Home on the Wastes (OoC and Sign-Ups)

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by mr_pibbs, Jun 4, 2016.

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  1. **Note: historical inaccuracies aren't due to me not caring about the facts, this takes place in an alternate Earth timeline. The reasons for the Cold War are different in this RP as to match the backstory**


    August 6th, 1945. The world was forever changed after the United States dropped the first Atomic Bomb on Hiroshima, Japan. The immense power and devastating capabilities a weapon that the "Little Boy" possessed was immediately brought into the global consciousness. Nearly 146,000 Japanese Civilians were dead, 70% of the city lay in ruin and an additional 7% of Hiroshima was severely damaged by the detonation. Even though Germany had fallen and most countries thought the atrocities of the Second World War were behind them... The Manhattan Project was put on display for the world to see. Radiation scorched the streets, leaving behind the horrific silhouettes of terrified people screaming in fear as their world erupted under the pressure of the mighty Atom.

    When Japan refused to give up, the U.S. dropped another nuclear bomb on Nagasaki three days later: the "Fat Man". This time there were approximately 80,000 casualties, but the immense radiation would soon take the lives of more. Ultimately, Japan surrendered and the war was over. But the ramifications of utilizing the splitting of Atoms for advanced warfare still hung in the air. The world quickly realized how powerful nuclear energy could be if harnessed properly and they began to work on a way to properly control it. Over the course of the next century, the world began to study nuclear energy in an attempt to harness the power it possessed. By the year 1950, nuclear power was the primary source of energy throughout the world. It was a plutonium utopia, so to speak. The entire planet had unified to understand the potential of the atomic wonder they had stumbled across, focusing on furthering the human race through advanced technology and improved medicine.

    However, at the beginning of the 1980's, the relationship between the United States of America and the USSR became strained when it was discovered that the Russians had been secretly building a nuclear arsenal to rival that of America's. The fear of communism throughout the USA was not a secret, but even during the McCarthy Trials, the USSR had not acknowledged their frustration towards the Capitalist way of life. But, they had secretly been preparing an atomic arsenal during the 70's, fearing the potential of a full-out assault by American forces. The USSR secretly hid their spies in the corners of the United States, quietly invading the White House so information about potential American strikes could be instantly relayed back to Russia.


    However, an American FBI employee noticed a continuous pattern of undocumented communications from all across the country being sent to an unknown location. When he brought this information to his superiors, the communication lines were quickly traced back to Russia and the news went public. International spies leaking information to other countries were common during the time of war, but during a time of supposedly global peace, it was seen as an attack.

    Although the United Nations tried desperately to quell the increasing aggressions of the American people, who felt that Russia's actions further confirmed their irrational fears about the evils of Communism, they could only watch on in tense anticipation as both the USA and the USSR entered a 'Cold War'. Both countries began to devote their resources towards an extremely dangerous arsenal of atomic weaponry, building vehicles and handheld weapons capable of producing the same devastating effects of the Hydrogen bomb. Missiles with high-tech targeting systems were constructed and pointed directly towards the 'enemy', ready to launch at a moment's notice. But both countries were at a stalemate: their military forces were equal and neither would dare call for the first strike, fearing the repercussions of setting off a chain of atomic detonations.

    While the world hinged on a delicate thread, a third party had secretly entered the Cold War unbeknownst to anyone; Vietnam. Although the prominent countries across the planet had experienced a unified boom of shared knowledge and peace since the Second World War, Vietnam had been struggling through a horrific ordeal. Tensions between the North and South of Vietnam had been high since the South's refusal to sign the Geneva Convention in 1954, resulting in the formation of the "Republic of Vietnam" in an attempt to counter the communist government run by Báo Dai. While the rest of the world tried to stay out of the conflict (realizing that any interaction with one side might be seen as neo-colonization due to previous conflicts with the French), America offered both political and military support to South Vietnam, seeing the spread of communism ideals throughout the world as just as large a threat as it was on American soil (or so they thought). When South Vietnam lost the war in 1975 and became a part of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, the country looked across the sea for one final act of independence. In a daring move, they would eliminate those who had tried to 'destroy the peace'; they would destroy The United States.


    Using the global distraction of the Cold War to their advantage, a task force of Vietnam soldiers snuck through the American border and made their way to a secret weapons testing bunker hidden in Southern Nevada; Area 51. Although the purpose of the base was unknown to the public, the U.S. Government had secretly been using it as a developmental institution for Atomic Weaponry and experimental military transportation. The USSR had stolen the information, but agents from Vietnam had managed to get their hands on it. With nearly enough weapons to level the entire country, Area 51 was extremely vulnerable should anyone discover it's true purpose.

    Unfortunately for America, and the world, the revenge-driven Vietnamese had learned of their weakness.

    The Vietnamese forces quickly invaded the base, gunning down any personnel they came across as they made their way to the storage bay. Once there, the team detonated the thousands of radioactive missiles on-site, obliterating the base within seconds. The shockwave from the multiple explosions quickly spread across the United States like wildfire, igniting the other warheads and creating an Armageddon level event. Within a week of the first detonation, America was swept clean off the map, eradicated by their own arsenal of nuclear weaponry. At first, Russia was blamed for the devastation, but the combined intelligence of the United Nations realized Vietnam was behind the literal 'death of a nation'. But as both the UN and the rest of the planet quickly realized, Vietnam's plan for revenge was heavily under calculated. The sheer force of each nuclear detonation combined was nearly impossible to determine, as the United States had kept most of that information to themselves. However, Russia brought forth some recent intelligence they had acquired, revealing that nearly a billion warheads were spread out across the United States.


    The combined force of each detonation was creating a nuclear blast that would soon cover the entire planet. What made things worse was that the blast would only increase as it engulfed nuclear power plants and generators, not to mention the atomic weaponry of the world's powerhouses (which had been built as a counter against the Russian and American weapons, should one strike before the other). In short; the blast would bring out the end of the world within a week of the initial detonation.

    Using the short time they had left, citizens of Planet Earth scrambled for supplies, built fallout shelters, and prepared for the end. Canada was hit by the blast first, followed by Mexico and all of South America. Then, the Great Mushroom Cloud (as it's now known) slowly spread to the Eastern hemisphere, obliterating anything in its path. Although the world governments had done their best to prepare the citizens for 'the end', it was not enough. Government commissioned fallout shelters built as a response to the Cold War (should any detonations take place) and privately owned shelters could not hold entire populations and many citizens across the world were left to die in the fallout of nuclear war.

    But as the explosions ceased and the dust settled, the level of radiation spread across the planet had far surpassed livable conditions. So, those within the shelters remained there until the year 2180, when radiation levels, although still higher then they had been prior to the creation of the Great Mushroom Cloud, had become safe enough for humanity to not be affected by their environment.

    At last, humanity could return to the world above.


    But rather then witness the towering structures and breathtaking landscapes their ancestors had spoken about, the people found themselves living in a wasteland, filled with the ruined monuments of days long since past. While the remnants of humanity worked to rebuild what was left of the world, eventually they began to create a new world order.

