Post by Kicks on Jul 6, 2014 3:46:12 GMT -6
Name: Booker
Gender: male
Age: 19
Race: human Caucasian
Description: His hair is a dirty blonde color His skin is lightly tanned, and his eyes are a light grey tint, sometimes mistaken for an off-blue. Booker likes to dress fashionably, his favorite style is pre-war. Suits suit him! He is completely intact, he doesn't have any missing pieces or limbs, no scars. Booker is slightly muscular, but only in his torso. His arms and shoulders are strong, though his legs are tall and stalky. He has a nice six pack which he shows off often.
Personality: Booker is a joker, he loves to be a smart talker. Usually, he is kind and is just looking for a friend. He is also constantly looking for some cute thing to bother. He is hopelessly a date hobbyist. His life revolves around guns, drinks, drugs and women. If you are the same gender he most likely wont pay you any mind, but it doesn't mean he wont have a drink with you and yab your ear off about all the women he's been with (even though he hasn't been with as many as he says!)
History: Booker grew up in a big vault, went to school (even though he didn't learn squat but anything about guns) and lived with his aunt. His parents died young, as they were both junkies and stole the medicines from the doctor's office often. Booker's aunt took him under her arm and tried to raise him right, but he did as he pleased and raised himself. When everyone got out of the vault, Booker was 18 and said goodbye to his aunt, wanting to explore the world himself. He loved her and respected her, but he was an only child with no parents who wanted to live life. So, Booker traveled the desert and learned much from those he encountered, whether they were bad or good.
When he was robbed, he learned not to trust so willingly, when he was helped, he learned to be generous. After a year of roaming the desert and learning all the dangers of the lands, Booker finally decided to settle down in town, though not always clung to one in particular. He is a regular bar stool, easy to find in any saloon. He goes from town to town, seeking tail and intoxicants, always ready with a witty remark to anyone who ushers him out the door in the early morning. Booker looks for small jobs when he's strapped for booze cash, constantly harassing gun dealers about their merchandise and pleading them to let him sweep their floors or guard their doors.
Gender: male
Age: 19
Race: human Caucasian
Description: His hair is a dirty blonde color His skin is lightly tanned, and his eyes are a light grey tint, sometimes mistaken for an off-blue. Booker likes to dress fashionably, his favorite style is pre-war. Suits suit him! He is completely intact, he doesn't have any missing pieces or limbs, no scars. Booker is slightly muscular, but only in his torso. His arms and shoulders are strong, though his legs are tall and stalky. He has a nice six pack which he shows off often.
Personality: Booker is a joker, he loves to be a smart talker. Usually, he is kind and is just looking for a friend. He is also constantly looking for some cute thing to bother. He is hopelessly a date hobbyist. His life revolves around guns, drinks, drugs and women. If you are the same gender he most likely wont pay you any mind, but it doesn't mean he wont have a drink with you and yab your ear off about all the women he's been with (even though he hasn't been with as many as he says!)
History: Booker grew up in a big vault, went to school (even though he didn't learn squat but anything about guns) and lived with his aunt. His parents died young, as they were both junkies and stole the medicines from the doctor's office often. Booker's aunt took him under her arm and tried to raise him right, but he did as he pleased and raised himself. When everyone got out of the vault, Booker was 18 and said goodbye to his aunt, wanting to explore the world himself. He loved her and respected her, but he was an only child with no parents who wanted to live life. So, Booker traveled the desert and learned much from those he encountered, whether they were bad or good.
When he was robbed, he learned not to trust so willingly, when he was helped, he learned to be generous. After a year of roaming the desert and learning all the dangers of the lands, Booker finally decided to settle down in town, though not always clung to one in particular. He is a regular bar stool, easy to find in any saloon. He goes from town to town, seeking tail and intoxicants, always ready with a witty remark to anyone who ushers him out the door in the early morning. Booker looks for small jobs when he's strapped for booze cash, constantly harassing gun dealers about their merchandise and pleading them to let him sweep their floors or guard their doors.
