Post by cotofconfusion on Sept 20, 2018 17:37:05 GMT -5
Finnigan Waterpipe
Affiliation: None
Species: Human Male
Birthplace: Cloneston Wastes
Birthdate: September 12th, 1283
Height: 6'0
Weight: ~190 lb
SUMMARY
Finnigan is a former bike gang leader turned exile after being abandoned by his gang. Not a stranger to violence and the moral gray but won't senselessly murder. His language is crass, and he can't claim to be the sharpest tool in the shed, but does however has an intimate knowledge of the wasteland and takes an active interest in its folklore. In addition, he knows how to survive in the wastes, even thrive. His weapons of choice are a combat shotgun and an improvised metal club (usually a wrench, or any iron pipe)
APPEARANCE
Finnigan is more wasteland barbarian than biker. An unshaved beard goes from ear to ear, while unkempt black hair goes neck-length. The hair covers a round face, itself holding two droopy green eyes and a large nose. A leather jacket, a Kevlar vest, and worn out jeans serves as his clothes. He's no bodybuilder, but he is physically fit enough to be a raider and gang leader. Thankfully Finnigan has never been maimed, but the wastes have wounded him different ways. A cough always follows him, an side effect of breathing polluted air.
Finnigan uses a shotgun similar to the trench gun, often using birdshot as a means to stun enemies. It was stolen from Hell's Feathers when Finnigan was 15, and when cleaned revealed to be a sturdy and well-made gun. He doesn't know the gun's origins, but knows it works well enough to keep for 13 years. When in close range, a combination of shotgun and a lead-pipe are used.
BEHAVIOR
Crass is Finnigan's middle name. When his words aren't muddled by a wastelander's accent, he often comes off as offensive, rude, and insensitive. Although he is all of these things to an extent, it's often exacerbated by his speech. He can be diplomatic, especially with likeminded raiders and potential employers. Serious however, he can never be. Whether it's a raid or a negotiation, he's always brings his flippant attitude.
Finnigan is a bit of an odd character. From an early age, he's been interested in the Wasteland's folklore, and even as a raider, often times he would spare those with a good story to tell. He often places an urban legend on the same level as money. He also believes much of what he hears, and solemnly stands by even some of the crazier tales. As far as technical knowledge goes, he knows nothing except how to maintain his bike and shotgun.
His knowledge on survival in the Wasteland is one of his strongest assets. He's been avoiding clone patrols and the more dangerous mutants since he was a child, and adapting to its barren climate for near thirty years.
Finnigan isn't afraid of getting close and personal with enemies, preferring that to long-ranged attack. Often, he'll want to be in the front-line, and to forego cover in favor of getting closer to the enemy.
RELATIONSHIPS
Currently, Finnigan has no affiliation. However, he used to belong to a small biker gang known as the "Orange Rattlers", which he is now hostile towards. The Orange Rattlers are a raider group which primarily preys on travelers in the western wasteland. They're as minor a gang as they come.
Finnigan barely knows what the Loonies are. He's only heard whispers of a group of crazy bandits who kill anyone who approaches their bases.
Finnigan has the same level of knowledge of Cloneston's city slickers. He's heard enough to know that things aren't as good for its residents as they seem. Though he fervently believes that wastelanders have it much, much worse, and isn't afraid to bring it up in every conversation.
Finnigan doesn't care about species. He's seen enough to judge based on merit rather than race. He's still disturbed by some of the stranger mutants however, and only associates with the saner kinds of clones.
HISTORY
Baby Finnigan was found by a group of wanderers in the western wastes. The group that had adopted him, Hell's Feathers, were a historical society, which attempted to, among other things, chart the wasteland and store valuable artifacts. They were pseudo-religious in their worship of newly collected artifacts, but were mostly tame as they raised young Finnigan. Finnigan had worked to store artifacts found in the Feather's journey. At age
13, he served as an extra hand to get rid of pests and serve as a scout for towns.
At 15 Finnigan set off, wanting for more adventure than what Hell's Feather provided, he set off on his last scouting mission and never came back. For the next six years Finnigan would wander the wastes, seeking new towns and opportunities. At 21, he had run into trouble with a gang known as the Orange Rattlers, but had made good friends with Cornelius, the gang leader. What followed for the next three years was Finnigan's promotion to right-hand man and successor. His leadership came a year later when Cornelius was mauled by a half-baked clone. What ensued was a two-year hunt for the mutant, and wide discontent for Finn's goose chase. Eventually, the Orange Rattlers had enough. While scavenging a crashed Loonie Stork, a Clone patrol came, and his gang, seeing an opportunity, threw him under the bus. Now in Cloneston, he seeks to exact his revenge on two enemies: the clone that killed Cornelius, and the gang that exiled him to the city.
