left to die. A traveling merchant came across Charles & brought him back to Canterbury Commons were he healed up & within a year; became a caravan guard. After about three years as a guard, Charles decided to get into a more serious position & signed up to the Rivet City Guard. Spending a large majority of his twenties as as guard, Charles was later fired. During the last few months as a guard, Charles became addicted to Jet after succumbing to temptation while preforming a drugs bust on a citizen. Banned from Rivet City & having nowhere else to turn, Charles resided in Megaton where he was mostly wasted in a bar or held up in a clinic, begging for more Med-X. Then came along a woman named Robyn, she ran a faction called the "Dark Ones". Having nothing better to do & being intrigued by this woman, Charles signed up & within a week became Robyn's second in command & boyfriend.
Vault Dweller(Yes/No)-No
Faction(Optional)-Former Regulator/Former Caravan Guard/Former Rivet City Guard/Former Brotherhood of Steel member(Possible)/Second in Command of the Dark Ones
S.P.E.C.I.A.L.(You have 44 Points, Special stands for Strength, Perception, Endurance, Charisma, Intelligence, Agility, Luck, max points in one skill set is ten)-S:6, P:5, E:6, C:7, I:10, A:5, L:5
City/Location-Outskirts of Nevada Inventory(11 Items or Less)-Colt Python w/ ten rounds/Bottled Water/Two MRE's/Sawed-Off Shotgun w/ five shells/Two Stimpaks/Antivenom/Assault Rifle w/ five clips/Machete. Colt Python is carried in a hip holster, Sawed-Off Shotgun is placed in a right thigh holster, Assault Rifle is carried on his back(strap keeps it steady), other supplies are carried in a rucksack.
Other-Fallout
Side Notes:
This RP is set in Seasons that end at the end of each month.
Seasons:
Season 1: The Long Road- In Progress...
Ending note:
If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to inform me.
Charles,
Looking onto Robyn, Charles nods.
-"Do you know a thing about these snobs Robyn? I've met some of them, they're not the most pleasant, they hate ghouls." Charles says.
The morning sun rose high above Tenpenny Towers, the building cast a shadow before the Dark Ones & Robyn's family. The tower resembled it's pre war essence, luxurious, beautiful, it was a sight to see, however most couldn't see it because of it's distant location & well everything about it was off putting, unfriendly. The people you'd call friends would back stab you any day to reach their next payment of caps. & Mr. Tenpenny wasn't the most pleasant man, get on his good side & you end up rich, swimming in caps, get on his bad side & you end up dead. Charles questioned if this place was even safe to be around, he felt like every guard was staring at him, pointing their guns directly at him, their fingers mere centimeters from the trigger.
Jon,
The simplicity of the vial was mere child's play to Jon, his thoughts swarmed over it's probability, the essence & great importance it held was repeated in his head. It was a compound, not just any compound, the compound, whatever was causing these children to change at age eighteen was surely, no merely, mild, it could be worse, much, much worse. Forbidding subject experiments outside of the prison was not going to stop Jon, not after how far he'd come.
Mrs. Daniels enters the room, the atmosphere changes drastically as Jon's brainwaves tap into hers. He can feel her thoughts, read them, see them through his own eyes, liking reading scripture. She smiles warmly, her thoughts resignate around Jon, somewhat disturbing, granted, arousing thoughts, but Jon had to stay focused, the more he experienced her thoughts the more his brain would adapt to be like hers. It was common, tap into one another's brain, read their thoughts & experience their feelings, emotions, you become entuned to their brains frequency.
-"Mr. Isaacs, I have the reports." She says warmly.
-"Gabbie, you've known me for to long to refer to me as "Mr.Isaacs"." Jon says, his eyes still focused on the vial as he extracts a small dab of the liquid.
-"Well, Jon, here are the reports."
-"Set 'em on my desk please." Jon responds, paying little attention to her.
Gabbie proceeds to follow his instructions, placing the clipboard on the mahogany desk that had papers, envelopes, & more spread untidily across it's polished surface.
-"You think you'd learn to clean up after yourself every once & awhile." Gabbie says under her breath.
-"No time to clean." Jon says, placing the essence on a glass slate.
-"You never have time."
-"Precisely."
-"Well you should, you've been working for days, I mean do you even sleep?" Gabbie says, pacing around.
-"No."
Gabbie stops pacing & raises an eyebrow, the seriousness in Jon's tone was slightly unsettling.
-"I'm going to assume that was sarcasm." Gabbie responds.
-"Do I sound sarcastic?"
-"I hope that's what you sound like when you're being sarcastic."
-"Yes Gabbie, I sleep." Jon says in an exaggerating tone.
-"Well, that's good I guess, I mean-
-"That was sarcasm." Jon says, zooming in on the essence with the microscope.
Gabbie, frowns, Jon truly was a confusing man, hard to figure out.
-"Alright, well-
-"Shhh!" Jon says.
Gabbie faintly laughs.
-"You & your work." She says, exiting the room.
-"Can you get me a coffee while you're leaving?" Jon says, still peering through the microscope.
