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    Daryl Dixon

    Absentee
    I think the first two would be best, as I don't want an android. A synth would be fine, though.

    Make sure you don't overpower them though! Also despite you injuring the person that may have tried to rape Teysa, it would have gotten back to Negan and they would have been killed.

    Rape is a big no no with Negan and it's one of the biggest things that causes problems amongst raiders.
     
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    EpicVakarian

    Calibration-Master General
    I'll see what I can come up with in terms of a character. Probably going to be a Saviour, unless you need space filling up somewhere else.
     

    Simus

    An Excellent Site Member
    I like Goblin. Teysa could have fun, and a little revenge with him. I'll make a card for her later. Physically she's the opposite of Mavis, which I find funny to juxtapose.
     
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    EpicVakarian

    Calibration-Master General
    16300255_1385329028206945_267080232113255563_o.jpg

    GABBY

    The Saviors


    Alias: G4-96

    Age: 24

    Gender: Female

    Origin: Caucasian (synth)

    Laterality: Right-handed

    Sexuality:
    Heterosexual

    Marital status:
    Single

    Family:
    Mother is still alive, but she doesn't know that Gabby is alive.

    Affiliations:
    Saviors

    Afflictions:
    None


    PERSONALITY:


    Positive traits:
    Determined, eager to please, will always take the initiative and is good at tactical or logical thinking.

    Negative traits: Enjoys killing, can be cruel, quite selfish. Not quite fully sane, and a little bit sadistic.

    Likes: Good conversation, holding a power position, excessive violence.

    Dislikes: The Institute, knowing she is a synth, peaceful solutions.

    Fears: People discovering she is a synth.


    SPECIAL:


    Strength: 4

    Gabby is strong enough to do her job well enough, but not much else. She's lithe and quick, but she's no bodybuilder.

    Perception:
    7

    Gabby is quite observant, but she's no scout. She can spot things others might miss, but again, "eyes of a hawk" is an expression that doesn't quite apply to her.

    Endurance:
    5

    Average pain endurance, average fitness, you get the idea.

    Charisma:
    4

    Gabby is a woman whose idea of persuasion is cutting body parts off until they talk... So not much to be impressed by here.

    Intelligence:
    7

    Gabby is bright enough, and can occasionally come up with some smart ideas to help the Saviors. She's no doctor, but she's smarter than the average grunt.

    Agility:
    9

    One of the quickest, most agile people involved with the Saviors. In a sprint, she will outpace just about anyone, though she won't be winning any cross-country medals.

    Luck:
    1

    Nothing special here, Gabby relies on her skill and the skill of others around her, and no more.


    APPEARANCE:


    Height:
    5ft 5in

    Body: Skinny and lithe, not a lot of body fat. An average amount of muscle, but it doesn't really show.

    Eyes: Green

    Scars: A wound in her upper leg, deep enough to reveal her synthetic workings.

    Hair: Shaved on the sides and back, reasonably short, very light blonde hair on top.


    GEAR:


    Outfit:
    A pair of skinny jeans, and leather boots. A low-cut, short-sleeved leather jacket that bares her midriff and a pair of fingerless gloves.

    Weapons: A small, old but powerful Colt pistol with a homemade silencer attached. It doesn't work nearly as well as a true silencer, but it quietens the weapon enough for her needs. She is able to use larger rifles as well if need be, but she prefers not to carry one around with her since it makes it harder to run.


    BACKSTORY:

    Gabby doesn't have many fond memories of her childhood. She lived in Goodneighbor her entire life. Her mother was a waitress at the Third Rail, and her father worked as a mercenary in the employ of the mayor. A feisty young girl, she was trained to shoot and fight from an early age.

    At the age of 16, she joined her father's mercenary unit as a trainee, as competent as she was. She spent a long time as part of the unit, up until she was about 20.

    It was one night, out in the Commonwealth, that a strange man approached their group. He was dark-skinned, wearing sunglasses and a leather trench coat. His face betrayed absolutely no emotion whatsoever, and he obeyed no commands from the lookouts to stop. Without a word, he began slaughtering their group.

    The entire mercenary group opened fire on the man, but he took a lot more punishment than any normal human being could take. By the time the man was almost brought down, the entire squad had been massacred. Gabby finally got a good look at the unnatural force that had been brought down upon them, and saw no flesh; only metal and mechanical parts. A synth. The last she'd seen her father was when he charged straight at the synth; it was highly likely that he was dead, so all she could do was run, as fast as she could.

    It didn't work. A sudden, horrific pain burst through her thigh as an enormous chunk of metal tore through it, after being thrown by the synth, and she fell to the ground, immobilised. The synth approached her at a brisk walk, loading a shotgun, and Gabby experienced the worst fear she'd ever experienced.

    The synth held the shotgun to her head, and began to speak.
    "G4-96, initialise factory reset, authorisation hotel-4-"
    Before the synth could finish speaking, a loud blast sounded and its head was almost split in two. Her father was holding a shotgun himself, hobbling toward them, clutching at a bloody wound in his belly. The synth, showing no signs of surprise, simply raised its arm and blasted Gabby's father, finishing him off.

