Post by Blair Campbell on Apr 27, 2011 16:20:55 GMT -8
Edit: Argh I forgot to Kidnap the Sandy Claws.
OOC
Player Name: Kathryn
Player Age: 22
Instant Messengers: Wopkater on AIM, butterfly_wings_in_the_moonlight on Y!Messenger, and butterfly_wings_in_the_moonlight@yahoo.com on MSN
IC
Nation: Scotland
Name: Blair Campbell
Vault of Origin: Vault 13: Lansing, Michigan
Age: 29
DoB: 30 November
Sex: Female but often mistake for male
Height: 5’ 4”
Weight: 120 lbs
Appearance:
Red-haired and emerald eyed, Blair makes intimidation her style since she only stands at 5’4”. She likes wearing gold hoops in her ears while dressing in male clothing to aid the illusion that she’s a guy. Often has a tie around her neck despite the fact that it gets in the way when she works, and favors the colour blue for some reason or another. She also speaks with a slight Scottish-mountain accent from growing up in Asheville.
Caravan:N/A
Position in Caravan:N/A
Town: Asheville, NC
Job: Farmer/Jack-of-all Trades
Pet: None currently
Personality: Having discovered that the world doesn’t favor the sweet and helpless kind, Blair quickly grew from a sweet and seemingly helpless kid into a headstrong and surly young woman who doesn’t trust people as far as she can throw them. Perhaps for this reason, and the fact that guys seem to have it just a slight bit easier, she’s never bothered to correct anyone who misjudges her gender. A wanderer by heart, Blair has picked up a quite a few trades to survive out when she’s roaming the mountains and surrounding areas of her home in the Appalachian Mountains. She enjoys brewing her own home whisky, which inevitably tends to lead her into saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and having to fight her way out of whatever mess she’s stirred up this time.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Strengths:
-Determined
-good aim with a gun
-creative
-Survival knowledge
-Good Fighting Skills
-Intelligent/”Street Smarts”
Weaknesses:
-Cheap
-Headstrong
-Likes to get drunk
-Cynical/Resentful towards life
-Surly
-Rude
-Stubborn
-Distrustful
Equipment/Weapons: Two canteens (one with water, one with her homebrewed Whisky), a Ruger LC9 pistol, a bag of tools (ranging from a hammer and some nails to a set of wrenches), and a pack of smokes.
History: Born to Jack Campbell and Isla Campbell (nee O’Connor) eleven years after the bombs fell, Blair was barely a year old before she and her parents left the vault when the main body of the O’Connor clan decided to venture above ground to live again. Jack, however, felt his future was in his childhood home and broke away from the caravan of O’Connors to strike out southward with his wife and young daughter to the mountain city of Asheville, North Carolina. There he set his family up in a self-made cabin just outside the main city where he settled into the life of being a farmer.
Isla, when not helping with the farming life, often offered herself as a laundress and seamstress to help with the family’s needs. Unwilling to let their daughter go uneducated, Jack and Isla did their best to teach Blair as many “trades” as possible so she would have a bright future. With the few books that the two had between them, they taught their daughter to read, and fostered the growing curiosity their daughter seemed to have.
Sadly, their little utopia of a home life would shatter into a million pieces upon Jack’s death when his daughter was only 7. Unable to keep the farm running by herself, Isla eventually abandoned the home her husband had built and moved her daughter into town in hopes of possibly teaching her to be a proper lady of society. This proved to be impossible however as Blair began to wear her father’s old clothes when Isla attempted to give her daughter a nice dress. The struggle between mother and daughter would lead to Blair running away at the age of 12 to live on the streets for a while.
Dressed in a baggy flannel shirt and pants held on only by a belt, Blair’s life on the street proved to be an eye-opening experience for the girl. She often found herself peeking into shops that seemed to have taken a step back in time when the bombs struck, lending women an almost restrictive lifestyle that akin to the nineteenth century. Deciding, never wished to be looked down upon, Blair stopped correcting strangers on the street about her gender, and even began encouraging the misconception that she was a man.
When she turned 15, Blair joined up with a caravan that was heading back towards the vault in Michigan, just to say she had seen where she was born. To be an asset to the caravan, she quickly began proving useful as a handyman, fixing things that broke, and learning from anyone who was willing to teach a young ‘boy’ a few skill of this or that. Reaching the vault, she didn’t stop long; instead, she joined up with another caravan to wander the west for a bit before she returned back to Asheville.
Upon returning, Blair set herself back up in the cabin her father built, before adding her own touches to the place including a ‘backwoods’ distillery where she began making whisky through a process of trial and error. Here, she began selling the spirits as well as offering herself out for the odd jobs here and there for food.