-"I don't know, can I?" Gabbie responds playfully.
-"Can you please."
-"Sure thing Jon." She says with a laugh, exiting the office.
Appearance:Standing 6'0 ft tall & weighing in at 184 lbs, Jon is by all means an intimidating man. His slim yet muscular body frame coupled with being broad-shouldered gives him the perfect stance for a man of his position. Jon has toned muscles, but is by no means ripped(has pecks & a four pack). His eyes are a pale blue & his wavy graying black hair marks his age, followed closely by distinguishable wrinkles. Jon maintains a relatively clean-cut appearance, though he wears a slight stubble. His clothes consist of plain colored v-necks, slim bootcut jeans, & short work boots. When it's cold, he dawns a leather jacket with a zip up hoodie under neath. Basically, he wears what's depicted.
Personality:Jon closely follows a strong moral code that guidelines his actions, only kill if necessary. Jon uses his intellectual strength to further benefit his thought process & is quick to make a decision. His resourcefulness helps him out in means of combat, giving him a strategic edge, counter balanced by being rather cunning. Coupled with this, he's got a strong will as shown on several occasions, & is determined to see the job through. Adding to his intellectual superiority, he's cynical, combine this with his sarcastic humor & you get a colorful character. Jon has been shown to use his charisma in certain situations, often charming whoever he can & putting off numerous facades that often benefit him. In certain scenarios, Jon exhibits a ruthless behavior, showing little remorse when operating to inflict intimidation in his enemies eyes.
Fears:Afraid of loosing his children to the prison.
Power:Telepathy
Weakness:Can't use Telepathy when fighting(Causes Distraction of thought process), can't penetrate barriers such as metal helmets or brain wave blocking barriers.
Possessions:Picture of his son & daughter. Long Barrel Colt Python w/ ten rounds. Pocket Watch. Bio (Optional):Unknown(But will detail over a period of posts )
Theme Song: (Optional)Into the Fray - Marc Streitenfeld
Charles,
Paradise Falls, the small strip mall that'd been converted into a central slave trade hub. To some, it was a way to earn caps, to others, it was the center of evil. Slavers resided within the fenced off walls of Paradise, barely exposing the evil transactions that were held, the people that were sold for caps. Rocky terrain surrounded the complex, somewhat shrouding the small strip mall from the Capital Wasteland, & any anti-slavery wastelander who dared come close to it.
That was the description before the mass attack led by the Dark Ones, a faction of "Do Gooders" with evil intentions of taking over the Capital Wasteland for theirs, like Caesars Legion. The battle took two hours, & though the Dark Ones numbers significantly decreased, through stealth & marksmanship, eventually, one by one, each slaver was put down. Some escaped the compound, others who were unfortunate enough were left for either Robyn's wrath or the judgement of any "Darker" as Robyn had named her initiates who were in reality, hired mercenaries working for their next payment of caps.
Two weeks had passed since the attack. Word had eventually reached other slaving settlements who were angered by this attack. Not only was Paradise the central slave settlement, all caps ended up there, it was the center of the slaving community in the Capital Wasteland. Mercer, a underling sent from the Pitt to reestablish order within the walls of Paradise Falls was sent with forty plus militiamen to take on the Dark Ones who'd claimed Paradise as theirs.
Though the initial infighting was easier than expected, once the heavyweights made it onto the field, things took a turn for the worse. Ammo was running low, Terry had been wounded & ran off to his cage, along with fourteen dead Darkers. Their numbers were greatly reduced to atleast five in all. Eleven slavers remained spread throughout the compound. They'd switched tactics & were taking the Dark Ones on in stealth. Reducing their numbers to three, though at the cost of two Darkers, leaving three in all.
Charles crouches behind a pile of sandbags, occasionally lifting his head high enough to scope out anything that moved. Robyn had run off & Charles was unaware where, the other Darker was somewhere on the rooftops. The five slavers that remained were the last of the heavy infantry. & though Mercer was dead, they still directed each other & escaped into cover before Charles could take a shot.
Quickly checking his Assault Rifle for any bullets in the clip, Charles readies the gun before peeking over the bags again. This time was different, Charles had the upperhand. The slavers had gotten to their last strip of cover, if they'd move anymore, Charles'd have a clear shot. One peeks his head from the corner, peering around long enough for Charles to scope him out. The bullet misses & hits a part of the fencing, leaving a metal smashing sound.
Physical Appearance(Facial/Body/Etc.)-Slim built, somewhat muscular, & broad-shouldered are the self evident traits of Eric, besides that, he stands at 6'0 ft tall & weighs 184 lbs. His graying, wavy black hair marks his age accompanied the distinguishable wrinkles. His eyes are pale blue & he maintains a clean-cut appearance, though he has a stubble.
.
Clothing-Wears whats depicted, with dark slim bootcut jeans & short brown work boots.