    The rage and adrenaline Gabby felt in that moment helped her fight through the pain, and she jumped up at the synth, buried her hands in the workings of its head, and tore it in half, finally ending the machine; and immediately collapsed, as the adrenaline faded and the pain rushed back.

    When she came to, her leg was patched up and the pain was gone. A letter had been left for her. It explained everything that had happened. About the "Courser", about the Institute, and about the revelation that Gabby was a synth. G4-96, her Institute designation; a complete and perfect replacement of her original self, who was supposedly dead and buried. The scar that the Courser had left had exposed her mechanical workings, and it wasn't likely to heal; meaning she'd have to be very careful with accidentally exposing the wound, especially around the wrong people.

    This loss and revelation did more than a little damage to Gabby's mind, and she spent two years just wandering on her own, selling her services to whoever could afford them, and earning herself a reputation. Aged 22, she found herself a place as part of an enormous raider group, the Saviors. She's really come into her own since joining; she's found new friends, new enemies, new ways to express her new psychotic tendencies, and to suppress her shame at being a synth.


     
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    I'll scrap the rape thing, it's unnecessary anyway. And a little dark. I'm almost done with the Cowboy's CC. Give me five.

    Sent from my SM-G935V using Tapatalk
     
    The West Lives On

    A Citizen's Profile

    By Piper Wright​

    In the third installment of "Citizen Profile," I examine one of the members of the Kingsport Lighthouse's security team. It's hard not to notice the gunslinger doppleganger that patrols our city, but I'll be taking a look under the ten-gallon hat to see what makes our staunch protector tick.

    Name: "Jarrod Henry Winchester."

    Appearance: He met me at the bar for our interview. He wore the Cowboy hat that's gained him his reputation. His face was red and pock marked from life in the wasteland, and he stroked his goatee as he contemplated my questions. A wad of chew sat in his lip throughout the interview, and he'doccasionally punctuate an answer with a spit into dirt. At 6'2" he towered over me when I shook his hand. His wide profile was intimidating, but it's easy to feel safe in his presence. His six shooter hung on his hip on a pistol belt adorned with ammunition and a large belt buckle. After taking a seat across from me he kicked up his boots on a nearby chair and leaned back.

    Background: "Not much to tell. Grew up with my parents on a trade caravan, Pa taught me to shoot. Ma taught me to drink. Never been much for book-learnin' so made a living with my hands, manual labor and such. Not glamorous, but kept me fed. Escorted trade caravans for a while, made a name for myself and a gun for hire. Didn't much like being told what to do. Killed as many raiders as I could during the war. Obviously not enough. Worked alongside the minutemen on a few occasions. Got along well enough. They asked me to join, but I'm no soldier. Settled down here about a year ago. Made it my home. I help keep the buildings from falling apart when I'm not patrolling."

    Parents: "Pa was mean. Ma was meaner. Taught me how to not die. Not sure where they are now."

    Skills: I asked him for a demonstration of his skills that I'd heard about. He smiled for the first time since the interview started and invited me outside. He grabbed six empty bottles on his way out. He set up five about 15 feet away from us on a makeshift shooting range, and set the sixth on the ground at his feet. He drew fast, shooting from the hip to hit the first bottle. He put one foot back and aimed down his sights for the second. He fanned the hammer to break the next three lightning fast. He holstered his weapon and handed me the bottle at his feet, and asked me to throw it hard as I could. I looked at him, looked up, and threw the bottle as high as I could. I saw it smash to pieces about 30 feet in the air, and by the time I looked back to him his gun was already holstered again, a wide smile decorating his face. I couldn’t help but smile too. He seemed to loosen up a bit more after that, and took a swig out of a flask from inside his coat as we walked back inside.

    What's with the Hat? "Keeps the sun out of my eyes."

    What weapons do you prefer? "Lever-action and revolvers. Big baddies out there in the wasteland, need big bullets.I don't go in for those lasers either. Keep a knife and a hatchet on me if I think I'll need 'em."

    What's next for you? This question seemed to give him pause. He looked away for a few moments, took a swig from his flask, and spit into the dirt. "Off the record, I've grown to like our little slice of paradise. I don’t want to move on, but prosperity is a thing that seldom lasts out here. More killing is coming. Just like it always does. What's next for any of us? Ahh, I'm rambling. Still a little drunk from breakfast. And I swear to god if you put any of that [Expletive deleted] in your little article I'll deny it. Then I'll march up to your little shack and [Redacted].

    I thanked him for his time and we parted ways. Buying him a few drinks throughout our interview paid off in the end, and proved that there is more to our antisocial cowboy than meets the eye. The romanticized era that he seems to have sprung out of may be long gone, but he proves that the spirit of the west lives on. If your reading this Jarrod, I'm sorry for the last bit, but I think you will thank me later on. It's time your neighbors know there's more than meets the eye behind the guns and whiskey. Join us next time as we get to know Simon Crowder. Father, minuteman, and neighbor, we get the real answers from our head of security.
     