Having grown up on her father’s tales of mythical creatures from various places, Blair sometimes thought she saw a spirit or fae among the trees and as a result sometimes leaves a bowl of milk by the tree line next to her fields.
Though she does wander off during the winter, Blair tends to stay at her farm during planting season. She sometimes debates of going off to find the relatives that her family parted company with, but often gets distracted by a job or a party she decides need to be crashed. Though she has a few friends, none of them know her true gender.
Writing Sample: It was the same old routine, rise before dawn, check the traps to see if any animals (mutated or not) had be caught that might be salvage able for meat, fix a quick bite to eat, then get onto tending the crop of barley. Some might think it boring, but Blair couldn’t find a reason to complain. Pulling a few weeds out of the ground near her crop, the young woman frowned as she saw someone moving up the narrow trail to her home.
Reaching for a large stick lying nearby, the young redhead strode towards where the land ‘officially’ became hers and stood, the sun making the worn flannel shirt stick to her back as sweat trickled down. “What are yoo doing on my path?” she yelled, voice rough and low. The figure stopped for a moment before they came closer. Annoyed at the lack of an answer, the stick was swung up in the air as she charged forward, all but knocking the person to the ground before she got a good look.
“Ach, damnit Josiah, how many times do I haveta tell ya that yoo donnae come wandering up my path without stating your name and your damn business around here,” she growled at the man though she reached down to pull help him off the ground. Grinning, the man accepted the hand.
“I came to see if you were up to a bit of hard labor, maybe like, I don’t know, working on my car?” Josiah chuckled, still gripping her hand before she jerked it away and debated giving him another whack with the stick. Grunting, she turned her back and started back up the path.
“Yoo still haven’t fulfilled your end of the bargain from the last time I worked on that pile of gears and motors you call a car,” she stated, not bothering to check and see if the man was still walking towards her farm. “Yoo find that thing of scotch and a good book and maybe I’ll look at your car and see if I can make it run for ye.” Stabbing the stick into the ground, she ignored the man standing at the entrance to the clearing and went back to work pulling out the weeds that were insisting on attempting to ruin her barley crop.
“What if I pay you double?” came the quiet reply as Josiah watched his friend work, back bent and calloused fingers pulling at stubborn weeds. “Two books and two bottles of scotch, for the last time and this time.” He waited as the man paused, seeming to consider his offer before nodding.
“Alright, but ye better be good on your word this time,” she grunted as she grabbed the stick and used it to pull herself back to her feet. “So, let’s go look at this bucket of bolts then.”
OOC
Player Name: Kathryn
Player Age: 22
Instant Messengers: Wopkater on AIM, butterfly_wings_in_the_moonlight on Y!Messenger, and butterfly_wings_in_the_moonlight@yahoo.com on MSN
IC
Nation: Scotland
Name: Blair Campbell
Vault of Origin: Vault 13: Lansing, Michigan
Age: 29
DoB: 30 November
Sex: Female but often mistake for male
Height: 5’ 4”
Weight: 120 lbs
Appearance:
Red-haired and emerald eyed, Blair makes intimidation her style since she only stands at 5’4”. She likes wearing gold hoops in her ears while dressing in male clothing to aid the illusion that she’s a guy. Often has a tie around her neck despite the fact that it gets in the way when she works, and favors the colour blue for some reason or another. She also speaks with a slight Scottish-mountain accent from growing up in Asheville.
Caravan:N/A
Position in Caravan:N/A
Town: Asheville, NC
Job: Farmer/Jack-of-all Trades
Pet: None currently
Personality: Having discovered that the world doesn’t favor the sweet and helpless kind, Blair quickly grew from a sweet and seemingly helpless kid into a headstrong and surly young woman who doesn’t trust people as far as she can throw them. Perhaps for this reason, and the fact that guys seem to have it just a slight bit easier, she’s never bothered to correct anyone who misjudges her gender. A wanderer by heart, Blair has picked up a quite a few trades to survive out when she’s roaming the mountains and surrounding areas of her home in the Appalachian Mountains. She enjoys brewing her own home whisky, which inevitably tends to lead her into saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and having to fight her way out of whatever mess she’s stirred up this time.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Strengths:
-Determined
-good aim with a gun
-creative
-Survival knowledge
-Good Fighting Skills
-Intelligent/”Street Smarts”
Weaknesses:
-Cheap
-Headstrong
-Likes to get drunk
-Cynical/Resentful towards life
-Surly
-Rude
-Stubborn
-Distrustful
Equipment/Weapons: Two canteens (one with water, one with her homebrewed Whisky), a Ruger LC9 pistol, a bag of tools (ranging from a hammer and some nails to a set of wrenches), and a pack of smokes.
