Post by Feliciano Vargas on Feb 15, 2011 23:44:18 GMT -8
OOC
Same as North Italy info
IC
Nation: Republic of Ireland
Name: Conner Kirkland-O'Connor
Vault of Origin: Vault 13 – Lansing, Michigan
Age: 28
DoB: December 6
Sex: All man~
Height: 5' 11 1/2”
Weight: 140lbs
Appearance:
Conner is tall, thin, gangly and... well, sort of awkward looking. Malnutrition has made his height and naturally fast metabolism clash horribly, and he covers up as often as possible because the way his skin sticks to his ribs creep even him out. Usually with an old blue jumpsuit he found in the boxes from what was moved from the vault. He's been told more than once he looked like an escaped convict, so de decided to spice it up and added some off camo print fabric in hopes it would make him seem more of a regular person. Sadly, he still regularly gets mistaken for a convict.
Conner's hair is a bright ginger color and long, brushing his mid back, shocking against the gray, brown and dusty environment they usually travel through. Freckles speckle the areas of skin he does show, mainly his hands, arms, neck and face. Well, what you can see of his face that is. A bold black eye patch takes up a good portion of his features, the eye sightless from an accident when he was much younger and much stupider. It's better not to mention. The other is a bright emerald green to rival his sisters. Perhapd due to the loss of sight in the opposite eye, his left eye's vision is better than most pople's vision with both of their eyes in working order.
Caravan: Conner (and his twin?), though not specifically part of any caravan, will join one temporarily when it comes by and follow them for business, returning home (alone of with an entirely different caravan) when his wares and all the pups are sold. If no caravan is in sight though and he has pups to sell he will, and has on many an occasion, simply wandered off on his own.
Position in Caravan: Conner, when traveling alone, of course must take on all responsibilities that comes with traveling. If he can though he likes to join caravans and split the work - he'll hunt and usually take first guard if given the choice.
Town: He lives in a pseudo village with the entire “clan” somewhere in the Montana area. It is actually an old and large plantation converted into a mini town run by the family. With no official name to speak of, everyone simple refers to it as O'Connor's Kennel and Breeding Ranch.
Job: Conner helps his family rear Irish Wolfhound pups and train them for selling. He also helps his uncles grow tobacco and sells cigarettes for extra cash.
Pet: He (and his twin) got a pick of the liter and chose a red furred, male Irish wolfhound. He named his Flann, certain it'd be a great dog and listen to him. Flann is indeed a great hunting dog, but he rarely listens to simple commands from Conner. Flann is Conner's second personal dog, his first has been retired from hunting and travel. Terrance now stays at home and is taken care of by their mother when the he is out.
Personality: Conner is very blunt, very protective and has one hell of a right hook that hurts like a bitch. In simple terms at least. Growing up in such a tight knit family he's of course grown very protective over everyone he loves. Unconsciousness is for the lucky ones. He also has the habit of saying what he means, no matter how blunt or rude. This often gets him slapped by ladies or into fights with men. He refrains from talking bad near his mother since the woman's glare is the least of his worries and her bark is far tamer than her bite. Like any man Conner likes to prove himself – something most the family doesn't care for as it gets him into trouble often. Fight clubs are his next favorite place, right behind bars/pubs. The occasional wrestling or sports match works just as well too.
Though the man seems to have no calm bone in his body, when at home or in camp he can actually be very mellow. Cigarette in mouth he often simply plays the fiddle to wind down (or sews small rips in clothes since it seems his hand is steadier than most). Upset in a way that borders on depressed is rare for him, though when it does show up it seems like nothing can help it. The most sure fire way to send him into a clammed up shell will be to hit him in the face after knowing the story of his missing eye, something he tells only those who are close to him. He sees it as a grand insult and violation of trust. The guy can hold grudges so it's best not to tread in those waters.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Conner is very good at a few things. Fighting, selling, being overprotective of his family, jumping to conclusions and being a drunken chain smoker. The last two of course work against him much of the time, but in a world where stress is on an all time high you need something a relax he doesn't see the harm.
Equipment/Weapons: Conner always carries on his person: several packs of cigarettes, a variety of matches and lighters, one canteen of whiskey, a small billy club, brass knuckles and two machine pistols with as much ammo as he can shove into his pants and packs. You know, just in case.
History: 28 years ago, 2 years after the bombs dropped, in Vault 13 a ginger boy (set of ginger twins?) was born. Conner came into the world, the bastard child of a traveling man all smiles and charm and libido. He grew up with a pack of cousins and a larger litter of Irish Wolfhound pups as the older family members went above to check the land and see if they were going to settle down above the vault or move away. It was decided on the latter and when he (the twins?) was barely 5 years old, the whole O'Connor clan packed up what was theirs in the vault, said goodbye to their friends and left Michigan for greener pastures.
