Name: Richard "Rick" Hughes.
Age: 19.
Race: Human
Gender: Male.
Karma: Neutral.
Faction: Wildcard
Reputation: None to speak of.
SPECIAL: •
Strength: 6.
•
Perception: 8.
•
Endurance: 5
•
Charisma:6.
•
Intelligence: 6.
•
Agility: 7.
•
Luck: 2.
Level: 2.
Perks: Redneck: You get a +10 to all dice rolls related to attacking with revolvers, pistols, shotguns and rifles
Adrenaline rush: One time per adventure you can activate an Adrenaline Rush when in a combat situation, granting you two attacks and actions per turn. The first level gives you two 2 turns of Rush, the second level 4 turns and the third level 7 turns.
Height: 6'1.
Weight: 140lbs.
Body type: Lean, almost malnourished but the wasteland does that.
Hair style: Shaved.
Eyes: Fairly standard. Hazel, tired.
Skin color: California tan, sea worn.
Other: Extremely heavy scarring on the left of his torso.
Image: http://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/images/130/5542586-1376974776.jpgPsychical Description: He was raised by a simple people with simple ideals, and taken from them by a warlike people. Those warlike people have firearms. The one thing Rick truly respects is gunpowder, but his tribal roots tend to pop up in the least opportune times. The only time his hand wavers is against the innocent, the helpless. Anything or anyone else is fair game for high velocity lead. The NCR placed a gun in his hands and told him to fight, and he can respect that. Because of this, he holds many sentiments common in the NCR, specifically a particular dislike of the Enclave.
Inventory:
[/list]
[*]Main Weapon: 9mm pistol
[*]Secondary Weapon: makeshift knife
[*]Helmet: Makeshift hood, to keep glare down
[*]Mask: Busted riot mask
[*]Goggles: Busted riot mask
[*]Clothes: Old world jeans and tee shirt, work boots
[*]Armor: hand made leathers, mainly for storage and ease of movement
[*]Backpack: Camp knapsack
[*]First Accessory: Prybar
[*]Second Accessory: Basic repair kit
[*]Other: NCR dog tags, draped around his neck at all times
[/list]
Defect of the Character: Rick is prone to letting the lure of caps and weaponry get him into trouble. Lots of trouble. This is only exacerbated by his horrible luck, which his old tribal sentiments accredit to the Father in the Caves getting back at him for leaving Zion.
Aspirations: Money. Lots of guns and money. That is until his conscious gets in the way.
Other details: Rick tends to avoid the Enclave at all possible times, NCR training makes it so his hairs stand on end at the sight of that power armor. BoS will most likely recognize him as NCR, so that never helps. Finally, he is still a Sorrow at heart, and firmly believes in the Father in the Caves, and will defend his beliefs. Violently.
Background story: Zion was a fairly nice place, ample game and trading in the area led to the prosperity of the local tribes. In the sorrows tribe lived a boy by the name of "Sense-Of-Accomplishment," he was a gifted scout and marksman for the tribe. The boy held almost religious respect for his arms, specifically long rifles. None in the tribe could out shoot him with a rifle. Eventually, the area caught the eye of the NCR, who practically steamrolled the place. 50% of the physically fit Zion natives aged 12-45 were drafted into the New California Republic supply corps, and "Sense-of-Accomplishment" was one of them. At age 13, he was torn from his home and deployed as an armory management assistant in San Francisco.
If anything, the kid was a decent shot, and caught the attention of recruitment. On his 17th birthday he was branded an NCR trooper, and swiftly made his way up the ranks. "Specialist Hughes" as was engraved on his Dog tag, was once again relocated to the south of the California wasteland. His assignment was to secure a pre-war armory. As his godaweful luck would have it, the armory was being used by an enclave remnant group. The battle of the San Bernardino military base was Rick's first slaughter. That day alone his kill count rose from one, to nine men and women. That day he remembered a story from Zion, about an old spirit of the caves raining his fury down on murderers. The only thing that was rained on Richard was praise.
In nine months time San Bernardino was a populated NCR trading town, and Richard had been placed on MP duty. As it turns out, setting up a city in military ruins full of weaponry can turn out poorly. It was not long before a rebellious gang took up arms and rioted. A week after Rick's 19th birthday he donned his shiny new ballistic armor, was handed his standard issue LMG, loaded with rubber rounds, and told to "crowd control." Specialist Richard Hughes preformed with honor and dignity.
After two days of fighting the rioters, the conflict was brought to a close with the capture of the leader of the uprising. A woman named Daisy Monroe. She was sentenced to serve life in the Diablo del Hierro prison, south of the Mexican border. Richard drew the short straw, and was assigned as a guard on the transport ship. No more than a few days at sea, and a massive radiation storm rocked the ship, blowing it far off course into the pacific. A few knots from the Hawaiian coast, the ship was beset upon by pirates, who simply outnumbered and out gunned the stationed guards. In the firefighting, a shell struck the housing for the fusion reactor- detonating much of the ship. At the time, Rick was fighting on the bow of the ship, far enough to not be obliterated by the explosion. Not far enough to escape unscathed. As the ship blew, multiple shrapnel shards tore up his torso, knocking him unconscious and setting him adrift in the ocean. It was a day drifting at sea before he washed up on the shoreline, and was picked up by a mercenary tribe. It has been four months of recovery, and Rick is able to stand on his own. Fight, even. Lost in a new kind of wasteland, Rick sets out to reclaim his standing, and his gear.
Subject: Rick Hughes 