History: Born to Jack Campbell and Isla Campbell (nee O’Connor) eleven years after the bombs fell, Blair was barely a year old before she and her parents left the vault when the main body of the O’Connor clan decided to venture above ground to live again. Jack, however, felt his future was in his childhood home and broke away from the caravan of O’Connors to strike out southward with his wife and young daughter to the mountain city of Asheville, North Carolina. There he set his family up in a self-made cabin just outside the main city where he settled into the life of being a farmer.
Isla, when not helping with the farming life, often offered herself as a laundress and seamstress to help with the family’s needs. Unwilling to let their daughter go uneducated, Jack and Isla did their best to teach Blair as many “trades” as possible so she would have a bright future. With the few books that the two had between them, they taught their daughter to read, and fostered the growing curiosity their daughter seemed to have.
Sadly, their little utopia of a home life would shatter into a million pieces upon Jack’s death when his daughter was only 7. Unable to keep the farm running by herself, Isla eventually abandoned the home her husband had built and moved her daughter into town in hopes of possibly teaching her to be a proper lady of society. This proved to be impossible however as Blair began to wear her father’s old clothes when Isla attempted to give her daughter a nice dress. The struggle between mother and daughter would lead to Blair running away at the age of 12 to live on the streets for a while.
Dressed in a baggy flannel shirt and pants held on only by a belt, Blair’s life on the street proved to be an eye-opening experience for the girl. She often found herself peeking into shops that seemed to have taken a step back in time when the bombs struck, lending women an almost restrictive lifestyle that akin to the nineteenth century. Deciding, never wished to be looked down upon, Blair stopped correcting strangers on the street about her gender, and even began encouraging the misconception that she was a man.
When she turned 15, Blair joined up with a caravan that was heading back towards the vault in Michigan, just to say she had seen where she was born. To be an asset to the caravan, she quickly began proving useful as a handyman, fixing things that broke, and learning from anyone who was willing to teach a young ‘boy’ a few skill of this or that. Reaching the vault, she didn’t stop long; instead, she joined up with another caravan to wander the west for a bit before she returned back to Asheville.
Upon returning, Blair set herself back up in the cabin her father built, before adding her own touches to the place including a ‘backwoods’ distillery where she began making whisky through a process of trial and error. Here, she began selling the spirits as well as offering herself out for the odd jobs here and there for food.
Having grown up on her father’s tales of mythical creatures from various places, Blair sometimes thought she saw a spirit or fae among the trees and as a result sometimes leaves a bowl of milk by the tree line next to her fields.
Though she does wander off during the winter, Blair tends to stay at her farm during planting season. She sometimes debates of going off to find the relatives that her family parted company with, but often gets distracted by a job or a party she decides need to be crashed. Though she has a few friends, none of them know her true gender.
Writing Sample: It was the same old routine, rise before dawn, check the traps to see if any animals (mutated or not) had be caught that might be salvage able for meat, fix a quick bite to eat, then get onto tending the crop of barley. Some might think it boring, but Blair couldn’t find a reason to complain. Pulling a few weeds out of the ground near her crop, the young woman frowned as she saw someone moving up the narrow trail to her home.
Reaching for a large stick lying nearby, the young redhead strode towards where the land ‘officially’ became hers and stood, the sun making the worn flannel shirt stick to her back as sweat trickled down. “What are yoo doing on my path?” she yelled, voice rough and low. The figure stopped for a moment before they came closer. Annoyed at the lack of an answer, the stick was swung up in the air as she charged forward, all but knocking the person to the ground before she got a good look.
“Ach, damnit Josiah, how many times do I haveta tell ya that yoo donnae come wandering up my path without stating your name and your damn business around here,” she growled at the man though she reached down to pull help him off the ground. Grinning, the man accepted the hand.
“I came to see if you were up to a bit of hard labor, maybe like, I don’t know, working on my car?” Josiah chuckled, still gripping her hand before she jerked it away and debated giving him another whack with the stick. Grunting, she turned her back and started back up the path.
“Yoo still haven’t fulfilled your end of the bargain from the last time I worked on that pile of gears and motors you call a car,” she stated, not bothering to check and see if the man was still walking towards her farm. “Yoo find that thing of scotch and a good book and maybe I’ll look at your car and see if I can make it run for ye.” Stabbing the stick into the ground, she ignored the man standing at the entrance to the clearing and went back to work pulling out the weeds that were insisting on attempting to ruin her barley crop.
“What if I pay you double?” came the quiet reply as Josiah watched his friend work, back bent and calloused fingers pulling at stubborn weeds. “Two books and two bottles of scotch, for the last time and this time.” He waited as the man paused, seeming to consider his offer before nodding.
“Alright, but ye better be good on your word this time,” she grunted as she grabbed the stick and used it to pull herself back to her feet. “So, let’s go look at this bucket of bolts then.”
