Post by Byzantion on Jan 27, 2019 17:38:52 GMT -5
Gonzalo Helme
(Outlaw, Mercenary)
Aliases: Gonzie, Greenhorn
Affiliation: Mercenary, Prince Sillytanks
Species: Human (Male, Hispanic)
Birthplace: Cutterburg, Karzak-Schiller Mountain Range, Darimesa
Height: Five feet, ten inches.
Weight: Two-hundred and three pounds.
SUMMARY
A stocky, disheveled ex-bandit with a hostile, suspicious attitude about him. Being a capable craftsman and a steady shot have done little to keep him on the straight-and-narrow, and he excels in finding novel ways of stumbling into bad fortune. His suspicious rural nature ensures he doesn’t warm up to new faces much at all, and his practical smarts don’t translate into social skills, leading him to be boorish with everyone he meets. Most people who know him either care little for him personally or would spit on his grave, so he endeavors to put as much distance between himself and those types as he can, and to keep trying to make a new start somewhere else on the open road – but if he gets a chance to score big, damn the consequences.
APPEARANCE
While of average height, Gonzalo’s physical build is quite robust. He’s rather thick and has hefty limbs, but leans toward having slightly more fat on him than developed muscle. His skin is a creasy, sunbaked brown, with a patchy complexion and dark spots under his eyes. His curly black hair is shoulder length, and is usually very messy and unkempt, though with regards to facial hair he tends to keep a clean shave. His eyes are a dark brown, usually throwing a foul gaze at someone or another.
He has some superficial scarring on his neck and on his left temple, with deeper gashes near his legs and waist, easily concealed by clothing.
While he isn’t attached to any particular piece of clothing and will wear whatever suits the environment, he always tries to keep a toolbox nearby in the event he can cobble together some new equipment, whether that be makeshift armor, weaponry, or more pedestrian gear.
BEHAVIOR
Gonzalo is a selfish yokel. His web of knowledge doesn’t cast much further than the general area he was born and everything he’s figured out personally, fairly typical of a Set denizen. He only speaks English, simplistically at that. He’s at the least intolerant of anyone he doesn’t know, and will shoot at nearly anything else. He’s no fan of getting bossed around, especially if it’s by someone he dislikes, which is most folk. On top of this, he tends to be exceptionally rude, as well as short-sighted and reckless. This latter quality of his has taken him down many roads that haven’t ended well, and thus his outlook on life is rather bleak.
Despite his ill-disposed nature, he isn’t stupid or malicious, necessarily. For all he doesn’t know, he’s a fairly sharp learner, and is quite at home when creating things out of spare parts, something he enjoys immensely. His familiarity with non-electrical machinery exceeds that of most other rural folk near his home region, though that isn’t saying much. In addition, while he may hold his own well-being above anyone else’s and doesn’t hesitate to kill, he tends to look down on unnecessary cruelty and hedonistic behavior, conducting himself to some nebulous moral standard that even he himself can't really specify – but one that exists nonetheless.
Whatever his personal inclinations, he still comes from outlaw stock, and as a result of that lifestyle, is notably opportunistic. He isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty if it means there’ll be a payout worth the effort, whatever it may be.
GOALS
= Find trustworthy companionship (certain “peoples” need not apply).
= Build a clean reputation that will precede him and won’t get him hung.
= Live in the open country, free of any law but his own.
RELATIONSHIPS
Gonzalo has run into a few Loonies on his travels, but even more talk of them. His general understanding is that they’re reclusive, organized and dangerous, and that’s the kind of attention a smart outlaw keeps his distance from. (Avoidant)
Space Loonies are something Gonzalo has rarely heard of, never met, and doesn’t care to. If they’re anything like landlocked Loonies, he wouldn’t like them anyway. (Apathetic)
The Cult of Meat has a sizable following in Cutterburg but is outnumbered by Abrahamic faithful, for now. Gonzalo grew to see them (and any other religious folk for that matter) as delusional lemmings, with the exception that Cultists are far more dangerous to try and rob on the road. (Cautious)
Gonzalo has learned not to mess with clones. Experiences both within and outside of Cloneston have given him the view that they’re ruthless, unfeeling and that their priorities are utterly unfathomable to the common man. Having been lucky enough to escape a hostile encounter with them, he’s not eager to be on the business end of their advanced hardware any time soon. (Avoidant)
Having not met him in person, his new employer Prince Sillytanks is just a figurative name on a check. Who he is and what his plans are happen to be irrelevant to Gonzalo outside of any directives that come with a paired incentive.
