Post by Orion Adair on Nov 3, 2015 23:38:37 GMT
Orion Gabriel Adair
FACE CLAIM: Andrej Pejic
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AGE: 26
GENDER: Male
ORIENTATION: Bisexual
GROUP: Bast
POSITION: ScoutLOOK INTO THE MIRROR...
what do you see?
HEIGHT: 5'5
HAIR COLOR: Blond
EYE COLOR: Green
MISC: Everyone these days has scars, Orion is just lucky enough that his aren’t nearly as bad as some others. The worst are old burns on his mid back. Escaping some infected he slid across exposed metal that was hot enough to burn where it touched skin. As far as how he dresses, in general he covers up when out and about so as not to suffer heat stroke and horrible sunburns but he’s not very picky.LISTEN TO YOUR VOICE...
what does it say?
PERSONALITY: First and most importantly, what everyone needs to remember when dealing with Orion, is that he is ruthless. He is willing to do nearly anything to get whatever it is that he wants at that particular time. There’s very little that is off limits. The one thing that seems to be crossing the line every time is his sister. Not because of some deep rooted connection to family, though don’t make the mistake that he doesn’t love her in his own way. Basically his sister is the one person he has so endeared to him that losing her better gain him a hell of a lot. He scales the costs and gains of everything and better come out in the black.
Self-serving is the tip of the iceberg here. If he doesn’t like someone, he is willing to take certain loses to cause that person pain. Nothing extreme. He’s not about to hack off an arm to make someone have a crappy day, but he is willing to bypass a stash of goods if it means someone he hates is going to end up in the midst of the doomed. That’s the sort of impact he usually has when it comes to harming others. Dirty backstabbing blows that usually don’t come from his own hand. Usually, because he is rather deadly with a crossbow and is very willing to shoot first, ask questions never. His skin is on the line daily and some stranger in the Scorch is hardly worth a scratch on his head.
That said, while he can be rather violent, that’s not his every day appearance. He smiles sweetly to your face eighty percent of the time. Orion uses his appearance more often than force. It usually gets him better results. His sister seems a lot more harsh then he is generally, which is what gives him the opportunity to get at the pulse of what drives others. He reads people fairly well and comes across as sweet and unassuming, at least until he opens him mouth. He has a very bad habit of reverting back to blunt and callous words. Out in the endless miles of death that is the Scorch, softness can get you killed. So his pleasant shell is riddled with dents and holes that he is trying to flesh out into the pretty unassuming image he wants.
What he wants is more of an entire world then a certain thing. Obviously, he’d like to not have to worry about the rot, though given some of the situations he’s fallen into, he suspects he may be immune. He’s not taking chances on suspicion. Having one item or gaining love or something else equally vague isn’t going to make or break him. He’s actually rather greedy in that he’s never really satisfied. Generally, if he does get something, it won’t take long before he’s decided it’s not as great as he expected and he ditches it. In reality the young man doesn’t really know what he wants, or if it even exists anymore.
SECRET(S): Despite his cocky self-assured attitude about sex, he’s still very much a virgin and what not even his sister knows, he’s rather nervous about the idea of that status changing.
Orion believes he may have some sort of metal disorder after having found a book of them when he was young. He thinks it’s a form of sociopathy due to the lack of conscience he feels towards nearly everyone.WE ALL HAVE A STORY...
what's yours?
WORTHY MENTIONS: Sister
HISTORY: Orion was born as a middle child in the middle of nowhere. His older brother was too young but tried hard to be an adult. The boy took on small responsibilities like they were world changing events. His mother died bringing his younger sister into the world three years later. She was as rough as any boy had any right to be. Fierce and wild. Their world was migratory. They wandered from place to place whenever the neighbors became too rowdy. Scavengers, he later understood. They were a family merely trying to survive without causing any trouble.
His father caught the rot. The man at least had the courage to chase off his children rather than letting them stay to become infected or killed under his irrationality. Orion was ten. His brother was thirteen and his sister only eight. They knew how to find food and water, stay away from the more aggressive groups. They could survive. That was all that really stuck with Orion. It was always about survival. Comfort was negligible, pleasure was fleeting and safety was never guaranteed unless you took it. They lived like that, hiding under whatever rocks they could find, for four years. He picked up whatever was needed for survival and abandoned everything else. What good were photos and mementos if you were dead?