    Many groups began to emerge from the ashes of civilization; in America, the National Confederacy of Protection and Democracy (NCPD, created from the remnants of military forces who valued strength through militaristic values) quickly rose to prominence, but they were challenged by the Legion of Cusreus (a cultist-society who worshipped a their leader like a deity), the Associated Brotherhood for a Better Tomorrow (ABAT, a group of citizens who sought to preserve the ways of the past while inventing a new way of life), and various smaller groups of Raiders who sought to capitalize on the wealth of others and take what they wanted without remorse. Other prominent factions and groups began to form across the world (such as the Heiwa iji-gun in Japan, the Commonwealth of New Yorkshire in most of the United Kingdom & Ireland, and the various Casino Families of "New Vegas") as more and more people returned to the land above the Earth.

    Although the radioactivity had altered the landscape in the century since the bombs first went off, the wildlife and plant life had adapted to the drastic alterations to the environment. New mutated animals and plants were spread out across the world, but many species of animal had also survived the fallout thanks to being placed within various shelters (most of these animals were livestock and were only used for meat/materials, but some domesticated animals also survived). However, just like the species that came before, there were certain creatures which stood at the top of the food chain. As well, some of the humans who did not reside in a shelter (either due to a lack of room or not being able to reach one in time) were discovered to have suffered mutations of their own. The radioactivity rotted away their bodies, transforming them into feral ghouls with only one motive: to feed. While they were still technically alive, most people saw these 'Lurkers' as walking corpses. Just like in movies that proceeded the disaster of the Great Mushroom Cloud, the apocalypse now possessed the threat of 'zombies'.


    But just as it has in times of hardship, humanity continued to thrive. From the wreckage, they began to rebuild their homes, their society, and their lives. Some opted to remain in their shelters while their fellow men and women ascended to the scorched world above, while others were more curious to live in the world they had left behind. Eventually, mankind managed to re-establish contact with one another and as a result, various people from all across the world can communicate once more. Although many groups saw a connected planet as an opportunity to expand their territory, the errors of the past have not yet abandoned their minds. For now, the larger factions have been peaceful.

    But even then, the Wasteland is a dangerous place to live. The threat of Raiders, mutated creatures, and potentially larger factions are all present no matter where you go. Those who travel alone normally get picked apart until they're nothing but bones, so travelling in a group (typically as a 'caravan') is the preferred option.

    So, the only question is... Do you think you can survive the Wasteland?



    • Alright, so obviously this is a post-apocalyptic RP inspired by popular works of fiction such as Fallout, Mad Max, and 28 Days Later (just to name a few).

      The main idea of this RP will centre around our characters, all of whom have formed a Caravan as to survive out in the Wasteland.

      The timeline of the setting is approximately 6 years after humanity first emerged from the fallout shelters, so the year is 2183. You can play as a Shelter Dweller, or a Wastelander (the difference being you would have been born either in a fallout shelter or in the Wasteland).

      Seeing as how each group member is going to be important to the story (and in real group dynamics, people have to rely on one another), we'll each be taking a 'job'. What I mean by this is that each character will have a specific set of skills which help fill one specific 'job' (or two, depending on the severity of the job at hand).

      We'll be starting with 8-9 people (10 maximum, including myself), so that means we'll have to fill a few jobs, which I'll list below.

      Keep in mind though; you can make multiple characters (2 maximum, 3 with some convincing), so you can take multiple jobs. Just remember to be fair to other players (don't take two jobs that put your characters at the top of the team without asking) and ask questions if you're not sure about something. I'm friendly ^^

      -- Jobs --​

      (Each job is colour coded to show their priority.)

      "Survivor's Crew"

      *These are the important jobs. If nobody had any of these, we'd all be dead. We don't need to fill all of them, but it'd make sense to have most of them filled out. Can be doubled with a job from the lower two ranks, if you so wish.*

      • Caravan Leader (the quintessential 'team captain')

      • Advisor (2nd in command isn't so bad)

      • Doctor/Medic (dammit Jim, I'm a doctor not a Wastelander!)

      • Gunner/Mercenary (the muscle)

      "Wasteland Vagabonds"

      *These are job roles that are important, but not as important as the first row. These can be doubled-up with a job from the first row or taken by themselves.*

      • Cook (somebody burnt the bacon again)

      • Technician/Mechanic (pre-war tech can still be useful if it's working)

      • Scientist (did I hear somebody say 'laser rifle'?)

      • Trader (it's good to have someone who can make some cash)

      • Entertainer (from musicians to prostitutes, the skies the limit)

      • Salvager/Tinkerer (making something from nothing; the very definition of creativity)

      "The Tag-Alongs"

      *These are the lowest ranking jobs and essentially act as an 'other' option if you don't want to take on a massive role. These MUST be doubled with one of the "Wasteland Vagabonds" jobs, however.*

      • Wastelander/Shelter Dweller (you're just trying to survive in the world)

      • Farmer (home on the wastes, where the mutated cows roam and play)

      • Doctor's Assistant/Nurse (for helping the doctor fix life's boo-boos)

      • Other (feel free to throw ideas at me, I'm flexible!)​

      **Additional jobs/multiples of the same job can be discussed later on, but let's try to fill the key roles right now.**
    • 1. No GMing. We don't want any Mary-Sues or Gary-Sues

      2. Maximum of 2 Active Characters per person. Any more needs approval by a GM

      3. Characters can and probably WILL die, but please ASK somebody before you attempt to kill their character rather then just say "Your guy is dead."

      4. Keep it PG-13!! Romance and Lovey-Dovey stuff is fine, as well as the occasional innuendo, but take smut scenes to PM, please. Also, violence is allowed, but please don't rip out a guys entrails and hold them above his head while he slowly dies. We're not monsters (although some of our characters may not be 'ideal citizens')

      5. Some scenes will be time skipped if they drag on too long/get too boring, but most of the time we will RP things through.

      6. Every player-character will be a member of the caravan at the start, but any additional characters/players who join later on will become members through IC interaction.

      7. Your character cannot have any GM abilities. GM abilities include: Character Manipulation (mind control/puppetering), Insta-Killing other player's Characters, etc. We all know what these are so we should be good. If you do, however, have questions about what constitutes a 'GM ability', just let me know.

      8. Post at least two paragraphs each time (more is fantastic).

      9. GM posts will be announced (these include plot movers, special events or even the death/introduction of a new character).

      10. If you got this far, here's a cookie *hands cookie*. Also, include "It's the End of the World (and I feel Fine)" in the "Other" section of your character sheet so I know who's read the rules.

      11. Please make PvP combat fair. It really sucks when somebody stabs the other person's foot so they're stuck to the floor, then proceeds to just punch the crap out of their immobile opponent. In addition, GM moves will NOT be allowed inside PvP combat unless approved/announced in a GM event. (Ex. 1-Hit KO Headshots against Named NPC's)

      12. Enjoy the RP to the best of your ability!
    • • 1945 - Atomic Bombs are dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The world becomes fully aware of the power that nuclear energy possessed.

      • 1946 - The United Nations calls for a 'unification of mankind'; worldwide peace is achieved only a year after the Second World War.

      • 1948 - Geneva, Switzerland becomes the first 'Atomic-Powered City' in the world, followed by New York City only months later.