HISTORY
Gonzalo was born in a town called Cutterburg, a settlement with above average industrial power thanks to a steel mill that acts as the cornerstone of the local economy and trade. It attracts a lot of business, which is to say it attracts lots of bandits, raiders and monstrous horrors as well.
Living inside Cutterburg was safe for the most part, but grueling. Education is basic, and living standards are pitiful, especially for the industrial workers. His mother passed in poor health when he was nine, and he was taken in by an outlaw-gone-straight in the militia, who regaled him with exploits of the crew she used to roll with. Gonzalo’s idealized view of this roguish adventurism led to him running with hoodlums and delinquents inside the town walls, causing all manner of mischief. Luckily his new guardian managed to squeeze him into an apprenticeship under some local craftsmen in order to learn how to keep the lifeblood of the settlement, its production capabilities, alive and well, and he took to this profession with some talent.
However, particularly cruel exploits with his fellow idiot friends involving the daughter of a prominent town official led to him abandoning his life behind the walls, where he would finally fall in with the outlaws in the snowy wilderness that he’d long romanticized. The life wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, but he found his place and had a sense of camaraderie. He learned to fight, and honed his skills maintaining the camp’s gear, pissing away their profits and their time in smaller villages in the region while dodging rival crews, monsters and even misplaced clones that often turned up in the area.
A few years on, and the gang’s leadership became increasingly lazy and authoritarian in equal measure, to the chagrin of many of their subordinates, leading to Gonzalo taking part in a murderous coup that would spell the end of their union, the former band of forty dissolving into separate groups, Gonzalo remaining close with a mere four of his comrades. He had almost considering going straight and trying to settle into another town, but one of his fellows proposed seeking new opportunities far from home, having heard stories of an enormous city reached up into the clouds from wasters and caravaneers, far to the northwest, and protected by legions of identical men. Hyped on unrealistic expectations, they set out on horseback to tail the lost clones that frequently appeared near Cutterburg on their long march home, and began their trek northwest out of the mountains.
An arduous, two months long journey would follow across central Darimesa before they would near the edge of the Cloneston wastelands. Their clone guides didn’t last, marching until their bodies were destroyed by the effort, but not before killing one of their group’s number after a botched attempt at a tail. Another was claimed by exposure to the unreal weather of the continent. A third, disappeared from camp one night, with his horse and his belongings still eerily present. By the time they arrived, only Gonzalo and their de facto leader remained. Before they could make plans to traverse the wastes, an aerial patrol from Cloneston caught sight of them, and the two were forcibly apprehended and airlifted to one of the lower city’s departments, being split up during processing. Once the clones were finished with him, Gonzalo was left bewildered and alone on the streets of a megalopolis that dwarfed his meagre understanding of what he’d come all this way for.
His taste of life in Cloneston was especially bitter. After a time as a vagrant, underpaid handyman, and plumber, Gonzalo fell into the shoes of a foot soldier for one of the countless bandit kingdoms sprinkled throughout the city, in an attempt to secure some basic living standards at the cost of risking his skin. He earned his scars against various rival factions, monsters infesting the undercity, and even Cloneston’s finest for the sake of petty gains in turf wars and securing narcotics shipments to abuse. Even worse, nobody in his new gang or this whole grayscale prison of a city that he’d personally met had any spirit or pride, which disgusted him. People only lived to see the next day, and he wished to have no more of it.
An opportunity did come, eventually. After many months of senseless violence and drudgery, his fellow outlaw from Cutterburg would track him down and request a meeting. Unlike Gonzalo, this man had done well for himself, ingratiating himself with a hacker known as Prince Sillytanks that ruled over his own isolated section of Cloneston, and he had managed to become known as one of his most resourceful lieutenants. This lieutenant came with an offer: act as an agent for the “prince” abroad, and he’ll arrange for transport out of Cloneston, set him up with some equipment, and even find him employment on the outside. Compared to his continued squalid existence, such a dazzling offer was impossible to refuse.