Personality-Eric is by all means a man you wouldn't want to p*ss off. His intimidating intellectual superiority is self evident accompanied by his cold & ruthless behavior. He's cunning, sharp, & strong willed. Though many would agree he's deceptive, he's not easy to trust as his demeanor often changes. Eric does not work with a group mentality & is reluctant to lead anybody. Though despite this, he leads a group of people which he's dubbed the name "The Guiders". Eric can be quite cynical, but calm & laid back at the same time. His personality is very confusing & rapidly changing, adapting.
Backstory(Optional)-Unknown, though it's suspected he was an agent before the outbreak.
Occupation-Unknown
Location-Varies
Inventory(10 Items or Less)-Beretta 92 w/ ten clips, Half empty water bottle, Breakfast Bar
Real Name:Jon Elliot Isaac's Alias:Ghost Side:Anti-Hero Gender:Male Age:36 Appearance (Suited and Unsuited):Standing 6'0 ft tall & weighing in at 184 lbs, Jon is by all means an intimidating man. His slim yet muscular body frame coupled with being broad-shouldered. Jon has toned muscles, but is by no means ripped(has pecks & a four pack). His eyes are a pale blue & his wavy graying black hair marks his ages, followed closely by distinguishable wrinkles. Jon maintains a relatively clean-cut appearance, though he wears a slight stubble. His clothes consist of plain colored v-necks, slim bootcut jeans, & short work boots. When it's cold, he dawns a leather jacket with a zip up hoodie under neath. He does not have a suit. Personality:Jon closely follows a strong moral code that guidelines his actions, only kill if necessary. Jon uses his intellectual strength to further benefit his thought process & is quick to make a decision. His resourcefulness helps him out in means of combat, giving him a strategic edge, counter balanced by being rather cunning. Coupled with this, he's got a strong will as shown on several occasions, & is determined to see the job through. Adding to his intellectual superiority, he's cynical, combine this with his sarcastic humor & you get a colorful character. Jon has been shown to use his charisma in certain situations, often charming whoever he can & putting off numerous facades that often benefit him. In certain scenarios, Jon exhibits a ruthless behavior, showing little remorse when operating to inflict intimidation in his enemies eyes. History (Must be at least a paragraph long):Jon lived an average life before the accident. Wife, kids, he established a family in Virginia, had a well paying job as a Forensics Anthropolgist & wasn't affiliated with any hero's or villians, though he considered his boss to be an antagonist. This all changed after a severe car accident left Jon in a coma for fourteen months. Following a contraversial procedjure to increase brain waves, the treatment over amplified Jon's brain waves, giving him the ability to read other peoples thoughts through brain waves, similar to how sound is transfered. Along with this, Jon is able to manipulate objects small enough to follow his brain waves. Regardless, after awaking from his coma, Jon had discovered that his wife had moved on & was seeking a divorce along with full custody of their kids. Jon was forced out of his marriage & stripped of his children. Angered by this, he had no choice, no way of getting back together. He moved away, far away, to Brooklyn where he lives in an apartment, paying rent with the money he makes still being a Forensics expert. How he got into the whole hero buisness is still unknown but what is known is that the local law enforcements consider him a vigilante. Powers (Be reasonable):Telepathy, Telekinesis Drawbacks (You MUST have some):Can't use telepathy or telekinesis when being attacked(distracts thought process). Can't penetrate a persons mind if they are wearing a hard/metal helmet(acts as a barrier). Can your character be killed (If he/she can not, make some sort of alternate way of defeating him/her):Yes, Jon is by all means killable as with any other person, bullets, wounds, falls, etc. anything that typically kills an average person will kill Jon. Extra information:I will obey the rules.
Buck, Keeping a firm stance, the Raiders aim their guns at the tall man who tenses up again. His expression is pure anger & his scrawny friend imitates this expression. Buck laughs, these guys are practically nothing to him, but Buck decides that she is too important to waste, she had potential, & so did hoss, but the scrawny kid would probably be a problem. Buck sets the woman down, she gasps for air, stumbling backwards into a pillar. Hoss helps her up, patting her on her back as her reddened face returns to its natural pale color. She glares at Buck, rubbing her neck where a red squeeze had been left. -"Now, you three are valuable to me." Buck moves on. They pay little mind to Buck's starting to words. -"Allow me to retort, you are the strongest of the prison, am I right?" The scrawny man looks to Buck & swallows before nodding. -"Y-you can say that." He says in compliance. Hoss looks to Scrawny, his expression is grim. -"After all, you're skin heads." Buck says. The woman looks to Buck. -"What do you want?" She asks aggressively. -"Your cooperation." Buck responds. -"F*ck you." She responds. Buck smiles then laughs. -"Alright, how about you Hoss?" Buck asks, turning to Hoss. Hoss frowns, he shakes his head, returning his attention to the woman. -"& you Scrawny?" Scrawny looks to Hoss & the woman. They stare back at him with worried expressions. -"How're we supposed to survive if we don't have anything to eat or drink, or even defend ourselves?" Scrawny asks the two. -"We've gotten this far, Gabe." The woman says. Buck looks to the woman. -"You won't survive past the next week in this condition. Half your inmates are dead, the only weapon you have are your fists & that piece of sh*t shank, & your food, well it depends on how much you consume, all in all, you're doomed if all them fried brains get past your make-shift barriers." Buck says. The three look upon each other. -"We can't just forget that this guy killed Wesley & injured Martin, Tony, & Anthony." The woman protests. -"He's right though, we won't survive in here with all that we've got, there's no way. I say we go with him." The big man says. -"Wise choice Hoss." Buck says. -"It's Negan." He says aggressively. -"Whatever." Buck responds. Buck looks to Gabe & Negan, they join the ranks of the Raiders who stand before the woman. -"You comin or not?" Buck asks. The woman looks amoungst the Raiders, her eyes landing on Negan & Gabe. -"Come on Megan, you'll be the only one left in this prison if you don't." Gabe says.