      • 1950 - The world's first 'Nuclear Autonomous Helper Robot' (NAHR) is built by "Ato-Mech Incoporated"; every home in America will have one within the year.

      • 1950 to 1962 - The Atomic Revolution; new medicines, advanced technologies, and the prosperity of mankind at an extremely rapid pace. Meanwhile, the Vietnam War begins.

      • 1964 - American Forces join the fight in Vietnam against the North, reinforcing the USA's dedication to 'crushing Communism worldwide'. Meanwhile, the USSR begins to amass a nuclear arsenal as a precaution against a potential U.S. attack.

      • 1973 - America begins pulling out of the Vietnam War after the Tet Offensive. In two years, the war will be over.

      • 1975 - The FBI discovers Russian spies spread out across America, followed almost immediately by the revelation of the USSR's arsenal. The Cold War begins.

      • 1975 to 1982 - While the UN tries to end the Cold War, the rest of the world prepares for the possibility of nuclear decimation. Ato-Mech Inc. begins building nuclear fallout shelters. Meanwhile, the Vietnamese Government plots their revenge against America for their part in the Vietnam War.

      • 1982 - Area 51 is compromised; the first atomic detonation leading to the creation of 'the Great Mushroom Cloud' goes off. The United States of America is destroyed within a week; only who managed to reach a shelter survive.

      • 1983 - The Great Mushroom Cloud sweeps across the planet, covering planet Earth in a thick layer of highly irradiated smoke. Civilization as it was, has ended.

      • 2177 - The radiation level of the surface has dropped significantly and now, humanity can return to the outside world. The first humans emerge from the shelters and quickly begin to repopulate the decimated world.

      • 2178 - "The Royal Canadian Mountain Police" returns; they become the first organization from before the war to reemerge in the Wasteland.

      • 2180 - "The National Confederacy of Protection and Democracy" is created; they quickly spread throughout the United Wastes, becoming one of the largest post-war organizations in the world. Other prominent organizations begin popping up all across the globe.

      • 2182 - "The Legion of Cusreus" is created and quickly swarm through the Mojave Wasteland betor expanding aggressively throughout the United Wastes.

      • 2183 - The NCPD arrives in the Great White. Our adventure begins...
    • Ever since the 'Great Mushroom Cloud' ravaged the natural world, many countries were pieced together in an attempt to unify the individual continents from within. Canada, America and the state of Alaska became known as 'the Northern United Wastes', while South America, Mexico, and various islands surrounding the United Stated became 'the Tropical Wastes'. This trend of combining multiple countries and islands into one large continent continued throughout the world (the UK, Ireland and the countries in between Italy and Germany became "The Great Commonwealth", for example).

      As the new continents began to form, various members of their population began to band together and create small groups. Some of these citizens were Raiders, seeking only self-gratification and going out of their way to ensure 'ultimate survival' (which usually meant killing/kidnapping others and taking their possessions without remorse). Some groups, however, had bigger ideas. The "National Confederacy of Protection and Democracy" (NCPD) was created under the belief that society could not function without a system of unchallenged law, and as those who enforced 'law' (but some people call it oppression), the NCPD was able to spread out across the Northern Wastes and become one of the largest factions. Their original headquarters are located in the Memorial Capital (what used to be Washington, D.C.) and they have outposts in almost every state, but they have recently set their eyes on the previously unclaimed Great White (the remains of Canada).

      However, the Great White was not to be so readily taken. When the first NCPD division arrived in Kanadario (Ontario), they were greeted by the Royal Canadian Mountain Police (RCMP), a group of settlers who had since taken up the mantle of the legendary defenders from before the war. They believed that all men and women should be free to make their own decisions and that democracy was the best way to go about re-establishing a major government. They were strict with their enforcement of law, but they believed that anyone was innocent until proven guilty (as opposed to the NCPD, who'd just shoot you on sight). The RCMP wasn't about to give up their ancestral home to a bunch of post-American invaders, but they did not attack the NCPD. Instead, they proffered the idea of a mutual partnership. The Great White, although destroyed in the wake of the Great Mushroom Cloud, was still able to produce bountiful amounts of food and fresh water, both of which were relatively uncontaminated by the years of radiation (some of the rads still remain, but it's not enough to even cause permanent damage/radiation exposure). The NCPD had managed to claim a good portion of the United Wastes' resources and had been able to produce weapons and armour strong enough to survive in nearly any condition with minimal repair. So, the RCMP would provide the NCPD with supplies and food, while the NCPD provided the RCMP with the equipment they needed to protect themselves out in the Wasteland. This deal, however, has been in the negotiation stage for nearly a year and it is becoming apparent just how much the NCPD is growing frustrated with the attempt at peace (they just wish the RCMP would lay down and let them take control).

      However, a full out war between the two factions is only being kept at bay due to their common enemy still being at large; the Legion of Cusreus.

      Armond Cusreus, a seemingly innocent Shelter Dweller from the Mohave Desert, had become a rather dangerous man in the eyes of the general populace. At first, he had been involved with various Raider groups after venturing out from his underground home, but he soon found himself spiralling down the dark path into madness. He developed a superiority complex and after a series of successful hostile take-overs of NCPD camps residing around New Vegas, Armond was convinced that he was a God among men, capable of unifying even the most desolate and hopeless of men. Thus, his legion was born. He began to recruit various Raider groups into his new organization, introducing himself as a Messiah and promising them whatever they desired if they followed him as a Legionnaire.

      The Legion quickly spread through the Mohave like a rodent infestation, but it wasn't until they began to expand into the greater United Wastes that the issue was finally noticed by the NCPD and other prominent groups throughout the country. The NCPD has managed to put up quite the fight against the Legion, but despite their best efforts, the Legion of Cusreus has managed to stake their claim in almost every state. But just like the NCPD before them, the Legion recognized the bountiful resources belonging to the Great White and has begun a preliminary conquest to take the land from both the NCPD and the RCMP before a deal can be struck. Luckily for the citizens of the Great White, the NCPD and the RCMP have put up a considerable fight against the Legionnaires, forcing them to stay out of the Great White (for now).

      However, the war between the three factions is not the only thing that denizens of the Great White have to worry about. There are countless species of irradiated (and aggressive) animals roaming the landscape, ranging from the terrifying "Bloodmen" (humanoid bat monsters) to the mongrel "Coujo" (large mutated coyotes). Not to mention having to deal with potential attacks from any "Lurkers" wandering around (highly irradiated people who have become vicious, feral creatures that consume human flesh). Although many of these threats can be handled with a trusty pistol, most citizens of the Great White still live in fear.

      As for the actual landscape of the Great White, most of the country is covered by dusty plains with the occasional forest popping up across what remains of the Green Belt. Strewn across the earth are various remains of the old world, be it from decrepit buildings or destroyed roadways (such as the 'Longest Road', the remains of a highway that stretched across the whole of the Great White, from British Columbia to Newfoundland and Labrador, once known as the Trans-Canada Highway. Now it is used as the primary road for traders and travelling caravans, but many Raider groups have also set up camp around the former roadway).

