Nessa "Éire" Sky

Character Name:
Nessa Sky
Nickname(s):
Éire (Pronounced Air-rah)
Race:
Human    
Sex:
Female
Age:
25
Birthplace:
Capital Wasteland


Height:
5'5''
Weight:
110lbs
Eye Color:
Blue-Green
Hair Color:
A mix between red and light brown.
Hair Style:
Varies on her mood. Her hair usually has random braids in it. Generally worn in a complicated manner.
Facial Hair:
N/A
Skin Color:
Caucasian
Build:
Toned and athletic.
Distinguishing Features:
A strikingly pretty face. Prominent features in front as well as behind. Nails as short as you can cut them. Despite living in the wastes, her hair keeps a noticeable shine.


Profession:
Mercenary, Professional Friend.
Skills:
Good with electronics, knows her way around explosives.
Training:
Was taught how to fight and survive from her older brother.
Other Abilities:
Can see the good in people. Unusually optimistic, even with a gun to her head.
Apparel:
A brown jacket with the sleeves usually rolled up. The left shoulder of the jacket has a spot on the shoulder where the color is less faded, as if a patch used to be sewn into it for some time. Tattered jeans, boots, and a scarf that she keeps wrapped around her neck that has seen better days.
Weaponry:
A 12 gauge sawed-off shotgun with a crude Celtic knot carved into the barrel. 
9mm pistol strapped to her right thigh.
Two combat knives strapped facing opposite directions on her lower back.
Other Equipment:
A backpack where she keeps all of her equipment, spare electrical parts, pieces to create toys that explode, and general nick nacks.
Nessa's most prized possession that she keeps in her bag. A really old, used black mask with a faded white skull on the face.


Affiliation:
N/A
Religious Belief:
N/A
Sexual Preference:
Is not sexually attracted to anyone.
Relationship Status:
Single.
Personality:
Nessa is, for the most part, a cool headed person, and at times can be very bubbly. But get her flared up and she will show you the Irish blood that courses deep down in her veins. Her softer side has caused many to live after encountering her older brother. She was always the voice of reason and had compassion, filling the emotions that her brother lacked. Because of her past she does not like being touched, even by people she knows. Those who have tried either walk away with severe head trauma or meet her shotgun. She highly dislikes girls that use their sex appeal to survive in the world, which is why she generally keeps her body well covered, especially her assets. Nessa also believes that there is no problem she comes across that cannot be solved with the use of high explosives.

Nessa used to travel with her family (a group of Irish immigrant descendants) that worked as merchants in the wasteland until she reached the young age of 18. Their caravan was ambushed by a group of bandits when they were on their way to Cantebury Commons. As the bandits killed off her family one by one, in the background she was being ruthlessly beaten and taken advantage of. She watched helplessly in pain, screaming as her family was murdered by the scum of the wastes.

For the next four years she was kept as a prisoner like a caged animal, and for those four years her families murderers did as they pleased with her. The days and nights blended together, as if her brain was doing everything it could to make it seem like time was ticking by faster. On one particular night, the bandits had made camp in the open near a food source they happened to find, the food source being a bountiful caravan that they had ambushed. The group ate and drank comfortably in the wreck of their freshly killed caravan and as some became more intoxicated, they began playing with the dead that were scattered around the camp.

Nessa was kept in her usual rusty cage this night. She sat in there, half naked, watching the flames of the campfire dance in front of her with the light flickering in her near emotionless eyes. A strange sound caught her attention, it came from her right side. The sound resembled that of a watermelon being dropped from a tall building. Nessa's head slowly rotated to the right, and there, still standing was one of the bandits, his head completely missing from his body, which then fell to its knees, then backwards onto its back, bloody pieces of what she could clearly identify as person littered the area around the body. Two seconds later a large boom could be heard. The remaining six bandits at the camp quickly scrambled together, and like the unintelligent apes they were they began shooting bullets off into random directions toward the darkness of night out of fear and confusion. Unfortunately they eventually met similar fates, spanning from their chests being blown open to their limbs going missing. As the final bandits body had fallen to the floor in a bloody heap, the last loud boom sounded, there had been seven in total.

She sat there, alone in the dark with nothing but the fires embers as a source of light for twenty minutes. She could hear faint footsteps off in the distance, out of instinct she did the only thing she could possibly do in that sort of a situation, and curled up into a ball, peering over her bruised kneecaps with her eyes. A figure made it's way into the camp, with what looked like a large rifle on it's back, and a knife drawn. What she found strange was that the figure was walking like they were having an afternoon stroll. In the dark Nessa could make out that the figure had the body that of a male, but that was about it.

The man had stopped in the middle of the camp with his back turned to the caged girl, looking around at the carnage at his feet as if examining his work. After making sure his victims were all dead and not clinging onto life, the man turned around. As he turned to face Nessa the moonlight illuminated his face, or rather what he was wearing. A well worn mask with a faded skull stained onto it where his face would be. His appearance caused her to tighten her balled form even more, and as he approached her cage, she pushed herself onto the back end of the prison. The man reached her cage, and eyed it for second, nonchalantly flipping the knife in his hand around by the use of his palm and fingers as he looked. The man hit the lock with the bottom of his knife, effectively breaking it away from the cage. After slowly swinging the cage door open, the masked man stood there in the moonlight with his left hand extended toward the balled up girl. The strangest sensation came over Nessa, this man freed her with what she believed was a random act of kindness, regardless of the method used. Nessa extended her bruised covered arm, putting her weak hand in his. The man gently wrapped his fingers around her small hand and carefully helped her out of the cage. He then knelt down, putting his right arm behind her legs and his left arm behind her back, effectively lifting her up. As he carried her off into the wastes, the man gently whispered, "I'll protect you."

Eventually, Nessa had lost her guardian as well. Spectre had taken a round to his chest during a raid on a fortress-like bandit camp. As he laid there unmoving, she did the only thing that she felt like she could do and removed his mask to keep it to remember. Upon seeing his face, she couldn't help but have tears well up in her eyes as she realized how striking of a resemblance his facial features were to hers. Everything in her past came flooding back to her, and it struck her that she never saw her older brothers body at the caravan massacre all of those years ago. With hysterical sobs she began punching his chest at the realization that it was her older brother that had been looking over her all this time. She forced herself to move when bullets began slamming into objects dangerously close to her, all the while gripping her brothers mask tightly in her hand as she ran with tears flooding down her face.

Her brothers body was never recovered.