I know, & I do occasionally obey that, mostly I'm good with dialogue, but as stated, I like detail, description. While I do agree with you, for other people they like to get to the point. I will be honest, this RP has somewhat poorly written posts by me & others, but I'm genuinely aware of the things you just stated. Most of my detail & focus have been directed towards the Undead Rising RP I made. This RP is not so interesting to me anymore, that's why I was away for so long, I'd been attending my Undead RP. Regardless, I think your criticism is beneficial to me & agree with it. I'll try being a little more realistic on this RP as with my Undead RP.
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Gathering his bearings, Charles loosens the buttons on his jacket, it was significantly hotter out in Nevada than it was back East. Charles certainly missed the mild weather, but Nevada was a change up, though it was rather dull in comparison to the bustling ruins of a city. Robyn had dragged Charles & a small pack of Dark Ones across the state, mostly with the help of Caravans in route to the Grand Canyon or California. It was a long & treacherous journey, the pair had lost twelve men along the way, & tensions were rising as a few members decided to bail halfway through, much to Robyn's dismay. Entering the dodgy saloon by the name of "Prospectors Saloon", Charles is almost immediately relieved by the shade. It'd been hours since he was in an average climate & not sweating his balls off. Upon inspection, Charles notices how quaint the saloon is, it certainly doesn't lack in appearance as its decor is more western cowboy based, but he feels a strong cozy feeling, as though he could drink away his sorrows in this saloon. Turning to Robyn, Charles smiles, her suntanned face looks rather cute, though the trail of sweat from her forehead is slightly off putting, though Charles learned to deal with Robyn's quirks over a span of two or three years. They'd been happily together, & as far as Charles was concerned, she looked better than ever, & that was always. Robyn smiles back at Charles before proceeding to the main bar of the small saloon. Country music sounded in the bar, looking in, Charles could see how nicely decorated the bar was. Shot glasses, whiskey glasses, & more lined the bar table & walls. Sitting on the shelves, organized by brand, beer, scotch, & other whiskeys sat neatly in place. A man with a cowboy hat sat on the nearest bar stool, making love to his tonic & gin. Robyn takes a seat in the farthest bar stool, typical, looks to Charles, & playfully pats the seat next to her with her right hand. Charles smiles & proceeds to take a seat next to her. Letting his hood down, Charles runs his hands through his sweaty, unkempt hair, it leaves his hands moist, which he wipes away on his pants.
The music playing in the background is soothing, calm & relaxing, though certainly nothing Charles had heard before. He knew it was country music of the sort, but had mostly dismissed it as music for he rarely cared. Though Robyn had made sure he did, after all, she owned "Dark Aid" & often paraded him about on it, including broadcasting a more intimate & private moment over the radio, much to Charles dismay.
A short, dark haired lady emerges from what appears to be a back room. She's carrying a shot glass in her hands, her eyes drift to Robyn & Charles as she steps behind the bar counter.
-"You two don't look like you're from around here, you from back east?" The woman asks.
Charles ponders how this woman would get that assumption, considering Robyn was clearly dawning a cowboy hat.
-"Yes." Robyn responds quickly.
The woman looks to Robyn, clearly she thought Charles was the one who'd answered, but after a few years with her, Charles knew better. He was manly enough to admit that Robyn slightly intimidated him, but he was sure the same was reciprocated to her. The woman smiles, as though she knew Robyn, though it was evident that she didn't.
-"So, where you from?" She asks with a warm smile.
-"None of your business." Robyn responds rudely.
The woman slightly frowns at Robyn's response, obviously confused by the hostility.
-"She means that we're from D.C." Charles quickly says so as to defuse the imminent reprisal the woman would give.
Robyn glares at Charles as the woman turns her attention to him.
-"D.C. huh? How is it there?" She asks, her expression loosening up.
-"Oh, it's-uh, fine, I guess, cooler than here." Charles responds calmly.
The women laughs.
-"I get that alot from travelers."
Charles smiles as the woman leans over the bar counter, clearly exposing her cleavage, Robyn spots Charles eyes on them & kicks his leg.
-"So, you guys carvaners, or just passin through?" She asks.
-"We're just pass-
-"We're intending to take over Vegas." Robyn interrupts with a wicked smile.
The woman raises her eyebrows.
-"Well, that's not a first." She says.