      But despite how the landscape may seem outwardly desolate, many farmers have found that the radiation from the Great Mushroom Cloud has actually increased both the fertility of the soil and the rate at which crops can grow. As well, there is plenty of salvage to be discovered and a nearly untold amount of ores and minerals which can be acquired from various mining operations which have web established across the landscape.


      Although most of the Wasteland doesn't use any form of currency, relying instead on a bartering system or doing favours as a means of attaining items. However, Seeds, Cigarettes, and Alcohol are sought-out commodities and those who produce their own have established quite the life for themselves.​
    • We'll be accepting up to ten players. You may have up to two characters (if you can accept it that is).

      We may be allowing more people to join later on, but 10 is our starting cut-off number.

      1.) Dr. Matthias "Matt" Smith - mr_pibbs











      Waiting List: For those who wish to join, but all spots are taken at the time.










    • **Note: If you chose to be a Shelter Dweller vs a Wastelander, that's fine. The option is more or less there to tell us who's been underground most of their life as opposed to who's lived out in the Great White for a while. Feel free to play around with that and other aspects of this

      However, since this takes place 3-5 years after humans began to populate the Wasteland above, anyone who chooses "Wastelander" must have been born in a shelter (presumably they left their shelter within the first year people began to leave).**

      Name: (First, Last. Middle name and Nicknames are optional)

      Wastelander or Shelter Dweller: (Where were you born/how long have you been walking around the Great White Wasteland?)

      Age: (16-48)

      Gender/Sex: (Male, Female, Trans, whatever you want to be! Just no mutants/in-human characters).

      Appearance: (Put any images of them here: the costume they wear, their face, etc. I’d prefer everyone use real images for their Faceclaim, but I’m fine with drawn/cosplay images of their outfit!)

      Background: (Info on your character’s life and maybe an explanation of how they came to join the Caravan. Should be three paragraphs minimum).

      Weapons: (Maximum of 2, but they cannot both be heavy weapons. Balance is key, I'll point out any issues I see.)

      Gear: (List any additional items they carry with them. These can correspond to their role within the Caravan, or they could just be things like sentimental trinkets. Things like ammo don't need to be included (unless they're large like rockets), nor does currency count. Really, you don't even need to fill all of these out, but it's here in case you want to give your character some extra stuff. Maximum of 10 items).

      Weaknesses/Tragic Flaw: (Every tortured soul living in a post apocalyptic world has a weakness. Tell us about the things that make your character vulnerable)

      Role Within the Caravan: (Leader, Doctor, Trader, Mercenary, etc.)

      Other: (include any additional information here)

      Writing Sample: (show how your character acts and what you're capable of in terms of posting! ^^)

    • [​IMG]

      He also wears a worn, brown Stetson.


      "Doctor" Matthias Sandusky Smith ("Matt" for short)

      Wastelander or Shelter Dweller:

      Wastelander (Originally a Shelter Dweller)


      23 (physically, but his actual age is closer to 200)


      Born and raised in "Shelter 112" (just North of Kanadario), Matthias had a very modest upbringing. Although he appears to be only twenty-three years in age, he is actually much older. In all actuality Matthias was only six years old when the Great Mushroom Cloud consumed the planet. His parents had been one of the many civilians who managed to secure a spot within a high-tech shelter early on and moved in immediately before the nuclear fallout. While all the shelter's took various approaches to dealing with the predicted intense wave of radiation such as installing lead-based doors and walls and building the actual 'shelter' almost 10 feet underground, Shelter 112 was one of a select few that housed the 'Cryogenic Survivor Program' (the purpose of which was to further isolate Shelter-Dwellers until the radiation levels dropped to a safe enough level, fearing that due to the large sum of radiation, the interior of the shelters would be flooded with enough rads to cause harmful effects).

      In 2160, the automatic radiation detectors shut off the system and released the denizens of Shelter 112. From there, Matthias and his family tried to start their lives over again. Life in Shelter 112 was simple enough for Matt growing up. Everyone contributed to the small society and took up various roles around the shelter, ranging from doctors, to chefs, to school teachers, to maintenance crews. The only thing people had to worry about was a potential radiation leak, but luckily that only happened once or twice in the nine years Matthias spent in Shelter 112. Matt often spent his younger years playing with the other children and lent the rest of his spare time to helping the adults around the shelter with various tasks; cleaning the market, helping to preserve the food supplies, and various other odd jobs. If one thing was to be said about Matthias when he was a child, it was that he was extremely intelligent.

      As time wore on, Matthias found himself spending more and more time inside of Shelter 112's medical clinic. Eventually he learned all the ins and outs of practicing medicine and when he was 14, Matthias decided that he would become a doctor. He spent the next two years practicing medicine in the clinic and getting as much experience as he could. When he was 17, Matthias passed a series of exams led by Shelter 112's head doctor and managed to achieve his doctorate. (Note: in the Shelters, people didn't know how long society was going to hold out, so the education process essentially ended at a grade-school level and from there, Shelter-Dwellers would pick their profession of choice and essentially begin a crash-course year of 'college' to learn all that they could while working in the field.)

      By the time Matthias finally earned his medical license, the year 2177 had arrived. For the first time in nearly two-hundred years, the doors of the shelter opened, allowing those who decided to leave a chance to explore the old world. Although his parents professed their intent to stay behind years prior when the shelter scientists discovered the intense drop in radiation, Matthias managed to convince his family to return to the surface and start anew.

      Once they were above ground, the Smiths roamed through the wreckage and ruin that was once Ontario, eventually coming across the ruins of their ancestral farm still standing after all those years. So, his father returned to work, enlisting the help of Matthias and his older brother, Atticus (who was 6 years older then his little brother) in order to get their farm back up and running. Thankfully, they managed to procure some of the infant cattle and livestock, as well as some seeds, from Shelter 112 and quickly managed to grow enough crops to feed a small town. Ironically enough, many settlers had come to the farmstead with the Smiths and the town of "Hopesville" was erected.

      However, things were not always so simple in Hopesville. Although their apparent success with the farm managed to provide the family with a nearly unlimited supply of food, the lack of defences also made it a prime target for Raider groups. Even people within the community would often turn against one another, arguing over necessities such as food, clean water, personal properties/possessions, and various supplies such as ammunition and weaponry. Luckily though, many of the Hopesville residents had been housed in Shelter 112 and knew one another very well, so any arguments that would arise were quickly ended by other townspeople.

      For the next two years, Matthias would help his father around the farmstead while also operating out of a small clinic he had built within his home. Things were good in Hopesville and the town was thriving; supplies were coming in daily via various caravans, Raider attacks were far and few in-between (and easily dealt with), and Atticus even got married, producing a beautiful daughter with his wife. The resurrection of the RCMP brought a flicker of hope to the hearts of the settlers, believing that society could once again return to the way it was before the GMC.

      Although he was content to just live out the rest of his days in Hopesville, Matthias couldn't resist the temptation to travel through the Wasteland and help anyone he came across. So, after a tearful goodbye with his family, the young man set off on his own at 17 with no idea of where he was going. All he needed was his pipe pistol, a crank-radio, and the open road...