Orion carried food and water, a first aid kit they had hodgepodge together and a crossbow he salvaged from what looked to be an old sporting goods store. The disappointment that there were no guns was short lived in the small family when he found there wasn’t any ammo and they weren’t likely to find more anyway. He could however find all the bolts he could ask for and they were reusable if he was careful. Overall it had been a win. At least until they started leaving the ruins of the small town.
It had been a gamble going to the town where there was clear signs of recent activity. They made it in with little issue. Hadn’t seen a soul. On the way out they were spotted by a gang of bandits who had taken up temporary residence there. What they wanted from the group of kids ranged depending on which one you listened to. They didn’t seem to be very cohesive. He heard one voice talk about what it would do to his sister which was very different from the voice that said they should gut and hang them. It was most definitely his need to not lose the few things he called his that escalated the encounter. He calmly lifted the crossbow and fired a bolt at the first person who reached for him. Said bolt stuck firm in the woman’s throat and she dropped like a wet bag.
From there he couldn’t track everything that happened. There was screaming, hitting, and he swears after the fact that he’d heard a gunshot but can’t figure out why, if he had, these people hadn’t shot them. Orion and his sister made it out of the town. His brother didn’t. They had ended up dragging him out only to find, when they finally stopped that they were dragging a dead body. He also swears that his brother had been alive when he’d first grabbed him by the forearm. There was nothing for it. His sister insisted they bury him. Despite thinking that it didn’t matter anyway, Orion helped her find a spot marked by a large rock and dug a pit where they buried their brother.
He honestly can’t think of anything after that worth mentioning. They lived. It wasn’t grand, but they were alive. He could hunt down what meager living things they came across now and got very good with the crossbow but most of their food still came from scavenging. Recently, they came across an honest to god settlement. He was skeptical when they were found by some scouts but once they were at this so called city it was rather contagious. He was still weary, but it felt nice to be able to actually relax. Orion ended up ‘auditioning’ for the Bast by more or less showing what an ass he could be. A dozen cheap shots later he ended by saying “and that’s how I lived 26 years in the wasteland.” There is something to be said for results regardless of the means.BEHIND THE MASK...
who are you really?
SAMPLE: Orion shifted through the abandoned remnants of some forgotten life with the toe of his boot. A boot he’d had to replace around a month ago he’d guess. It was hard to keep track of days let alone years out in the middle of the hell hole that had become Earth but he figured they did an alright job of it. This place was half buried under the sand and looks to have been picked clean rather thoroughly. No food anyway.
He shifted the rucksack slung over his shoulder as he rutted through the remains of junk. He found a box of records in a closet. Who the hell had records? He had half a mind to dig out the player that he assumed had to be somewhere around and see if it still worked. Probably not. Probably ran on power. He thought he’d seen images of record players you had to hand crank. Better not find it. His sister would want to tote that around too. He paused to listen but only heard the wind against the sand. It was the tail end of a rather nasty storm they’d been skirting for the past few days and he wished it had brought rain. The sound of rain was rare but he could listen to it for days on end. Even if it was mostly toxic and acidic. A scream broke through the wind. A scream he knew well enough.
He lunged at the broken window he’d crawled in through and dropped the bag in the sand as he ran for the sounds of yelling, crossbow in hand and already slipping a bolt out of his self-fashioned bag slung around his waist. He came up over the mound of sand and slid feet first down the other side, taking the time to fit the bolt in and yank it to set. At the bottom of a wave of sand, his sister was threatening a man with a metal bet. From the way he was holding his arm, she’d got a good swing in before he gave her a wide berth. Orion raised the bow and squeezed the trigger before he’d even gotten down to them. The man’s body lurched and dropped into the sand. Without as much as a second glance he was over to his sister’s side. “What did he do? What happened?”
‘He startled me. I think he was sleeping here.’ She was shaking with adrenalin and he saw no blood. “Jesus. Give me a heart attack.” He muttered, letting the arm with the bow drop down by his leg. Orion stomped over to where the man lay still, kicking sand because there was no use letting out the rush of irritation on his sister. He grabbed hold of the end of his bolt and tugged it free, one foot on the man’s chest when it didn’t come loose right away. It came free with a groan that caused him pause but when the man only rolled over coughing he turned back. “My bag’s up the hill. There’s nothing else, let’s get out before it gets dark.”
USERNAME: Pyry
AGE GROUP: 27
EXPERIENCE: Too long. Probably round about 15 years now.
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