Robyn gives her a cunning smile, Charles loved these, the made her look cute.
-"Surely." Robyn responds.
The woman reciprocates a faint laugh.
-"Well, anyways, my names Trudy, I'm the owner of this here saloon." She says.
-"Nice to meet you Trudy, I'm Charles & this is Robyn." Charles says, shaking her extended hand.
Trudy looks onto Robyn who gives her the eye for checking Charles out.
-"You two traveling alone or you got some friends?" Trudy asks.
-"We've got a small group, they're just outside." Charles responds.
-"Ah, so you two run in a gang?"
-"Technically an empire, but whatever strikes your fancy." Charles says.
Trudy laughs.
-"You guys ain't like them Legion folk, are you?" She asks.
-"Legion?" Charles says.
-"Wow, you guys really are from the East, you seriously don't know about Caesars Legion?"
Charles shakes his head in response. Trudy raises her brows.
-"Well, they are-were a group of horrible slavers who use to terrorize these parts."
Charles looks to Robyn who's expression is blank.
-"No, we're not like that." Charles responds.
-"Good, no need for more violence." Trudy says.
-"I hear you." Charles says.
-"So, you guys thirsty? I've got some freshly brewed beer, or some Sunset Sarsaparilla if you prefer?"
-"Sunset Sarsaparilla?" Charles asks.
-"Yeah, it's probably the only good non-alcoholic drink out there." Trudy says with a faint smile.
-"Uh, have you tried Nuka-Cola?" Charles asks, raising a brow.
-"Oh yes, not my style though, too...dark for my taste, if you know what I mean."
-"Well, different strokes for different folks, I guess."
-"Don't say that." Robyn says firmly.
-"Why not?" Charles says, turning his attention to Robyn.
-"Sounds wrong." She says through a smirk.
Charles smiles at her.
-"Don't get me started with what sounds wrong missy." Charles says playfully.
-"Oh I'll get you started mister." She responds.
Robyn is clearly blushing through her sunburn. Trudy grabs their attention back.
-"So, what'll be guys?" Trudy asks through a fake cough.
-"I'll-uh-have some Scotch, please, she'll have an Atomic Cocktail." Charles responds, turning to her.
Trudy nods in response & grabs a shortened whiskey glass & a bottle of Scotch. Robyn kisses Charles on his cheek & rests her head on his shoulder, her cowboy hat slightly tipping upwards. Charles wraps his hand around to her left hip, pulling her in closer to him before kissing her head.
Trudy returns with the Atomic Cocktail & Scotch. She smiles warmly as she sets them down in front of them.
-"Will that be all?" She asks.
-"Yes." Robyn responds.
-"Okay, that'll be ten caps." She says.
Charles rummages in his right pocket, his finger brushes against the rough bottle caps. Pulling ten out, he places them on the counter. Trudy counts out the bottlecaps, her eyes pause on the blue-star cap.
-"I don't reckon you know what you've just given me?" Trudy asks, picking the cap up & looking to Charles before turning it over so that the star faced him.
-"A bottlecap?" Charles responds.
-"Not just any bottlecap, a Sunset Sarsaparilla Star Bottle Cap."
-"A what?" Charles asks, frowning; still holding Robyn close to him.
-"A Star bottlecap."
-"So?"
-"You're very fortunate to have come across it, not so many do."
-"Is there something special about it, well, besides it being a bottlecap?" Charles asks.
-"Yes, there is, it's said there's a man by the name of "Festus" who's been keeping a steady vigil for these things. Supposedly, he'll give a treasure if you bring enough of them to him." Trudy responds, handing the cap back to him.
-"Oh, a treasure, that sounds-
-"Very profitable." Robyn interrupts Charles.
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Gender(Male/Female/Both)-
Ethnicity(Caucasian/African American/Asian/Etc.)-
Physical Appearance(Body Type and Facial/Picture or Description)-
Clothing-
Personality(Characteristics)-
Biography-
Inventory(11 Items or Less)-
Gender(Male/Female/Both)-Male
Ethnicity(Caucasian/African American/Asian/Etc.)-Caucasian
Physical Appearance(Body Type and Facial/Picture or Description)-Standing roughly around 6'1 ft, & weighing 180 lbs, Charles is a barrel chested, broad-shoulder, & toned muscled man. The work he does often gives him the strength to complete certain tasks, but his slim stature often misguides him. As for his facial region, Charles looks gruff & tough, but sticks to a clean cut appearance, often maintaining a pleasant appearance. He has long & wavy dark brown hair, though with streaks of grey in it followed by a trimmed stubble. His eyes are a genetically modified pale blue, though their original color is long forgotten. With slightly pronounced cheekbones & a firm jaw, he certainly doesn't lack in attractiveness.
Clothing-Keeping up with his mostly clean cut appearance, Charles wears typically nice clothing. He can often be seen wearing the standard Dark Ones fatigues, but in his off time, he dresses in Pre-War clothing. When traveling, he dawns his old Regulator Duster.
