Post by Endicott on Jun 25, 2015 19:41:21 GMT -5
Character Name: Vassili Antonio Kosslov
Nickname(s): Antoni, Toni, Vass
Race: Ghoul; Caucasian-Hispanic
Sex: Male
Age: 249
Birthplace: Phoenix, Arizona
Height: 5'10
Weight: 182lb
Eye Color: Although it'd difficult to see under the layer of sky blue-ish film, they're green
Hair Color: What remains is either bleached white or singed black
Hair Style: Various tufts scattered across scalp.
Facial Hair: None
Skin Color: Quite pale, more noticeably than others
Build: Limber but without much muscle mass, making him more agile than strong, though not without strength
Distinguishing Features: Odd mixture of Russian and Cuban in his accent, Missing lower right leg, Extremely pale bleached skin, Seems to smell oddly like vodka, Ghoulification
Profession: Merchant, Part-Time Mercenary, Scavenger, Occasional Hunter, Tinkerer
Skills:
Barter, masterful
Energy Weapons, moderate
Repair, masterful
Training: Prior to the war, Antoni had never received much training, though he was a Deans Electronics Monthly enthusiast (much to the dismay of his family). Most of his "training" occurred post-war, due to him being able to adapt to the situation accordingly and being put into situations where these skills were necessary for living.
Other Abilities: Aside from basic cooking skills and other miscellaneous skills, none.
Apparel: Antoni wears a set of extremely rustic looking clothing, consisting of: A rugged beige overcoat with various pockets, a pair of extensively maintained brown cargo pants, a large grey hiking boot on his left leg, a makeshift-but-effective metal pole put in space of his missing lower right leg (made of pieces of crutches, duct tape and a knee guard taken from some combat armour), a scratchy-looking red scarf, a white undershirt, a light combat vest, a large military-issue backpack, a useful utility belt (off of which dangles several satchel pockets, microfusion cells, a blood pack, an old pocket watch, a comb and several other display items for show) and last but not least, a malfunctioning Pip-Boy 3000 (the screen is cracked and it glitches on several screens).
Weaponry: An old Enclave plasma rifle (Winchester P94 Military Model Plasma Rifle), scavenged from a NCR-Enclave battlefield. Aside from this, he may use his crowbar if in danger, though it is mainly for cracking stuff open.
Other Equipment: Microfusion Cells (60 approx.), A large assortment of merchandise (ranging from jet to 10mm pistols, the list is too long to mention and it varies considerably with each scavenging run), Dirty Water Flask, Several MREs, Crowbar, Comb, Pocket-Watch, Pip-Boy 3000, Small Aerial from an Eyeboy
Affiliation: L.A. Boneyard, Shady Sands, Vault City, Jacobstown, Redding, Klamath, The Hub, Junktown, Freeside, New Vegas, Novac, Boulder City, Goodsprings, Primm, NCRCF and any other settlements in the California-Nevada area.
Religious Belief: Agnostic
Sexual Preference: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Antoni is a calm, collected man with a sense of humour and optimism; he'd rather laugh in the face of death than cry in fear at it. While slightly cynical, he has hopes for the wasteland now the NCR are dealing with the dangers of the wasteland, despite the fact they dislike ghouls. Pride and courage are one of his biggest strengths and weaknesses, as it has cost him quite a lot in the past. The wasteland has made him pragmatic, but not utilitarian. Losing so much and having lived so long have made him wise and experienced, but at the same time slightly depressed, though that's nothing a bottle of vodka or two can't fix.
Vassili Antonio Kosslov was born to Cuban-Russian immigrants living in the state of Arizona, and as a result grew up much worse off than others, due to his status as a foreigner and his parents inability to get a job easily. But, it didn't matter to him; America was a world of wonder, compared to the tales his father told him of the frozen wasteland of Russia and how his mother described the Cuban regime. It was a land of free men, free men open to opportunity... surely. In truth, this wasn't the case; it was a xenophobic industrialists' paradise, and no man was free in America, but the silver screens and glossy posters said it was, so it must've been!
As Vass grew up, it became clear life was going to be hard for him. Jobs were hard to come by due to the red scare and the economic depression, and his first job was working in a a factory with little to no regards to safety. Crime seemed like it could be a good option, and many of his immigrant friends did turn to this line of work, but it just didn't suit Vass, and so he was stuck in hundreds of dead end jobs that would've lead others to commit suicide from a balcony. It was a tough life, and a boring one. Eventually, he settled down and had a family with an American wife, which raised his spirits quite a lot, and eventually they had four children, all of whom sprouted nicely. Vass was a caring father, and an interactive one, though he could bore his children to tears sometimes with his electronics and radiology hobbies... but, all in all, he was a pretty smart and funny father.
Life seemed like it was going fine for Vass, despite the fact it didn't felt like he had ever really lived at all during, around the times the bombs fell. His family sheltered themselves in a sewer waystation, and attempted to survive the nuclear winter. But, they all succumbed to radiation in one way or another; Vass began his ghoulification process and his family became so sick he had to pump them full of Med-X to make their deaths painless. It was a depressing time which lead him almost to suicide, or euthanasia, but there was no way he'd ever take himself out, and with no-one else to do it for him he had no choice but to carry on surviving. The sores were distressing, and the necrosis terrifying, but it became familiar after a few years of wandering what remained of Phoenix; it's dusty roads and blazing sun nostalgic even post-war. The marred tone of the town became too much after a while however, and he made a trip towards Los Angeles, in hope of finding some kind of survivors.
The trip was long, difficult and arduous. The wastelands were harsh places, and he had to do things he didn't want to in order to survive... killing people and sometimes eating them for sustenance, if scavenging didn't prove fruitful. On that note, scavenging became almost addictive to him; he could explore areas humans couldn't, and could grab all the nifty loot they couldn't. During his journey, he collected a large amount of items and by the time he reached L.A. was he a walking pile of loot. This proved to be dangerous, as raiders and marauders could kill him and just steal it all, but when bottle caps became currency, he began to use his scavenging skills to amass loot to sell to various wastelanders. This made his life somewhat comfortable for a while, and he practically picked the Californian ruins clean of interesting loot over the course of several decades, finding an old Pip-Boy 3000 in a mansion up in the ruins of Hollywood (though it was slightly damaged).
Eventually, human settlements sprung up all over the place, and trading became easier. Towns became more advanced, but again he was an outcast, an unwelcome "race" in the society of the United Wastes of Former America. Nevertheless, he conned people out of money and gave them fair deals, depending on what he required to make a living. During the NCR-Enclave war, he began selling the parts from deceased Enclave members (at least, the parts the NCR never retrieved) and it seemed the war was fuelling his business, and he was able to buy himself permanent rooms in most main towns, which was a godsend for a traveller like him. The NCR-Brotherhood war was as fruitful in terms of profit, as Brotherhood gear sold for a high price to fellow scavengers and experts across the wasteland and the mass of conventional weapons left behind on NCR corpses easily matched the value due their quantity against the Brotherhood Tech's quality. Eventually, he traded in his current weapon (A Laser Rifle, which he had been using since the beginning of the apocalypse, found in a metal suitcase in a government building) for one of the Enclave's plasma rifles. However, one risky scav-mission lead to him losing the bottom of right leg when a land mine caused it to be blown off. As a result, he was crippled and had to use a metal peg-leg thereafter. He'd get upset, but apparently it made him appear more appetising to several wastelanders, and as long as business was booming he could give up a limb.
To this day, he wanders the Californian and Nevadan wasteland, selling whatever he manages to scavenge that is worth something and keeping things which are just too valuable to give up.