      • A custom-made .45 round Pistol (patched up with salvage, lovingly referred to as "Old Faithful").


      • a Twelve Gauge, Double barreled Remington Shotgun (lovingly referred to as his "Boomstick")



      • Cooking supplies (a pot, a pan, some salt/other spices, a few utensils and plates. Also includes items used for skinning animals/cutting meat and a pack of matches for lighting campfires).

      • A water skin/flask

      • Assorted Medical Supplies (Rubbing Alcohol, scalpels, tweezers, a bone-saw, bandages and wrappings, syringes, and disinfectant. He also carries around medicine that helps reduce/cure the affects of radiation poisoning).

      • A stainless steel harmonica (Pre-War, surprisingly clean)

      • A small photograph of himself, another man, a young boy, and a woman. They appear quite happy and the other man has his left arm slung around Matt's shoulder.

      • A Gas-Mask

      • A pair of binoculars

      • A Map of the "Great White"

      • A Crank-Radio (tuned to 'Kanadario Klassic Radio').

      • A Crank-Flashlight/Lantern

      All of this is carried in a tanned leather satchel (think of what Indiana Jones wears).

      Weaknesses/Tragic Flaw:

      Matthias is a very emotional person and often makes his decisions based on how the situation makes him feel. Lurkers threatening some Wastelanders? Matt's there to kill some undead scum, shotgun in hand. NCPD extorting civilians for medical supplies? Matt's there to dole out some of his own stash to the sick and wounded. One of his caravan members is dying? Matt will work day and night to save them, believing that they cannot simply be replaced.

      This can, however, be his undoing. Because he acts on impulse and relies on his emotions to help make decisions, Matthias can also do some rather horrible things and potentially put himself or his companions at risk.

      Role Within the Caravan:

      Primary Doctor/Medic and Cook


      • When he was 19, Matthias stumbled across a farmstead which was under attack by some Raiders. While the farmers in question were able to fight back, it was obvious that they required some assistance. After a bit of 'aggressive negotiations', Matthias managed to save not only the family, but also helped guide their pregnant family dog through the birth process. As a way of thanking him for his efforts, the farmers gave Matthias one of the pups, which he named "Maxwell". Ever since then, Matthias and Maxwell have been as thick as thieves, working together to stay alive in the Wasteland that is the Great White.

      (Pictured below; Maxwell, a 4 year old Border Collie).


      "It's the End of the World (and I feel Fine)"

      Sample Post:

      "Alright, sir. I just need you to relax. This might hurt a bit." explained Matthias, gently snapping a rubber glove on his right hand, wielding a large syringe filled with painkillers. Sitting on the examination table was a middle-aged man, approximately 54 years old. This wasn't the first time the man had come for an examination, as a matter of fact, he was one of Matthias' best clients. He often came to the clinic every two weeks for his regular shot of Rad-Away, trading the young doctor a can of spiced peaches in return for the check-up. Today, however, he had a more serious injury.

      The patient had recently gotten into a bit of trouble with a local mobster, Tobias "Fat Toby" Fantone, who operated out of Spire City (Toronto). When the man failed to provide the gangster with their agreed upon payment for his services (4 cases of Cigarettes), Fat Toby sent out one of his enforcers and brutally assaulted the older man. Unfortunately for him, most people in the Great White are only out for themselves, so he received no help from the people who witnessed the attack. Although Matthias would have tried to defend him, the young doctor had already encountered Fat Toby in the past and their relationship wasn't exactly 'good', seeing as how Matthias publicly humiliated the gangster and his crew. Occasionally one of Fat Toby's goons would walk through the door of his clinic to try and get retribution, but they'd always leave either missing one of their limbs or they wouldn't leave at all. Matthias may be out to help others, but he isn't going to let some overweight bastard in a pre-war getup try to terrorize him. If Fat Toby wanted to be taken seriously, he would've come by Matthias clinic long ago.

      But as the man waited for the painkillers, Matthias gently switched on the radio positioned on the counter behind him. He always worked with a bit of music. Matthias found that it helped to calm the patients, but it was also just pleasant to have something playing in the background.

      "Ooooh, wa Oooh Ooooh. Ooooh, wa Oooh Ooooh. Each time we have a quarrel, it almost breaks my heart. 'Cause I'm so afraid, that we will have to part."

      Smiling as "Teenager In Love" by Dion and the Belmonts came on, Matthias was suddenly filled with the sweet memories of his days back in Hopesville. It had been his mother's favourite song growing up and oftentimes, she and his father would dance under the stars while listening to it. But Matthias had little time to think about the past at the moment; he had other business to attend to.

      Crossing over to the old man, Matthias quickly injected him in the shoulder blade with the painkillers. He then set down the syringe and gently took hold of the man's right arm, which hung limply by his side. It hadn't been broken, thank God, but Fat Toby's goons had managed to pop it out of its socket pretty badly. It wasn't a pretty sight to behold, but thankfully Matthias had a "lead-lined stomach", as his patients referred to it as. Once he had a pretty firm grip on the man's arm, Matthias moved his left hand up to the patients shoulder and held it steady. By now, the painkillers had taken full effect. Good. What was to come next would have been extremely painful had they not worked.

      As he prepped himself for the procedure, Matthias quietly began to sing along with the radio.

      "Each night I ask, the stars up above~"


      "Why must I be a teenager in love?"
    • Like Like x 2
    • Love Love x 1
  2. Calling dibs on a hard-assed femme fatale gunner chick! ;)

  3. [​IMG]

    My Character

    Charlotte "Charlie, Charles, Chuck, or whatever" Lang​




    In the last, sickly years of the Pre-War Era, countless Fallout Shelters were manufactured. The governments of the world, believing themselves to be high and mighty, attempted to create safe havens for the masses, but when what they feared the most fell from the sky, and when the world itself was engulfed in smoke, they found out that even the most technologically advanced “sanctuaries” were plywood shacks to the intensity of the nuclear destruction. If even the best Shelters couldn’t withstand the ruinous effects of Great Mushroom Cloud, what chance did the very first shelters have? That was the question for the people who lived in Seventh Shelter, quite literally Shelter no. 7.

    As one of the very first havens designed to protect its denizens from the effects of nuclear war, the Seventh Shelter was, of course, a product of its time. Built in 1979, it lagged behind its other, more spacious, more comfortable, and more advanced brethren; it had little ways of securing food, water, and other basic necessities; and it offered little protection against the harmful radiation that seeped from above. The reason for this was that unlike the better models that housed fancy Cryogenic Survivor Programs or top of the line facilities, Shelter no. 7 was specifically manufactured for the less fortunate. The luckless dregs of the Pre-War societies of the present-day Commonwealth were somewhat blessed that they were chosen to be put in the vault, but as time would have it, they’d live long enough to regret such a decision. With little beds to accommodate everyone, many of the families slept on the cold, hard ground; with little ways of securing clean water and food, most of the poor shelter dwellers died of starvation (that is, after most individuals were killed after a small uprising, significantly lowering the population of the Seventh Shelter to just enough people to have equal servings of food and water); and with little protection from the rads, a number of individuals contracted cancer (thankfully, the radiation levels never skyrocketed as to turn someone feral). The fact that these poor people lacked any well-educated individual to teach them anything important was the salt in the wound.