Biography-Born into slavery at the central slave trading hub, Paradise Falls, Charles had a rough upbringing, only knowing his mother for eight years. His father remains unknown, but he suspects that he was a slaver who rapped his mom. At an early age, Charles learned to farm & do manual labor. He had a strong grasp on growing certain crops & treating Brahmin, which made him a valuable slave. After his mother was sold & removed from Paradise Falls, Charles spent a quarter of a year without any parental guidance, until a sympathetic slaver by the name of Kevin Newbury taught him how to read & write. Kevin was a man who was in over his head with debts & to help pay them off, he set up a deal with Eulogy & reluctantly became a slaver. Seeing as how Charles was one of the few slaves that could most likely make a difference, Kevin decided to teach Charles to betterment his skills, though this came at a hefty price as it cost Kevin his life. At age nineteen, Charles was sold to a cannibalistic family. Charles murdered all three members out of self defense, but was emotionally damaged by it & sought guidance. With nobody to help him, he found comfort in alcohol abuse. Though within a year, he signed up with the Regulators & went on a job. It was a simple enough job, kill Eulogy. Though the plan went south & Charles was mortally wounded & left to die. A traveling merchant came across Charles & brought him back to Canterbury Commons were he healed up & within a year; became a caravan guard. After about three years as a guard, Charles decided to get into a more serious position & signed up to the Rivet City Guard. Spending a large majority of his twenties as as guard, Charles was later fired. During the last few months as a guard, Charles became addicted to Jet after succumbing to temptation while preforming a drugs bust on a citizen. Banned from Rivet City & having nowhere else to turn, Charles resided in Megaton where he was mostly wasted in a bar or held up in a clinic, begging for more Med-X. Then came along a woman named Robyn, she ran a faction called the "Dark Ones". Having nothing better to do & being intrigued by this woman, Charles signed up & within a week became Robyn's second in command & boyfriend.
Inventory(11 Items or Less)-Colt Python w/ ten rounds/Bottled Water/Two MRE's/Sawed-Off Shotgun w/ five shells/Two Stimpaks/Antivenom/Assault Rifle w/ five clips/Machete. Colt Python is carried in a hip holster, Sawed-Off Shotgun is placed in a right thigh holster, Assault Rifle is carried on his back(strap keeps it steady), other supplies are carried in a rucksack.
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Looking onto Robyn, Charles nods.
-"Do you know a thing about these snobs Robyn? I've met some of them, they're not the most pleasant, they hate ghouls." Charles says.
The morning sun rose high above Tenpenny Towers, the building cast a shadow before the Dark Ones & Robyn's family. The tower resembled it's pre war essence, luxurious, beautiful, it was a sight to see, however most couldn't see it because of it's distant location & well everything about it was off putting, unfriendly. The people you'd call friends would back stab you any day to reach their next payment of caps. & Mr. Tenpenny wasn't the most pleasant man, get on his good side & you end up rich, swimming in caps, get on his bad side & you end up dead. Charles questioned if this place was even safe to be around, he felt like every guard was staring at him, pointing their guns directly at him, their fingers mere centimeters from the trigger.
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The simplicity of the vial was mere child's play to Jon, his thoughts swarmed over it's probability, the essence & great importance it held was repeated in his head. It was a compound, not just any compound, the compound, whatever was causing these children to change at age eighteen was surely, no merely, mild, it could be worse, much, much worse. Forbidding subject experiments outside of the prison was not going to stop Jon, not after how far he'd come.
Mrs. Daniels enters the room, the atmosphere changes drastically as Jon's brainwaves tap into hers. He can feel her thoughts, read them, see them through his own eyes, liking reading scripture. She smiles warmly, her thoughts resignate around Jon, somewhat disturbing, granted, arousing thoughts, but Jon had to stay focused, the more he experienced her thoughts the more his brain would adapt to be like hers. It was common, tap into one another's brain, read their thoughts & experience their feelings, emotions, you become entuned to their brains frequency.
-"Mr. Isaacs, I have the reports." She says warmly.
-"Gabbie, you've known me for to long to refer to me as "Mr.Isaacs"." Jon says, his eyes still focused on the vial as he extracts a small dab of the liquid.
-"Well, Jon, here are the reports."
-"Set 'em on my desk please." Jon responds, paying little attention to her.
Gabbie proceeds to follow his instructions, placing the clipboard on the mahogany desk that had papers, envelopes, & more spread untidily across it's polished surface.
-"You think you'd learn to clean up after yourself every once & awhile." Gabbie says under her breath.
-"No time to clean." Jon says, placing the essence on a glass slate.
-"You never have time."
-"Precisely."
-"Well you should, you've been working for days, I mean do you even sleep?" Gabbie says, pacing around.
-"No."
Gabbie stops pacing & raises an eyebrow, the seriousness in Jon's tone was slightly unsettling.
-"I'm going to assume that was sarcasm." Gabbie responds.
-"Do I sound sarcastic?"
-"I hope that's what you sound like when you're being sarcastic."
-"Yes Gabbie, I sleep." Jon says in an exaggerating tone.
