Post by Foster on May 25, 2015 16:33:12 GMT -5
Character Name: Victor Hodge
Nickname(s): Hodge
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 54
Birthplace: California (Exact location unknown)
Height: 6'2
Weight: 250 lbs.
Eye Color: Pale blue
Hair Color: Black, with salt-and-pepper-esque dustings here and there from age.
Hair Style: Cut short whenever it gets unmanageable, slightly ragged.
Facial Hair: A few dustings of gray stubble around his chin and lips, nothing much.
Skin Color: Caucasian, with a heavy tan.
Build: Bulky; full of dense, hardy muscle, the kind that remains in old age and never deteriorates to fat.
Distinguishing Features: Hodge's front tooth has been replaced with a gold replica, the original having been knocked out in a brawl. A few scars are etched along his torso, testament to the ineffectiveness of knives and bullets to bring the old soldier down.
Profession: Mercenary, caravan guard, and former NCR military policeman.
Skills: Hodge
Training: A few years of formal NCR trooper training in small arms and close combat, which he passed with flying colors. Decades of firefights and drunken brawls have given Hodge a good sense of what it takes to bring someone down, and his venerable age for a warrior makes him a veritable vault of home-tried tricks and such, be it concocting medicine from desert plants, handloading ammo, to the crafting of basic explosives with rudimentary materials and a little know-how.
Other Abilities: Shrugging off pain for extended periods of time, thanks to old injuries. Hodge also fancies himself a damn good cook, after years of improvising with lackluster conditions and less-than-tasty ingredients.
Apparel: -An old leather duster, covered in pockets and zippered compartments for storage.
-Beneath this, a burlap shirt, sewn together by Hodge a few years back.
-Pale green cargo pants, with a leather belt, and tough, gum-soled boots.
-Hodge has a rag tied around his face, for protection from the desert air, along with some small, black-lensed goggles.
-His old MP helmet sits on his head, and, just like the old dog tags around his neck, stand testament to Hodge's days in the NCR.
-A golden wedding band on his finger, heavily tarnished. It's obviously been there for a long while.
Weaponry: -A large, rusty revolver, chambered for .357, with an oversized scope on its tarnished frame. Hodge bought it around a decade ago in some backwater hovel, and took a liking to the reliable thing quickly. It rests on the left side of his belt, for easy drawing access.
-Inside his duster, Hodge keeps a cut-down cattle prod, the kind given to MP troopers. Lacking the large batteries and the coil on average specimens, it easily fits inside of his coat, while still giving a painful, stunning shock to any hit by it.
Other Equipment: -Two stimpaks, in the breast pocket of his duster.
-A plastic canteen of cactus-water, strapped to his abdomen.
-A hip flask, filled to the brim with bootleg whiskey.
-A lunchbox, looped through some straps on the side of his duster, containing some prickly pear fruit, coyote steak, and a Fancy Lads snack cake.
Affiliation: Former NCR soldier.
Religious Belief: Agnostic
Sexual Preference: Straight
Relationship Status: Happily married for around twenty-five years.
Personality: A rough, tough, old-soldier type, angry at the NCR for his discharge, yet still faithfully devoted to keeping its opposers at bay. Has almost no sense of humor, and works hard, with few words to say. When it comes to violence, Hodge is accustomed to it, and barely bats an eye when he guns down raiders, slavers, and other such wasteland rabble these days. However, he'll only kill if there's a good reason. Hodge is liable to attempt to negotiate with or knock out other threats, or those who seem less.....deserving of death, to be blunt.
(Work in Progress! I'll finish this up soon. Backstory's gonna be a bit of a bitch, he's sure experienced a lot.)