    The reality they lived in was ill fated, but for hundreds of years, their small society would flourish. From an entire city’s worth of less fortunate individuals, about only fifteen people were left. The radiation, as well as the low quality of life that the Seventh Shelter provided was not kind to the generations. In fact, as the years went by, the poor and less fortunate became aggressive, exemplifying what it takes to be a raider. They were very “medieval,” for lack of a better term. When the populace of the Seventh Shelter became used to the seeping radiation, they saw little use for the scrap metals lying around. They started tinkering, sharpening various metal sheets, and creating blunt and ugly weapons. These people ate very little food, drank little water, and were accustomed to not bathing for weeks to further conserve their resources. With the many deaths they’ve encountered, they had enough clothes, but were never washed.

    This was the reality that little Charlotte Lang, in the year 2158, was born into. Having not known what it was like before the Nuclear Fallout, she was simply okay with it. Her lack of education disallowed her from feeling curiosity and frustration, and whatever the little girl was given, she would accept wholeheartedly. Having been born to a people who have suffered from the effects of radiation exposure, Charlotte’s brain was severely “hindered.” It wasn’t so much as her getting brain damage as it was her losing the ability to learn at an average rate. This, coupled with living with people who have not been educated about social interactions, as well as not having heard about, or even seen any forms of science, explains her naiveté and stupidity.

    Her parents taught her only fighting and following her instincts, and how to build pistols, but that was that—any more types of information could give her a serious migraine. When she was 19 years old, in the year 2177, she set off into the world. The notion of “family” meant little to the teenage Charlotte, and both she and her parents were fine with going their separate ways, but not before saying their goodbyes. Before leaving, her parents gave her a rusty revolver, which she would later name Laxative, and about one hundred or so bullets. Charlotte learned the hard way that the Post-War Era wasn’t that bad, seeing as she was no stranger to hardship in the Seventh Shelter. It was more dangerous, yes, but with the skills she learned, it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. Wandering alone, she met various friendly strangers. She accidentally shot some of them out of shock.

    Charlotte then found herself with a bunch of Raiders, and they quickly hit things off. They were more her style. She was a loony bin, which made them like her even more. After various missions, she got rewarded with other things, like a lot of cool, stolen clothes, and weapons. She had three unforgettable times with those Raiders—first, she acquired her second baby, Diuretic, and heavily modded it to fit her needs; she realized her love for material goods; and, most importantly of all, she tasted alcohol for the very first time. One night, while piss-drunk, she accidentally shot her entire group, thinking they were target cutouts. She set fire to the place that night, and awoke outside, with only her boyfriend left alive. Hank was lucky to be alive, albeit scared and regretful from that day forward. The two became wandering mercenaries afterwards, and together, they stole a crapload of different stuff, until she got her boyfriend accidentally killed by goading him into getting an active landmine because she got the idea to “use them as explosive Frisbees for her enemies.”

    After that, she travelled alone, simply thieving from unwary strangers, stealing the most useless junk from abandoned places, and looting the dead. She built herself a small pull-wagon to house all her things, as well as her third and final gun, her M60. She just kinda’ wanders out and about, and does so till this very day, acting as a mercenary for the whoever can fill her pockets or stomach.
    Charlie's babies (open)
    Charlie wields this big-ass revolver. Actually, it's a .500 S&W Magnum, and its bullets are a pain in the, well, wherever you're shot. It's pretty rusty, but it still works. This gun is her main squeeze, and she named it Laxatives.

    Her second weapon is this heavily modded 10mm Pistol, with a serrated knife clipped and taped underneath the barrel, to suit her melee needs. It has a small dotted sight for better accuracy. Overall, this gun is held by duct tape and other rare adhesives. This gun’s name is Diuretic.

    Last but not least, she brings this bad boy out when there's trouble even she has trouble handling, which is rare. This is a custom-made M60 Machine Gun that utilizes full metal rounds. It's a beast.

    Charlie's Gear (open)
    Charlie built this wooden wagon to put all her crap in. It has multiple rice sacks labelled "(blank)"

    • A small zip-lock plastic bag full of bottle caps labeled "BOTTLE CAPS"
    • A rice sack full of different headgears labelled "HATS" which include a grey Alaska hat, a soldier's military helmet with camouflage, a grunge biker helmet with studs, a red and white baseball cap, a black Stetson, an Aviator's hat and various bandanas.
    • Five different types of eyewear, such as an Aviator's shades, an Aviator's goggles, a pair of reading glasses (that she never, ever wears), swimming goggles, and a British monocle.
    • Ten empty bottles of different alcoholic drinks.
    • Five almost-empty bottles of different alcoholic drinks (Vodka, Whiskey, Tequila, Bacardi, and Absinthe.)
    • A tarnished fork and knife.
    • So many stolen cigarettes and cigars, as well as about six lighters.
    • A hammer, saw, super glues, rolls of duct tape, and nails.
    • Black face-paint.
    • A lot of safety pins and pinned buttons.
    • A rice sack with a rope that she uses when taking things from an abandoned place.
    • A stuffed toy steak.

    Tragic Flaw:
    Aside from her cutthroat attitude, extreme disregard for authority, and borderline lunacy, she's also a self-confessed, as well as proud kleptomaniac and hoarder. One thing that may hinder her and the entire caravan group is her flaming necessity to pilfer the most worthless items off of abandoned places, corpses, and hidden caches so much, that she is prone to being over-encumbered by the sheer weight of her "collection," be they pre-way currency that lost all forms of value, spare parts beyond disrepair, ammunition that aren't compatible with her guns, bottle caps and, perhaps her favorite things of all, headgear and eyewear, such as the helmets of fallen soldiers, goggles and shades, and bandanas.

    Despite being a great shot, Charlie is stupefyingly dumb. Her judgement is, more often than not, unrefined; she sometimes forgets basic information, such as names of people, routes, locations of important items, and fine details; she has trouble using her common sense; and, to top it off, she is inconsistent with her words and feelings. She would hatch plans and end up not following suit mainly because of her forgetful nature. During her time as a wanderer, she has gotten two or three partners killed.

    The concept of stealth is unknown to her, as she has this habit of giving her fighting actions "sound effects" and is prone to random acts of flatulence, burping, nose, ear, and teeth-picking, vomiting, spitting, smoking, and more than occasional drunkenness.
    Caravan Role:
    Charlotte usually does the dirty work for her peeps. What she lacks in brain, she makes up for in brawn. Also, bust. That said, she's a certified, bona fide, everything-fied gunner.
    Her outfit consists of myriads of spoils and plundered items. Charlie changes her hat occasionally, albeit she only wears her Aviator's shades and goggles. Her outfit, which consists of a studded denim jacket, a dirty and torn white shirt with paint blots, various buttons, police badges, and safety pins pinned to the jacket, and tears; studded leather belt as well as a utility belt strapped to the belt; torn denim shorts with black leggings; rainbow-colored and black-and-white stripped arm warmers; knee-high boots; different bandanas strapped to her arms, neck, and head; various piercings such as the lip, nose, corner of her eyebrow, bellybutton, and ears; and various bracelets, necklaces, and dog tags; is very distracting.

