Tommy D Macarol

Name: T4-13
Nickname: Tommy D Macarol
Race: Gen 2 synth
Sex: Male
Age:25
Birthplace: The institute.

Height: 6' 0"
Weight: 250 lb
Eye Color: Blue grey
Hair Color: N/A
Hair Style: N/A
Facial Hair: N/A
Skin color: Grey
Build: Muscular structure, tall.
Noticable features: on Tommy's left hand, some of the plastic plating has been damaged.

Profession: Scavenger.
Skills and abilities: Repair, lockpicking, menial tasks, shooting a gun.
Apparel: T4 wear's a Black fedora, with a long sleeved gray shirt, rag around his face, a bandana around his forehead, a white lab coat, a pair of jeans, leather boots, and some old socks
Weaponry: An old institute pistol, battered and bruised, but still an effective weapon.
Other possessions: A sheet, ammunition, and a small tent.
Affiliation: None.
Residence: None.
Religious belief: All life is precious.
Companions: None
Personality: Logical, with a good sense of humor, yet unable to laugh. Believes truth is more important than how a man feels.

History:
    "What separates a man from a machine? A human has a will. A machine doesn't. I have a will."-T4-13

T4 was created in the cold confines of a laboratory. He was a prototype for the new T model gen 2 synth. He was unique. He could understand human emotion, he had a sense of humor. He was designed to be a companion, not a servant or a soldier.
But he was very different from how his creators intended. He didn't follow orders automatically. He questioned authority, and his mind wandered, thinking. His superiors didn't like that at all. So, they deemed the prototype a failure, and left him to rust on the surface.
But he hadn't shut off.
In the process of terminating him, the synth in charge was faulty, not removing T4's power cell. And so, when T4 awoke, his programming and normal self intact, he at first felt sad, and hoped they would bring him back. He fended for himself, and desperately tried to survive the dangers of the commonwealth. But over time, T4 began to realize that what he'd been given wasn't terrible. In the institute, he had no future. He would forever be looked upon as not human, not sentient, without a will. He would forever be seen as inferior, only built to serve. Out here, in the wasteland, it may not be gauranteed that he would see tomorrow, but he would die a free person, not a slave. And so, with a new found confidence, he made it a goal to live his life for as long as possible, and that what he had been given was a precious gift: life.
At 10, 5 years after he had been abandoned by the Institute, T4 came up with a name for himself. T could be made into a bunch of names, but he decided that the best one was Thomas. But Thomas was to formal in the wasteland. He decided to call himself Tommy. Since D was the 4th letter of the Alphabet, he decided to leave that as his middle name: D. Finally, 13 went to the letter M. This was the tricky part. But, one day, Tommy found a piece of a comic strip from before the war. The only legible words were, "Macarol!" He liked how the kid saying it had such a funny expression, so he decided that would be his last name. Tommy D Macarol.
At 12, Tommy found a small community in the capital wasteland. He had been wandering the wasteland for a while now, so leaving the commonwealth was expected. When he walked in, wearing only a few scavenged articles of clothing, he looked around. Not many people were outside. So when a woman came out of her house, and screamed at the top of her lungs, Tommy was alarmed. In only a couple seconds, 10 men were pointing guns at him, bellowing threats. Tommy tried to calm them down, but they were scared. Very scared. He held his hands up, he told them he was just a wanderer.
"Bullshit! You wanna kill us don't you?"
"Why in god's name would I do that?!"
"Cus you're a f*cking android!"
"I may be an android, but I don't just walk into towns of decent people and murder them! If you think androids are the ones who do that, how many androids are raiders or super mutants?!"
His logic seemed to calm them down, but it didn't stop the most paniced of all to shot his shotgun at him. Thankfully, it only hit Tommy's hand, though the damage was really bad."What the hell was that for?"
"Just-just go! We don't want you here!"
"They didn't want me where I came from either!"
"Than they're pretty smart people!"
Tommy was beaten, locked up, and robbed. But he was okay with it. He was alive, and they were ignorant people.
He spent 2 weeks in a cell until they let him out. They allowed him to stay, but grudgingly. He tried to make friends. It didn't work. He left that town a changed person. 
A year later, he arrived at another town. When he got there, it wasn't a scream that greeted him. A child had seen him first, and instead of running away, he walked up to him, curious. After a bit, other towns folk came out to see the metal man. They talked to him, cracked jokes, and a mechanic even offered to help repair his hand. Apart from a couple dents and no new plating, his hand was as good as new. Tommy learned something about people: They were capable of being terrible, but also good.
Slowly, Tommy began to appreciate life, believing that it was a priviledge, and that it is precious. So Tommy vowed to not kill, at all.
Years passed. Tommy had fought more than a couple people after this, but it didn't change his new found belief. He always left a fight alive, along with his opponent. Now, all he wants is a peaceful life, one without death, one without a terrible fear of being captured by the institute. All he wants is peace, and he will fight for it.