(Outlaw, Mercenary)
Aliases: Gonzie, Greenhorn
Affiliation: Mercenary, Prince Sillytanks
Species: Human (Male, Hispanic)
Birthplace: Cutterburg, Karzak-Schiller Mountain Range, Darimesa
Height: Five feet, ten inches.
Weight: Two-hundred and three pounds.
SUMMARY
A stocky, disheveled ex-bandit with a hostile, suspicious attitude about him. Being a capable craftsman and a steady shot have done little to keep him on the straight-and-narrow, and he excels in finding novel ways of stumbling into bad fortune. His suspicious rural nature ensures he doesn’t warm up to new faces much at all, and his practical smarts don’t translate into social skills, leading him to be boorish with everyone he meets. Most people who know him either care little for him personally or would spit on his grave, so he endeavors to put as much distance between himself and those types as he can, and to keep trying to make a new start somewhere else on the open road – but if he gets a chance to score big, damn the consequences.
APPEARANCE
While of average height, Gonzalo’s physical build is quite robust. He’s rather thick and has hefty limbs, but leans toward having slightly more fat on him than developed muscle. His skin is a creasy, sunbaked brown, with a patchy complexion and dark spots under his eyes. His curly black hair is shoulder length, and is usually very messy and unkempt, though with regards to facial hair he tends to keep a clean shave. His eyes are a dark brown, usually throwing a foul gaze at someone or another.
He has some superficial scarring on his neck and on his left temple, with deeper gashes near his legs and waist, easily concealed by clothing.
While he isn’t attached to any particular piece of clothing and will wear whatever suits the environment, he always tries to keep a toolbox nearby in the event he can cobble together some new equipment, whether that be makeshift armor, weaponry, or more pedestrian gear.
BEHAVIOR
Gonzalo is a selfish yokel. His web of knowledge doesn’t cast much further than the general area he was born and everything he’s figured out personally, fairly typical of a Set denizen. He only speaks English, simplistically at that. He’s at the least intolerant of anyone he doesn’t know, and will shoot at nearly anything else. He’s no fan of getting bossed around, especially if it’s by someone he dislikes, which is most folk. On top of this, he tends to be exceptionally rude, as well as short-sighted and reckless. This latter quality of his has taken him down many roads that haven’t ended well, and thus his outlook on life is rather bleak.
Despite his ill-disposed nature, he isn’t stupid or malicious, necessarily. For all he doesn’t know, he’s a fairly sharp learner, and is quite at home when creating things out of spare parts, something he enjoys immensely. His familiarity with non-electrical machinery exceeds that of most other rural folk near his home region, though that isn’t saying much. In addition, while he may hold his own well-being above anyone else’s and doesn’t hesitate to kill, he tends to look down on unnecessary cruelty and hedonistic behavior, conducting himself to some nebulous moral standard that even he himself can't really specify – but one that exists nonetheless.
Whatever his personal inclinations, he still comes from outlaw stock, and as a result of that lifestyle, is notably opportunistic. He isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty if it means there’ll be a payout worth the effort, whatever it may be.
GOALS
= Find trustworthy companionship (certain “peoples” need not apply).
= Build a clean reputation that will precede him and won’t get him hung.
= Live in the open country, free of any law but his own.
RELATIONSHIPS
Gonzalo has run into a few Loonies on his travels, but even more talk of them. His general understanding is that they’re reclusive, organized and dangerous, and that’s the kind of attention a smart outlaw keeps his distance from. (Avoidant)
Space Loonies are something Gonzalo has rarely heard of, never met, and doesn’t care to. If they’re anything like landlocked Loonies, he wouldn’t like them anyway. (Apathetic)
The Cult of Meat has a sizable following in Cutterburg but is outnumbered by Abrahamic faithful, for now. Gonzalo grew to see them (and any other religious folk for that matter) as delusional lemmings, with the exception that Cultists are far more dangerous to try and rob on the road. (Cautious)
Gonzalo has learned not to mess with clones. Experiences both within and outside of Cloneston have given him the view that they’re ruthless, unfeeling and that their priorities are utterly unfathomable to the common man. Having been lucky enough to escape a hostile encounter with them, he’s not eager to be on the business end of their advanced hardware any time soon. (Avoidant)
Having not met him in person, his new employer Prince Sillytanks is just a figurative name on a check. Who he is and what his plans are happen to be irrelevant to Gonzalo outside of any directives that come with a paired incentive.
