Rachel Crenshaw

Character Name:
Rachel Crenshaw


Nickname(s):
N/A


Race:
Human


Sex:
Female


Age:
26


Birthplace:
New California Republic road






Height:
5'8"


Weight:
140 lbs


Eye Color:
Brown

Hair Color:
Red


Hair Style:
Neck-length loose


Facial Hair:
N/A


Skin Color:
White


Build:
Athletic


Distinguishing Features:
 
--Tattoos: Rose and thorns on her hip (pictured) which continue to wind down her leg to the calf; leaf on her arm (pictured); A sheriff's star dripping blood spanning a large portion of her back; a crow on her left breast.
--A fair number of scars including some old track marks






Profession:
Mercenary


Skills:

--Firearms
--Hand-to-hand
--Survival


Training:
Home teaching, time spent with raiders


Other Abilities:

--She's very good at mimicking, spotting, or otherwise dealing with raiders.
--Spent time as a prostitute so has those skills


Apparel:
Assorted variations on pictured clothing; secondary apparel: leather 'armor'/jumpsuit with duster.


Weaponry:
Hunting rifle, Hunting shotgun with shortened barrel and pistol grip (pictured), .357 Colt pistol, 


Other Equipment:
Assorted survival equipment and supplies, backpack, bandolier and ammo belt, tattooing equipment, spare parts for weapons, ammo casting dyes (not the whole reloading kit, just the dyes).






Affiliation:
Nothing substantial.  On okay terms with a few caravan companies.  Mildly dislikes the NCR but hates Caesar's Legion far more


Religious Belief:
Animistic quasi-agnostic


Sexual Preference:
Heterosexual


Relationship Status:
Single


Personality:
At first glance, Rachel tends to seem a very harsh person; she's gruff, confident, somewhat sassy, and sly under certain circumstances.  She isn't what one would call promiscuous, but she isn't tight with her sexuality either and generally views it as recreational rather than something romantic.  In cases of minor conflicts such as brawls she will usually keep her head down unless bodily dragged into it--but when she does get involved she usually goes straight for dirty tricks to try and end it as quickly as possible.  To those who don't know her, they will fairly assume that she is out to only care for herself, but while she is selfish she does have a better-natured side to her.  While she never quite gets to being soft or gentle, she does have a compassionate side and will usually do what she can to help people in dire need, especially with raider problems.  On that subject, she hates raiders, a bit hypocritical of her perhaps but she will spend weeks of time if it means slowly whittling down a raider group.  She's willing to forgive long-past crimes, but she will not forgive present ones, not for moral reasons but out of practicality--a murderer from ten years past is less likely to kill you than one from last week.  There's an addictive side to her, and while she's laid off the drugs she does suffer from risk of relapse and relies a bit on alcohol to satisfy that side of her mind.  She also seems to have a spiritual side, not as in the idea of religion but she likes to stop and listen to the 'auras' of any ruins she enters.  She's fascinated by the decay and rebirth of humanity and has a bookish side to her where she will read books on the road which will seem far different from the mentality she shows otherwise.






Rachel was born on the road, he parents both caravaners who decided to 'keep each other warm' one winter passing through the desert.  The first town she ever saw was Primm, but she spent most of her growing up in a tiny town in the Santa Ana valley.  Her first twelve years of life were fairly simple, her mother opting to stay in town raising both Rachel and--later--her half-brother while their fathers went off on the caravans making money for them.  She learned all of the basics of survival, from shooting a gun to how to tend to brahmin to making crude healing tonics from the wild.  Perhaps fortunately, she never spent a lot of time near cities, and the few she did visit were ramshackle affairs like her own and she just generally thought that all of humanity lived in such things.  The NCR was a background detail to her, her mother describing them as thugs to keep them safe until they stopped paying them, but they always seemed nice at the time.  Life wasn't easy, but it was perfectly good by Wasteland standard.

And then one night when she was twelve she was out tending the herds when she found fires coming from home; by the time she arrived the entire place was ablaze and there were people in bizarre outfits firing wildly at those few survivors.  These were an average-sized group of bandits called the 'Blood Rangers,' most of them former NCR soldiers who decided that since they had the weapons they might as well earn their own money.  Surprisingly they did not kill Rachel when they found her, though it wasn't for any humane reason, but rather because they decided that they wanted a slave.  For four years she was used and abused by the raiders, forced to do whatever passed through their foul minds, and she obliged.  But at the same time, she learned from them, she observed them closely and taught herself everything she could to be one of them... and when she was given the option of beating one of them to death she found herself oddly happy to oblige.  She gained a taste for the violence, and she eventually decided that she wanted to properly join the gang as a member, a right which she pummeled another member to paste for the right to do.  For a several years she acted as one with the horde, murdering everyone she could for cash, getting plenty of tattoos to decorate herself, doing all kinds of drugs, and more than happy to visit on others the same pain she experienced.  It wasn't until one night when their group raided a town and she found a young boy and his mother in a house that she saw what she'd been doing... in that boy's eyes she saw herself.  She disappeared that night, and saw to it that the two found safety.

While she tried with all her might to become a regular member of society once more, she found her efforts stymied by her addiction to jet, and would wind up taking out several loans from a wealthy individual in New Vegas to pay it off.  In the end her debt found herself forced to act as a prostitute in Gomorrah, something which she found reminiscent of her time with the raiders but... well... at least she was getting paid for it.  Eventually she was able to "acquire" enough funds to pay her debt, and just in time for the casino to implode in on itself with infighting.  None of her business though.  As frustrating as the time had been though, she came to understand the political realities of the land, especially cities like New Vegas.  She understood that humanity as a whole was evil, and while there were individuals within it which were good, she knew that there was little to do for humans as a whole to change that.  It was a strange realization, but it was something which helped her justify her actions in the past and that there was only one thing she could do now that she had done them: use the skill she acquired in a more beneficial manner.

Since her release two years ago she's been traveling NCR territory as a gun for hire, especially as a caravan guard.  For the most part she's loved her job, in particular whenever she got close to ruins.  She's had a hard time reintegrating into society properly and made her occasional moments of regression into some of her old habits, but she's more or less been improving.  Of particular note she joined a group of mercenaries sent in to wipe out her old raider group, and while she doesn't talk about it and found it painful in some ways, it helped seal her mind off from the possibility of returning to her old life.  She's comfortable with her new life, and enjoys the occasions when she delivers some wasteland justice--not to mention finds it pleasant to be paid in the process.