    She has a fear of normal animals because she believes them looking unaffected by radiation is because of magic (notwithstanding the fact that she too appears to be normal), sleeps only on her wagon because she hypocritically hates thieves, and hates vegetables. She loves big guns, and is attracted to anyone, girl or guy, who can build big guns. She likes getting into fist fights, and will generally like someone if they can defeat her in a spitting contest. If it isn't obvious enough, she loves to drink.

    It's the End of the World (and I feel Fine).
    Writing Sample:
    (Accidentally deleted it lol)

    #4 Weiss, Jun 4, 2016
    Last edited: Jun 6, 2016
  4. Margie Dunning

    Margaret "Margie" Paige Dunning

    Wastelander or Shelter Dweller:



    (Below is the standard clothes that Margie wears, not those in the above picture.)

    Background: Margie grew up in Shelter 97, just south of Saskatoon. It was a larger shelter, built in an effort to accommodate the larger city to the north, however, many didn't initially make it before the blast swept over Canada. This proved to the advantage of the residents of the shelter as they now had more room to work, grow and thrive. A variety of people with a variety of jobs lived there.

    Shelter 97 had a system, as all shelters tended to have. It was simple, you trained for the job that your ancestors first possessed when they came to the shelter. You never wavered or called it into question and you were never meant to desire or want a different position. To do so meant punishment.

    Margie's ancestor was one of three doctors among those that escaped the blast and one of the 'councilors', people of the shelter that were elected to make the rules and regulations for the residents. Due to this, her family was well respected and provided with authority.

    Margie is part of the seventh generation of the shelter dwellers. Like her father and ancestors before her, she was trained to be a doctor. She never wanted to be part of tradition and she longed to do something different with her life. She studied about the old world in secret, about the time before the Great Mushroom Cloud. She had a growing fascination with pre-war technology and it's capabilities. What fascinated her most of all was radios and televisions. How did they work? What purpose did they serve? Could she make one someday? Would she ever even see one?

    Her secret obsession remained a secret as she stayed busy, working under her father to heal the ailments of the residents of Shelter 97. She was quite talented as a doctor, but her heart was never really in the work and when the time came that the radiation levels lowered enough to venture into the wasteland she was among the first to volunteer to leave. Many, included her parents chose to stay behind and she parted on good terms.

    She wandered the wasteland for some time, sometimes alone and sometimes part of a group. She continuously searches for items she feels is of value and is content to serve as Matt's assistant in her current caravan.


    • A rifle picked up from her previous group. They taught her to use it, but she prefers not to engage in fighting if she can avoid it at all.
    • Another weapon picked up from an old group. She's a little more adept at using the sword than the rifle but again, she prefers not having to use it.
    • A water skin
    • A small knife used for everyday tasks, like cutting bandages
    • A dusty old compass
    • A tattered sleeping bag with small holes
    • Rope
    • An old doctor's bag, her ancestor's, with medical supplies
    • A spare change of clothes
    • An ancient radio that doesn't work
    • A few pre-war books, miraculously unharmed
    • Scraps of pre-war technology

    Weaknesses/Tragic Flaw: Margie has a conflicted and guilty nature. She feels a duty to heal others as so many before her have done but she also has a sense of wanderlust. She wants to explore the great white wasteland that used to be Earth. She wants to see the world and all its terrible wonder. She grew up in a shelter where having wants and desires was forbidden and punishable.

    Margie is a healer, not a fighter. She's not as adept a fighter as her companions and so she lacks a great deal when it comes to combat. She's rather reliant on others to protect her from harm.

    Margie is a lonely person, despite growing up among many people in Shelter 97. She never had any siblings due to the shelter's one child rule and she was never very close or intimate with others.

    Role Within the Caravan: Doctor's Assistant/Secondary Doctor/Scavenger/Tinkerer

    Other: "It's the End of the World (and I feel Fine)"

    Writing Sample: Margie turned the dusty, ancient panel over in her hands. She had about three others just like it stuffed away in her pack but she was loathe to leave any technology the old world had to offer behind, especially when it came to the televisions and radios.

    Matt had a radio. A fascinating little object. She always wondered how the speaker worked and on more than one occasion she had wanted to take it apart. But she respected Matt too much to take his things.

    "I really don't need this...It'll only weigh me down." She bit her lip in thought as she weighed the pros and cons. On one hand it really would only weigh her down, even though it was light. On the other, she wanted it. She wasn't used to being open with things she wanted before. With a nod, she decided to add it to her growing, unnecessary collection and tucked it away with the others in her pack.

    Later that evening she sat by the campfire fiddling with the panel she picked up earlier that day. She had wiped it clean of the dust and grime that coated it for years and could now read the minuscule writing. Something said 'visual' and the tugged the multi-colored wires that led to nowhere. "Why couldn't I have learned this stuff instead?" she said aloud to no one in particular. "Being a doctor is so....boring."
    #5 kuukakulily, Jun 4, 2016
    Last edited: Jun 6, 2016
  5. Looks good, but you're missing one thing ;)
  6. Jaidyn Thomas Byrd (Gunner/Salvager) (open)

    Name: Jaidyn Thomas Byrd

    Wastelander or Shelter Dweller: Wastelander

    Age: 24

    Gender: Male

    Few of Jaidyn's features are visible, as he is permanently cloaked and hooded, and his face covered by a gask mask. The mask is mainly there to cover up his disfiguredly scarred face. He's almost 6" tall, his head hanging. Brown, sunken eyes.

    Jaidyn Thomas Byrd was born, like all men of his era, deep underground, far from the eye of the sun, in a nameless bunker on the southern border of Michigan. This shelter was not made to keep its inhabitants alive for long. Merely a year after the great Mushroom Cloud appeared, supplies were running thin, and power was running out. They did not, however, wait to die. Instead, they began to dig. Deeper into the earth, until they found what they had been looking for. A natural reservoir of water, a vast ocean beneath the earth's crust. With this gift they made life blossom underground. Luckily, they had biologists and engineers among them, who managed to create a working farmland.

    Power, however, was still short, especially since they needed powerful UV lamps to sustain their agriculture. The question answered itself, however, as they realized they only had one source of renewable energy. Themselves. So they created ergometric bycicles, and set everyone to work on shifts to create the electricity that they needed.

    And so they prevailed, outlasting the radiated storm, until all everyone knew of the old world were the memories of stories told. When the radiation levels began to dramatically sink, they were all eager to see the stories for themselves. Jaidyn and the other survivors were not greeted with a lovely sight, however. Above the ground, they found nothing but death and decay, and worse. In the hopes of discovering something more, however, they sent out scouting parties.

    In their folly, they had underestimated the dangers of the overworld. One of their scouting parties was assailed by raiders. After learning of the existence of their working underground agriculture, they forced the ones they had captured to lead them back to their shelter. Within days of having resurfaced, the raiders found their lair. With no hesitation, no warning given, they started butchering Jaidyn's family and friends. He saw his own family get torn to pieces, and there was nothing he could do but witness it all.