    The name was kind of silly but I'll stick with it for now.
    Other Info:
    Good in a fight, closer the better. Will abandon his cowboy hat for the trader hat from 3 and new Vegas if expecting all out fighting. Wears a vest and collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and usually a bandolier across his chest. Low intelligence and charisma. Knowledgeable of guns and can press his own ammunition. Prefers magnum rounds.
    I like the idea of Simon being head of security. I figure Jarrod has been there about a year, maybe more if it's convenient, working under Simon's orders. Working on the CC for my raider presently.
     

    Daryl Dixon

    Absentee
    I like your keenness Simus and nothing brightens up my absolutely pl*psty day more than seeing you join the cast Epic. Especially after thinking you wouldn't.

    Won't lie guys, probably won't start up the RP thread today. I'll try though. I had a really bad day at work, hell, I've been having a lot of those. But I'm excited to get this rolling.

    Also, we still can fit more people. Especially if their name is Blitzz. But we do have enough to start up.


    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
     

    Daryl Dixon

    Absentee
    Simus, could you create another discord server for this RP? Also Cap, how old are the children of Simon?

    Also I'll need to PM you for my first post. Spoiler alert, being head of security is a big deal for this post.
     
    Name: Frankie "Goblin" Pierce

    Faction: Saviors

    Height: 5'7"

    Build: Lean and muscular.

    Appearance: Dirty, tattooed, and generally shirtless, he makes for a terrifying visage. He has a mohawk that he gels up before a fight or job, but otherwise just hangs off his head. Not particularly attractive, with a crooked set of teeth and a sadistic smile. His eyes are Hazel, wide, and always moving. His face covered in stubble, hair a dark brown. The last couple inches of his mohawk are died red. Scars cover his torso and extremities, namely a bullet wound on his left shoulder, a rope scar across his neck, and a previously broken nose. Dark circles around eyes from lack of sleep and drug use. Puts red lines beneath his eyes before a raid.

    Mannerisms: Rarely sits still, usually stalking around crazy-eyed staring down any foolish enough to make eye contact. Constantly chewing gum as his psycho & jet habit makes him restless. Usually smiling in an off-putting way. Short memory caused from years of brain cell death.

    Personality: Hatred for the world and all those in it. Twisted sense of humor. Reputation for terrible acts that grew his legend in a world where only force and fear were respected. Unpredictable, kept only in line by fear. Enjoys killing.

    Background: Born a slave and separated from his parents. Slaughtered his captors and enjoyed it. Never looked back. Eventually earned enough respect to run a small raider gang. When the gangs were unified during the war they were absorbed into one of the larger gangs. Negan saw a useful tool in The Goblin, and kept him close. The reasons for this were twofold: to use his terrifying presence to keep settlements in line, and to keep an eye on one of his most unpredictable assets. Negan keeps him in line through the visceral fear of bodily harm,torture, and death (Holding the reigns to his psycho supply doesn’t hurt, either). This is the only language that "The Goblin" speaks. His crew of six are referred to as "The Goblins," and everyone in it calls him Frankie.

    Clothing: Shirtless with tight padded pants tucked into untied combat boots. Sometimes wears a fur lined coat at night that goes down about to his thighs and that he leaves unbuttoned in the front.

    Weapons: Prefers makeshift weapons such as Crowbars, tire irons, and iron rods. Carries a compact six shot revolver at the small of his back. Takes pride in his railway rifle that he scavenged from a trade caravan, but only has a handful of rounds. Takes pleasure in killing and likes to make his own weapons. I have a few ideas in mind, but you will see those soon enough :)
     

    CapObvious

    A Rotten Scroungeral
    Ah, their ages, right. Quinn is 13, and Isaac would be 10.

    And sure thing! I'll be able to pm back and forth here in a bit. Just handling some things around the house quick now that I'm home.
     
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    Daryl Dixon

    Absentee
    I'll sort some stuff out after work, assuming I can get in touch with you guys then.


    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
     

    EpicVakarian

    Calibration-Master General
    Okay, apologies for the overly expanded-upon scene in the backstory, but I've added Gabby's backstory.
     

    Daryl Dixon

    Absentee
    Also synths don't have mechanical parts anywhere other than the synth component, but we can ignore that as we have Nick/prototypes. She could just be a different kind of synth. May have even been scrapped, who knows.
     

    Simus

    An Excellent Site Member
    Sorry Daryl. Fat fingered the rating. Not even sure which post you're talking about. I can't find the rating.
     

    Daryl Dixon

    Absentee
    Fix pls. Also, go to discord and talk to me there. Want to talk about some things. The post that starts with:

    "I think the first two would be best, as I don't want an android. A synth would be fine, though. "
     
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