The caravan traveled, trading a few dogs along the way until they finally decided on and settled into a large abandoned plantation somewhere in northern Montana. They built a town of of the mansion and the many small buildings, converting once cow and horse pens into places for their dogs, using parts of the fields for food (an in an uncles case, a small plot of tobacco). People came, looked, occasionally purchased a dog and moved on, sometime telling people they met along the way, but the slow business was not good so some of the older cousins and aunt and uncles started taking a litter out themselves to sell as they traveled.
Conner, being an adventurous one and a rebel, had instantly wanted to explore their new area. Without supervision. It took him a year or two to think up a plan to sneak away without getting caught. So he took one of his mom's dogs and ventured out into the dying sun, into the forest where his mother had specifically told him not to go. He had a great time exploring and trying to climb trees – that was, until he and the dog got attacked by some mutated animal. Had one of the uncles not been paying attention when counting the dogs he might have gotten off far worse than a mutilated eye and with a dead dog draped over his small body. The event changed him and he never went out alone again, and paid extra care to the dogs. He's still slightly terrified of forests after dark, even with his guns and the dogs.
So as he (they?) got older he (the twins?) started helping out. He started in the fields, until he eventually started taking the jaunts with his cousins to help with the dogs.
Eventually those short day or two jaunts as a young teen turned into full out sales travels, in the beginning mostly with caravans. It took longer since he waited for ones to travel most of his way with, but eventually he was able enough and trusted enough to go off and return on his own without others to guide him.
The one thing Conner doesn't like about all this traveling though is two things: One – the obvious danger to himself from the vandals and mutated creatures out there, and Two – the possibility of meeting either his father or any of his fellow bastard siblings. His entire family has talked down on the man since his birth and he doesn't want to cross paths with him. The siblings thing is just weird to him too....
Writing Sample: ((will fill in later, after italy app is done CAUSE I HAVE MOD POWERZ -shot-))
(( Woot~! Well, anyone who need relations - ie England, Sealand, Wales, Scotland, etc - just go ahead and either send me a PM or an AIM, either on my personal or on the ADMIN AIM and I'll answer as soon as I can for history and planning and such~!))
Same as North Italy info
IC
Nation: Republic of Ireland
Name: Conner Kirkland-O'Connor
Vault of Origin: Vault 13 – Lansing, Michigan
Age: 28
DoB: December 6
Sex: All man~
Height: 5' 11 1/2”
Weight: 140lbs
Appearance:
Conner is tall, thin, gangly and... well, sort of awkward looking. Malnutrition has made his height and naturally fast metabolism clash horribly, and he covers up as often as possible because the way his skin sticks to his ribs creep even him out. Usually with an old blue jumpsuit he found in the boxes from what was moved from the vault. He's been told more than once he looked like an escaped convict, so de decided to spice it up and added some off camo print fabric in hopes it would make him seem more of a regular person. Sadly, he still regularly gets mistaken for a convict.
Conner's hair is a bright ginger color and long, brushing his mid back, shocking against the gray, brown and dusty environment they usually travel through. Freckles speckle the areas of skin he does show, mainly his hands, arms, neck and face. Well, what you can see of his face that is. A bold black eye patch takes up a good portion of his features, the eye sightless from an accident when he was much younger and much stupider. It's better not to mention. The other is a bright emerald green to rival his sisters. Perhapd due to the loss of sight in the opposite eye, his left eye's vision is better than most pople's vision with both of their eyes in working order.
Caravan: Conner (and his twin?), though not specifically part of any caravan, will join one temporarily when it comes by and follow them for business, returning home (alone of with an entirely different caravan) when his wares and all the pups are sold. If no caravan is in sight though and he has pups to sell he will, and has on many an occasion, simply wandered off on his own.
Position in Caravan: Conner, when traveling alone, of course must take on all responsibilities that comes with traveling. If he can though he likes to join caravans and split the work - he'll hunt and usually take first guard if given the choice.
Town: He lives in a pseudo village with the entire “clan” somewhere in the Montana area. It is actually an old and large plantation converted into a mini town run by the family. With no official name to speak of, everyone simple refers to it as O'Connor's Kennel and Breeding Ranch.
Job: Conner helps his family rear Irish Wolfhound pups and train them for selling. He also helps his uncles grow tobacco and sells cigarettes for extra cash.