-"Well, that's good I guess, I mean-
-"That was sarcasm." Jon says, zooming in on the essence with the microscope.
Gabbie, frowns, Jon truly was a confusing man, hard to figure out.
-"Alright, well-
-"Shhh!" Jon says.
Gabbie faintly laughs.
-"You & your work." She says, exiting the room.
-"Can you get me a coffee while you're leaving?" Jon says, still peering through the microscope.
-"I don't know, can I?" Gabbie responds playfully.
-"Can you please."
-"Sure thing Jon." She says with a laugh, exiting the office.
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Nickname:No
Age:36(If alright with CPR)
Appearance:Standing 6'0 ft tall & weighing in at 184 lbs, Jon is by all means an intimidating man. His slim yet muscular body frame coupled with being broad-shouldered gives him the perfect stance for a man of his position. Jon has toned muscles, but is by no means ripped(has pecks & a four pack). His eyes are a pale blue & his wavy graying black hair marks his age, followed closely by distinguishable wrinkles. Jon maintains a relatively clean-cut appearance, though he wears a slight stubble. His clothes consist of plain colored v-necks, slim bootcut jeans, & short work boots. When it's cold, he dawns a leather jacket with a zip up hoodie under neath. Basically, he wears what's depicted.
Personality:Jon closely follows a strong moral code that guidelines his actions, only kill if necessary. Jon uses his intellectual strength to further benefit his thought process & is quick to make a decision. His resourcefulness helps him out in means of combat, giving him a strategic edge, counter balanced by being rather cunning. Coupled with this, he's got a strong will as shown on several occasions, & is determined to see the job through. Adding to his intellectual superiority, he's cynical, combine this with his sarcastic humor & you get a colorful character. Jon has been shown to use his charisma in certain situations, often charming whoever he can & putting off numerous facades that often benefit him. In certain scenarios, Jon exhibits a ruthless behavior, showing little remorse when operating to inflict intimidation in his enemies eyes.
Fears:Afraid of loosing his children to the prison.
Power:Telepathy
Weakness:Can't use Telepathy when fighting(Causes Distraction of thought process), can't penetrate barriers such as metal helmets or brain wave blocking barriers.
Possessions:Picture of his son & daughter. Long Barrel Colt Python w/ ten rounds. Pocket Watch.
Bio (Optional):Unknown(But will detail over a period of posts
Theme Song: (Optional)Into the Fray - Marc Streitenfeld
Other:Gifted
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Paradise Falls, the small strip mall that'd been converted into a central slave trade hub. To some, it was a way to earn caps, to others, it was the center of evil. Slavers resided within the fenced off walls of Paradise, barely exposing the evil transactions that were held, the people that were sold for caps. Rocky terrain surrounded the complex, somewhat shrouding the small strip mall from the Capital Wasteland, & any anti-slavery wastelander who dared come close to it.
That was the description before the mass attack led by the Dark Ones, a faction of "Do Gooders" with evil intentions of taking over the Capital Wasteland for theirs, like Caesars Legion. The battle took two hours, & though the Dark Ones numbers significantly decreased, through stealth & marksmanship, eventually, one by one, each slaver was put down. Some escaped the compound, others who were unfortunate enough were left for either Robyn's wrath or the judgement of any "Darker" as Robyn had named her initiates who were in reality, hired mercenaries working for their next payment of caps.
Two weeks had passed since the attack. Word had eventually reached other slaving settlements who were angered by this attack. Not only was Paradise the central slave settlement, all caps ended up there, it was the center of the slaving community in the Capital Wasteland. Mercer, a underling sent from the Pitt to reestablish order within the walls of Paradise Falls was sent with forty plus militiamen to take on the Dark Ones who'd claimed Paradise as theirs.
Though the initial infighting was easier than expected, once the heavyweights made it onto the field, things took a turn for the worse. Ammo was running low, Terry had been wounded & ran off to his cage, along with fourteen dead Darkers. Their numbers were greatly reduced to atleast five in all. Eleven slavers remained spread throughout the compound. They'd switched tactics & were taking the Dark Ones on in stealth. Reducing their numbers to three, though at the cost of two Darkers, leaving three in all.
Charles crouches behind a pile of sandbags, occasionally lifting his head high enough to scope out anything that moved. Robyn had run off & Charles was unaware where, the other Darker was somewhere on the rooftops. The five slavers that remained were the last of the heavy infantry. & though Mercer was dead, they still directed each other & escaped into cover before Charles could take a shot.
Quickly checking his Assault Rifle for any bullets in the clip, Charles readies the gun before peeking over the bags again. This time was different, Charles had the upperhand. The slavers had gotten to their last strip of cover, if they'd move anymore, Charles'd have a clear shot. One peeks his head from the corner, peering around long enough for Charles to scope him out. The bullet misses & hits a part of the fencing, leaving a metal smashing sound.
