Post by Grixx on Mar 28, 2015 9:26:52 GMT -5
Name: Declan McBride
Nickname: Clover
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 24
Birthplace: New Dublin (outside Boston)
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 140lbs
Eye Color: Grey
Hair Color: Brown
Hair Style: Short and shaggy, pushed up in the front
Facial Hair: Shaven
Skin Color: White
Build: Skinny
Distinguishing Features: Missing left eye (covered by a patch with a clover on it)
Profession: Saboteur - Demolitions and firearms expert
Skills: Highly adept at making almost anything into something that goes "boom". Knows almost every firearm out in the wastes (having made one or two himself)
Training: Bomb Tech and Weapons Reverse Engineering/Repair
Other Abilities: Declan is a good lair and good gambler. Often times these "abilities" grant him one more...he's very good at finding his way into trouble. He's also a tinkerer, often using scrap and other objects to come up with "inventions".
Apparel: Declan wears combat boots, cargo fatigues and a white t-shirt. Over his shirt he wears an old leather jacket that he's patched up a few times with duct tape and other strips of cloth or leather.
Weapons: M1 Garand with an engraving of a woman on the side nicknamed "Banshee", and a machete with a serrated back
Other Equipment: Set of tools in a small travel case, a deck of cards with a clover on the backings, and a pack of cigarettes
Affiliation: N/A
Religion: Luck
Sexual Preference: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Witty and always talking. Declan has a big mouth and short Irish temper. He always will try to lighten the mood and make a joke but if he is personally offended nothing can calm him down but "...puttin' that fekkin' piece of shite on 'is arse!"
History:
Declan was born in the outskirts of the city of Boston in an area known as New Dublin. Never knowing his father, Declan grew up with his sickly mother. In this part of town it was hard to survive, and even harder for a kid. At about 10 years old, Declan's mother passed away and he did the only thing he could, joined up with the local gang known as the Provosts headed by the self proclaimed "Marshal". They began as security and safety as for the people in this part of the city. It soon turned into full fledged mafia, collecting debts and keeping the people in line. Declan started as a package boy, running parcels across town from one gang head to the next. It wasn't pretty but it brought in food for him.
After a few years of running parcels, Declan was ready to move up. The Marshal wanted to speak to him personally. This was the first time Declan had met the man, he was old and thin, he wore a ratty old green suit and carried a small clubbed cane. He sat behind a large wooden desk on the top floor of the Provost's main building which had at one time been the municipal building of the old world. Today, Declan was to deliver a special package to someone who had betrayed the Provosts. Knowing what was going to happen, Declan agreed and took the package.
The target was a bean counter who had been stealing caps where he thought no one would notice in order to pay for his favorite slut. When the Marshal caught wind, he decided the bean counter would be made an example of and that Declan should do it. The job was simple enough, a fifteen year old kid running a package to a personal home was no big deal in New Dublin, no one was the wiser. Declan left the package and counted down the time. Click...BOOM. It was like nothing he had ever seen before. The shock wave shook the ground and the house was in flames, it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
Declan made it his goal to learn how to create such a beautiful site. Taking the caps he'd earned from his job, he sought out the one who put the bomb together. Her name was Banshee. She worked a gun store that the Provosts used to supply their enforcers with weapons. Over the next few years Declan worked with Banshee to create all sorts of guns and explosives for the Provosts. She quickly became like an older sister to him, giving him a family he never had. He worked to expand his knowledge, Declan became an expert on anything he could make explode.
When Declan turned 21, Banshee revealed something to him. She had been working over the years to build up enough people to take New Dublin away from the Provosts and free the people of the dept. Trusting her, Declan agreed to help looking forward to putting his skills to use. The target was the municipal building and the Marshal himself. Banshee had amassed a group of people who were willing to fight to liberate their town. The plan was to detonate the load bearing pillars of the building and bring the whole thing down from the inside. The problem was getting in. A group of militia was going to storm the front and fight their way in, meanwhile, Declan and Banshee were going to use the sewer system to come in through the sub basement. On the night before the raid, Banshee gave Declan something she'd been working on. A M1 Garand with an engraving of a woman on it. She said it would bring him luck.
The raid began, and Declan and Banshee set off through the sewers. The sounds of gunfire and fighting could be heard while they made their way through. They reached the sub basement and like they had planned, every one was up fighting the militia. Finding the load bearing columns they set to work. All but one charge was set. Banshee was busy on it when she yelled for Declan to run. The primer on it had malfunctioned and the count down started. It was already too late, the charge detonated incinerating Banshee and sending a piece of shrapnel into Declan's eye. With no other choice, Declan ran. The subsequent charges were about to blow now too and he was out of time.
He made back out, to see the plan had at least worked. Thunderous booming gave way to the falling of the municipal building, and the death of the Marshal. Luck favored Declan to survive, but not Banshee. Mourning the loss of his friend, Declan did the only thing he knew to honor her memory and that was to name his rifle after her. With the town of New Dublin freed and everything Declan had ever known destroyed, he set out into the wastes. For three years he traveled the coast doing whatever demolition work came his way, earning the name Clover because of the clover on his eye patch. He now works as a mercenary for hire, doing almost any job with a big risk and bigger boom.