Pet: He (and his twin) got a pick of the liter and chose a red furred, male Irish wolfhound. He named his Flann, certain it'd be a great dog and listen to him. Flann is indeed a great hunting dog, but he rarely listens to simple commands from Conner. Flann is Conner's second personal dog, his first has been retired from hunting and travel. Terrance now stays at home and is taken care of by their mother when the he is out.
Personality: Conner is very blunt, very protective and has one hell of a right hook that hurts like a bitch. In simple terms at least. Growing up in such a tight knit family he's of course grown very protective over everyone he loves. Unconsciousness is for the lucky ones. He also has the habit of saying what he means, no matter how blunt or rude. This often gets him slapped by ladies or into fights with men. He refrains from talking bad near his mother since the woman's glare is the least of his worries and her bark is far tamer than her bite. Like any man Conner likes to prove himself – something most the family doesn't care for as it gets him into trouble often. Fight clubs are his next favorite place, right behind bars/pubs. The occasional wrestling or sports match works just as well too.
Though the man seems to have no calm bone in his body, when at home or in camp he can actually be very mellow. Cigarette in mouth he often simply plays the fiddle to wind down (or sews small rips in clothes since it seems his hand is steadier than most). Upset in a way that borders on depressed is rare for him, though when it does show up it seems like nothing can help it. The most sure fire way to send him into a clammed up shell will be to hit him in the face after knowing the story of his missing eye, something he tells only those who are close to him. He sees it as a grand insult and violation of trust. The guy can hold grudges so it's best not to tread in those waters.
Strengths and Weaknesses: Conner is very good at a few things. Fighting, selling, being overprotective of his family, jumping to conclusions and being a drunken chain smoker. The last two of course work against him much of the time, but in a world where stress is on an all time high you need something a relax he doesn't see the harm.
Equipment/Weapons: Conner always carries on his person: several packs of cigarettes, a variety of matches and lighters, one canteen of whiskey, a small billy club, brass knuckles and two machine pistols with as much ammo as he can shove into his pants and packs. You know, just in case.
History: 28 years ago, 2 years after the bombs dropped, in Vault 13 a ginger boy (set of ginger twins?) was born. Conner came into the world, the bastard child of a traveling man all smiles and charm and libido. He grew up with a pack of cousins and a larger litter of Irish Wolfhound pups as the older family members went above to check the land and see if they were going to settle down above the vault or move away. It was decided on the latter and when he (the twins?) was barely 5 years old, the whole O'Connor clan packed up what was theirs in the vault, said goodbye to their friends and left Michigan for greener pastures.
The caravan traveled, trading a few dogs along the way until they finally decided on and settled into a large abandoned plantation somewhere in northern Montana. They built a town of of the mansion and the many small buildings, converting once cow and horse pens into places for their dogs, using parts of the fields for food (an in an uncles case, a small plot of tobacco). People came, looked, occasionally purchased a dog and moved on, sometime telling people they met along the way, but the slow business was not good so some of the older cousins and aunt and uncles started taking a litter out themselves to sell as they traveled.
Conner, being an adventurous one and a rebel, had instantly wanted to explore their new area. Without supervision. It took him a year or two to think up a plan to sneak away without getting caught. So he took one of his mom's dogs and ventured out into the dying sun, into the forest where his mother had specifically told him not to go. He had a great time exploring and trying to climb trees – that was, until he and the dog got attacked by some mutated animal. Had one of the uncles not been paying attention when counting the dogs he might have gotten off far worse than a mutilated eye and with a dead dog draped over his small body. The event changed him and he never went out alone again, and paid extra care to the dogs. He's still slightly terrified of forests after dark, even with his guns and the dogs.
So as he (they?) got older he (the twins?) started helping out. He started in the fields, until he eventually started taking the jaunts with his cousins to help with the dogs.
Eventually those short day or two jaunts as a young teen turned into full out sales travels, in the beginning mostly with caravans. It took longer since he waited for ones to travel most of his way with, but eventually he was able enough and trusted enough to go off and return on his own without others to guide him.
The one thing Conner doesn't like about all this traveling though is two things: One – the obvious danger to himself from the vandals and mutated creatures out there, and Two – the possibility of meeting either his father or any of his fellow bastard siblings. His entire family has talked down on the man since his birth and he doesn't want to cross paths with him. The siblings thing is just weird to him too....
Writing Sample: ((will fill in later, after italy app is done CAUSE I HAVE MOD POWERZ -shot-))
(( Woot~! Well, anyone who need relations - ie England, Sealand, Wales, Scotland, etc - just go ahead and either send me a PM or an AIM, either on my personal or on the ADMIN AIM and I'll answer as soon as I can for history and planning and such~!))