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Alias:Ghost
Side:Anti-Hero
Gender:Male
Age:36
Appearance (Suited and Unsuited):Standing 6'0 ft tall & weighing in at 184 lbs, Jon is by all means an intimidating man. His slim yet muscular body frame coupled with being broad-shouldered. Jon has toned muscles, but is by no means ripped(has pecks & a four pack). His eyes are a pale blue & his wavy graying black hair marks his ages, followed closely by distinguishable wrinkles. Jon maintains a relatively clean-cut appearance, though he wears a slight stubble. His clothes consist of plain colored v-necks, slim bootcut jeans, & short work boots. When it's cold, he dawns a leather jacket with a zip up hoodie under neath. He does not have a suit.
Personality:Jon closely follows a strong moral code that guidelines his actions, only kill if necessary. Jon uses his intellectual strength to further benefit his thought process & is quick to make a decision. His resourcefulness helps him out in means of combat, giving him a strategic edge, counter balanced by being rather cunning. Coupled with this, he's got a strong will as shown on several occasions, & is determined to see the job through. Adding to his intellectual superiority, he's cynical, combine this with his sarcastic humor & you get a colorful character. Jon has been shown to use his charisma in certain situations, often charming whoever he can & putting off numerous facades that often benefit him. In certain scenarios, Jon exhibits a ruthless behavior, showing little remorse when operating to inflict intimidation in his enemies eyes.
History (Must be at least a paragraph long):Jon lived an average life before the accident. Wife, kids, he established a family in Virginia, had a well paying job as a Forensics Anthropolgist & wasn't affiliated with any hero's or villians, though he considered his boss to be an antagonist. This all changed after a severe car accident left Jon in a coma for fourteen months. Following a contraversial procedjure to increase brain waves, the treatment over amplified Jon's brain waves, giving him the ability to read other peoples thoughts through brain waves, similar to how sound is transfered. Along with this, Jon is able to manipulate objects small enough to follow his brain waves. Regardless, after awaking from his coma, Jon had discovered that his wife had moved on & was seeking a divorce along with full custody of their kids. Jon was forced out of his marriage & stripped of his children. Angered by this, he had no choice, no way of getting back together. He moved away, far away, to Brooklyn where he lives in an apartment, paying rent with the money he makes still being a Forensics expert. How he got into the whole hero buisness is still unknown but what is known is that the local law enforcements consider him a vigilante.
Powers (Be reasonable):Telepathy, Telekinesis
Drawbacks (You MUST have some):Can't use telepathy or telekinesis when being attacked(distracts thought process). Can't penetrate a persons mind if they are wearing a hard/metal helmet(acts as a barrier).
Can your character be killed (If he/she can not, make some sort of alternate way of defeating him/her):Yes, Jon is by all means killable as with any other person, bullets, wounds, falls, etc. anything that typically kills an average person will kill Jon.
Extra information:I will obey the rules.
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Keeping a firm stance, the Raiders aim their guns at the tall man who tenses up again. His expression is pure anger & his scrawny friend imitates this expression. Buck laughs, these guys are practically nothing to him, but Buck decides that she is too important to waste, she had potential, & so did hoss, but the scrawny kid would probably be a problem. Buck sets the woman down, she gasps for air, stumbling backwards into a pillar. Hoss helps her up, patting her on her back as her reddened face returns to its natural pale color. She glares at Buck, rubbing her neck where a red squeeze had been left.
-"Now, you three are valuable to me." Buck moves on.
They pay little mind to Buck's starting to words.
-"Allow me to retort, you are the strongest of the prison, am I right?"
The scrawny man looks to Buck & swallows before nodding.
-"Y-you can say that." He says in compliance.
Hoss looks to Scrawny, his expression is grim.
-"After all, you're skin heads." Buck says.
The woman looks to Buck.
-"What do you want?" She asks aggressively.
-"Your cooperation." Buck responds.
-"F*ck you." She responds.
Buck smiles then laughs.
-"Alright, how about you Hoss?" Buck asks, turning to Hoss.
Hoss frowns, he shakes his head, returning his attention to the woman.
-"& you Scrawny?"
Scrawny looks to Hoss & the woman. They stare back at him with worried expressions.
-"How're we supposed to survive if we don't have anything to eat or drink, or even defend ourselves?" Scrawny asks the two.
-"We've gotten this far, Gabe." The woman says.
Buck looks to the woman.
-"You won't survive past the next week in this condition. Half your inmates are dead, the only weapon you have are your fists & that piece of sh*t shank, & your food, well it depends on how much you consume, all in all, you're doomed if all them fried brains get past your make-shift barriers." Buck says.
The three look upon each other.
-"We can't just forget that this guy killed Wesley & injured Martin, Tony, & Anthony." The woman protests.
-"He's right though, we won't survive in here with all that we've got, there's no way. I say we go with him." The big man says.
-"Wise choice Hoss." Buck says.
-"It's Negan." He says aggressively.
-"Whatever." Buck responds.
Buck looks to Gabe & Negan, they join the ranks of the Raiders who stand before the woman.
-"You comin or not?" Buck asks.
The woman looks amoungst the Raiders, her eyes landing on Negan & Gabe.
-"Come on Megan, you'll be the only one left in this prison if you don't." Gabe says.
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