Affiliation: None
Species: Human Male
Birthplace: Cloneston Wastes
Birthdate: September 12th, 1283
Height: 6'0
Weight: ~190 lb
SUMMARY
Finnigan is a former bike gang leader turned exile after being abandoned by his gang. Not a stranger to violence and the moral gray but won't senselessly murder. His language is crass, and he can't claim to be the sharpest tool in the shed, but does however has an intimate knowledge of the wasteland and takes an active interest in its folklore. In addition, he knows how to survive in the wastes, even thrive. His weapons of choice are a combat shotgun and an improvised metal club (usually a wrench, or any iron pipe)
APPEARANCE
Finnigan is more wasteland barbarian than biker. An unshaved beard goes from ear to ear, while unkempt black hair goes neck-length. The hair covers a round face, itself holding two droopy green eyes and a large nose. A leather jacket, a Kevlar vest, and worn out jeans serves as his clothes. He's no bodybuilder, but he is physically fit enough to be a raider and gang leader. Thankfully Finnigan has never been maimed, but the wastes have wounded him different ways. A cough always follows him, an side effect of breathing polluted air.
Finnigan uses a shotgun similar to the trench gun, often using birdshot as a means to stun enemies. It was stolen from Hell's Feathers when Finnigan was 15, and when cleaned revealed to be a sturdy and well-made gun. He doesn't know the gun's origins, but knows it works well enough to keep for 13 years. When in close range, a combination of shotgun and a lead-pipe are used.
BEHAVIOR
Crass is Finnigan's middle name. When his words aren't muddled by a wastelander's accent, he often comes off as offensive, rude, and insensitive. Although he is all of these things to an extent, it's often exacerbated by his speech. He can be diplomatic, especially with likeminded raiders and potential employers. Serious however, he can never be. Whether it's a raid or a negotiation, he's always brings his flippant attitude.
Finnigan is a bit of an odd character. From an early age, he's been interested in the Wasteland's folklore, and even as a raider, often times he would spare those with a good story to tell. He often places an urban legend on the same level as money. He also believes much of what he hears, and solemnly stands by even some of the crazier tales. As far as technical knowledge goes, he knows nothing except how to maintain his bike and shotgun.
His knowledge on survival in the Wasteland is one of his strongest assets. He's been avoiding clone patrols and the more dangerous mutants since he was a child, and adapting to its barren climate for near thirty years.
Finnigan isn't afraid of getting close and personal with enemies, preferring that to long-ranged attack. Often, he'll want to be in the front-line, and to forego cover in favor of getting closer to the enemy.
RELATIONSHIPS
Currently, Finnigan has no affiliation. However, he used to belong to a small biker gang known as the "Orange Rattlers", which he is now hostile towards. The Orange Rattlers are a raider group which primarily preys on travelers in the western wasteland. They're as minor a gang as they come.
Finnigan barely knows what the Loonies are. He's only heard whispers of a group of crazy bandits who kill anyone who approaches their bases.
Finnigan has the same level of knowledge of Cloneston's city slickers. He's heard enough to know that things aren't as good for its residents as they seem. Though he fervently believes that wastelanders have it much, much worse, and isn't afraid to bring it up in every conversation.
Finnigan doesn't care about species. He's seen enough to judge based on merit rather than race. He's still disturbed by some of the stranger mutants however, and only associates with the saner kinds of clones.
HISTORY
Baby Finnigan was found by a group of wanderers in the western wastes. The group that had adopted him, Hell's Feathers, were a historical society, which attempted to, among other things, chart the wasteland and store valuable artifacts. They were pseudo-religious in their worship of newly collected artifacts, but were mostly tame as they raised young Finnigan. Finnigan had worked to store artifacts found in the Feather's journey. At age
13, he served as an extra hand to get rid of pests and serve as a scout for towns.
At 15 Finnigan set off, wanting for more adventure than what Hell's Feather provided, he set off on his last scouting mission and never came back. For the next six years Finnigan would wander the wastes, seeking new towns and opportunities. At 21, he had run into trouble with a gang known as the Orange Rattlers, but had made good friends with Cornelius, the gang leader. What followed for the next three years was Finnigan's promotion to right-hand man and successor. His leadership came a year later when Cornelius was mauled by a half-baked clone. What ensued was a two-year hunt for the mutant, and wide discontent for Finn's goose chase. Eventually, the Orange Rattlers had enough. While scavenging a crashed Loonie Stork, a Clone patrol came, and his gang, seeing an opportunity, threw him under the bus. Now in Cloneston, he seeks to exact his revenge on two enemies: the clone that killed Cornelius, and the gang that exiled him to the city.