HISTORY
Gonzalo was born in a town called Cutterburg, a settlement with above average industrial power thanks to a steel mill that acts as the cornerstone of the local economy and trade. It attracts a lot of business, which is to say it attracts lots of bandits, raiders and monstrous horrors as well.
Living inside Cutterburg was safe for the most part, but grueling. Education is basic, and living standards are pitiful, especially for the industrial workers. His mother passed in poor health when he was nine, and he was taken in by an outlaw-gone-straight in the militia, who regaled him with exploits of the crew she used to roll with. Gonzalo’s idealized view of this roguish adventurism led to him running with hoodlums and delinquents inside the town walls, causing all manner of mischief. Luckily his new guardian managed to squeeze him into an apprenticeship under some local craftsmen in order to learn how to keep the lifeblood of the settlement, its production capabilities, alive and well, and he took to this profession with some talent.
However, particularly cruel exploits with his fellow idiot friends involving the daughter of a prominent town official led to him abandoning his life behind the walls, where he would finally fall in with the outlaws in the snowy wilderness that he’d long romanticized. The life wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, but he found his place and had a sense of camaraderie. He learned to fight, and honed his skills maintaining the camp’s gear, pissing away their profits and their time in smaller villages in the region while dodging rival crews, monsters and even misplaced clones that often turned up in the area.
A few years on, and the gang’s leadership became increasingly lazy and authoritarian in equal measure, to the chagrin of many of their subordinates, leading to Gonzalo taking part in a murderous coup that would spell the end of their union, the former band of forty dissolving into separate groups, Gonzalo remaining close with a mere four of his comrades. He had almost considering going straight and trying to settle into another town, but one of his fellows proposed seeking new opportunities far from home, having heard stories of an enormous city reached up into the clouds from wasters and caravaneers, far to the northwest, and protected by legions of identical men. Hyped on unrealistic expectations, they set out on horseback to tail the lost clones that frequently appeared near Cutterburg on their long march home, and began their trek northwest out of the mountains.
An arduous, two months long journey would follow across central Darimesa before they would near the edge of the Cloneston wastelands. Their clone guides didn’t last, marching until their bodies were destroyed by the effort, but not before killing one of their group’s number after a botched attempt at a tail. Another was claimed by exposure to the unreal weather of the continent. A third, disappeared from camp one night, with his horse and his belongings still eerily present. By the time they arrived, only Gonzalo and their de facto leader remained. Before they could make plans to traverse the wastes, an aerial patrol from Cloneston caught sight of them, and the two were forcibly apprehended and airlifted to one of the lower city’s departments, being split up during processing. Once the clones were finished with him, Gonzalo was left bewildered and alone on the streets of a megalopolis that dwarfed his meagre understanding of what he’d come all this way for.
His taste of life in Cloneston was especially bitter. After a time as a vagrant, underpaid handyman, and plumber, Gonzalo fell into the shoes of a foot soldier for one of the countless bandit kingdoms sprinkled throughout the city, in an attempt to secure some basic living standards at the cost of risking his skin. He earned his scars against various rival factions, monsters infesting the undercity, and even Cloneston’s finest for the sake of petty gains in turf wars and securing narcotics shipments to abuse. Even worse, nobody in his new gang or this whole grayscale prison of a city that he’d personally met had any spirit or pride, which disgusted him. People only lived to see the next day, and he wished to have no more of it.
An opportunity did come, eventually. After many months of senseless violence and drudgery, his fellow outlaw from Cutterburg would track him down and request a meeting. Unlike Gonzalo, this man had done well for himself, ingratiating himself with a hacker known as Prince Sillytanks that ruled over his own isolated section of Cloneston, and he had managed to become known as one of his most resourceful lieutenants. This lieutenant came with an offer: act as an agent for the “prince” abroad, and he’ll arrange for transport out of Cloneston, set him up with some equipment, and even find him employment on the outside. Compared to his continued squalid existence, such a dazzling offer was impossible to refuse.