    Somehow he managed to crawl out of that awfulness, the only survivor from this nameless shelter. In an action of revenge, however, he rolled a boulder into the small hole. Falling with a loud clang to the round steel hatch, it effectively blocked the raiders' escape, forever trapping them inside. It was a small solace, however, to know that he had taken due revenge. Somehow, it even made the whole thing worse. He had condemned these people, buried them, killed them with own hands. They wouldn't know how to operate the facilities, how to properly make use of their system. They would die. To this day, it haunts him, perhaps even more than seeing his family killed.

    He set out in this perilous world alone and without means to survive. But he salvaged what he could, ate what he found. He survived. Barely. Until another group of raiders found him one morning, waking him into a new life. A life of slavery and torture.

    For months he was at the whim of his abusive captors, but eventually they trusted him with a weapon. They had no use for him if he could not fight, and so they trained him, turning him from a puppy into a dangerous dog, forced to commit murders regularly. It was sickening. It was destroying his mind, bit by bit. Despite it all, he grew to see his captors as his comrades. They were his new family. Until, by chance, they came upon another stray puppy. A young girl, who looked every inch like his sister. She looked like she had come straight from a shelter, wandering the surface for the first time. She was something pure and nice and innocent, something Jaidyn hadn't ever seen on the surface. In a solitary rebellion, he turned on his new family, and murdered his way to freedom. He didn't kill them all, but he killed enough, and ran off with the girl.

    They went after him, but he slipped through their fingers. By now, he had learned the way they tracked, outsmarting them, until finally he was free. Although he was free of his captivity, however, he was not free of his memories, which were as ugly as the scars upon his body. Lyn, the girl, became the only light in his life. In protecting her from the dangers of the wasteland, he found renewed purpose; a sense of direction. It was almost like having her little sister back.

    The pair wandered the wasteland together, trying to survive, until they became exhausted of going at it by themselves. So they began to seek for a caravan to join.

    G36C. salvaged and badly repaired, it still kicks like a mule.
    Broad, long-bladed machete for close quarters combat.

    Gear: A lighter, a gask mask, a handful clean filters for the gas mask, whetting stone, rope.

    Weaknesses/Tragic Flaw: Mental issues. Jaidyn's ability to socialize has been dramatically reduced due to his traumatic experiences. He suffers from severe PTSD and depression, and he's not always all there. He's not that good at making choices for himself or interact with other people, letting Lyn handle all of that.

    Role Within the Caravan: Gunner/wastelander

    Other: It's the End of the World (and I feel Fine)

    Evelyn Meyer (Entertainer/wastelander) (open)

    Name: Evelyn "Lyn" Meyer

    Wastelander or Shelter Dweller: Shelter Dweller

    Age: 16

    Gender/Sex: Female

    Appearance: (Unable to find fitting real face-claim. Sorry, OP!)

    Evelyn Meyer was one of the lucky few to grow up in Shelter 01, the Presidential nuclear fallout shelter. It was the shelter which the President of the USA, along with esteemed officials and other acknowledged people, were brought when the warheads fell. It was a state of the art facility, fitted with all the comforts of modern life. While many others struggled, the people in Shelter 01 were free to live their lives. They could focus on the arts, and cultivate history and philosophy, and all other scholarly or cultural pursuits. Evelyn herself, almost two hundred years after they evacuated underground, was able to grow up like a normal child, playing with the other children and going to school.

    They even had a sound political system, working much like democracy worked on the surface. Every four years, they chose a new President of The United States of America, even if he in reality only President of their little shelter. It was a way to keep tradition going, to keep civilization alive, if only in their minds. Engaging in politics and so many other frivolous activities allowed them to become distracted from the truth. That they were possibly the last people on Earth, and that even this shelter would not last forever. It wasn't something they told their children, however. They spoke of a beautiful world up above, like in the pictures of their school books. It was all going to be fine. Live and breathe and dream of tomorrow. The idea worked well. It drove the people on.

    That was, until the air began to clear. The Great Mushroom Cloud began to lift, radiation levels plummeting. But the government kept this secret. They knew what awaited them above. Desolation. The truth they had tried so hard to keep from the general public, the truth nobody would accept. In secret, they sent out recon teams to survey the land, and it was as they had feared. So they locked the shelter down tight and kept the secret for years. Eventually, however, the news broke.

    When people realized the surface air had been breathable for several years, the government keeping this information from them all the while… it was like learning they had been held prisoners without even knowing it. A quick rebellion ensued, ending with the doors to the shelter opening to the public. Outside, the truth lay before them. Many returned to the shelter immediately, the mere sight of the devastation traumatic. But many soldiered forth into the lands, including Lyn's family.

    Despite their optimistic intentions, they quickly found out that this was a lot harder than it had seemed. Sustenance was scarce, and new dangers roamed the lands. Their cushioned lives hadn't prepared them for anything like this.

    On a fateful night, Lyn's group was attacked by a large pack of mutated, ghoulish creatures, which were difficult to believe had once been men and women like them. Unable to defend themselves, they fled, scattering, the ghouls running them down. Lyn ran, running until exhaustion found her. She didn't know what had happened to her family, or any of the others. She hadn't seen. When she had tried to find her way back the next morning, she discovered that she was lost. All alone, defenseless, in this perilous land.

    By the time raiders found her, she was halfway dead of starvation. She screamed as they captured her, and their beating did little to silence her. She was sure her life had reached its end. But she was mistaken. Not long after her capture, she was freed, by an unlikely hero; a ragged, worn-down slave. He told her later that his name was Jaidyn, but beyond that he didn't appear to enjoy talking much. But in the weeks to come, he showed he true kindness, something she hadn't felt since her family had become lost to her.

    While his personality was that of a grim, lethargic half-mute, she could interptret his protective actions as kind and genuine. And she repaid him by trying her best to bring light to the darkness. Although her conversations with him were often monologues performed by her, she found him good company, as he managed to keep them both surviving in this barren wilderness.

    The two of them could not last forever on their own though. It was tiring, to live like this. They, or rather, Lyn decided, that it was time to join a caravan.

    Weapons: Lyn doesn't carry any weapons. Jaidyn is her weapon.

    Gear: A satchel full of books, with both fictional and factual content, a pre-war watch that works perfectly, and protective goggles.

    Weaknesses/Tragic Flaw: Having grown up sheltered and care-free, she's not fit to live this life at all. She might have learned a lot at school, but nothing which prepared her for the life of a wastelander. On her own, she wouldn't last long.

    Role Within the Caravan: Entertainer/wastelander

    Other: It's the End of the World (and I feel Fine)

    I had a little problem finding suitable face-claims. I'll also add a writing sample soonish, but otherwise the sheets are done I think.
  7. Margie is done. Let me know if everything's ok or if any changes need to be made.
  8. Added it >.>

    EDIT: @mr_pibbs I accidentally deleted my Writing Sample :(((( Do I need to redo it?
  9. No you're fine ^^
    • Like Like x 1
  10. Are you inviting anyone else to this, @mr_pibbs?
  11. Well I was waiting to see if the int. check people showed up, but I might open this in case they lost interest
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