Orson Aconi

Character Name: Orson Aconi

Nickname(s): Ors, Sonny, Buddy, Max, Miguel, Oscar, Luis, Joan, Archie, Ron, Charlie - or basically any name that comes to mind.

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Age: 31

Birthplace: New Reno



Height: 5’ 10”

Weight: 149lbs

Eye Colour: blue

Hair Colour: black

Hair Style: cut short around the back and sides, less short on the head sleek and combed back on the top.

Facial Hair: Clean shaven

Skin Colour: Caucasian

Build: muscular, semi-built though not finely tuned.

Distinguishing Features: His narrow facial features, and intimidating appearance.



Profession: Career Criminal

Skills: Unarmed, firearms

Training: Firearms an unarmed skills are both the result of his work as a thug working for the Bishops

Other Abilities: Whilst working he learned to play the charm card too, making him quite smooth and intimidating at the same time.

Apparel: Black pre-war fedora, long black overcoat, a black tie, black and white pinstripe trousers with suspenders over a white shirt. A pistol holster inside the jacket, strapped to his chest.

Weaponry:

Other Equipment: He’s usually carrying a few lock picks, a flashlight, a pack of cigarettes when he can get his hands on them, a lighter and a flask.



Affiliation: Other than Roxanne, himself and that’s about it.

Religious Belief: None-practising Christian

Sexual Preference: Heterosexual

Relationship Status: Currently in relationship with Roxanne and quite happy.

Personality: Orson can be considered a morally grey person at best. He’s not against killing for what he wants, and can be partial to physical violence. Though he’s average in intellect, he’s street smart. He won’t gamble unless it’s a sure win, and knows a cheat when he sees one. Despite this though, he can be tempted quite easily, partially so when there is a fortune to be made, or a thrill to be had.

He has something of an addiction to taking things that aren't his. He likes the thrill of the chase, and enjoys the life he leads. He knows it's wrong, and he simply doesn't care. He knows he's going to hell, and he figures that he might as well enjoy the ride down.



Orson Aconi was born in New Reno, into a family of thugs who worked within in the Shark Club. His father was a guard who worked in the casino, and his mother was, in polite terms, a showgirl. Orson was no different to his family, and came under the employ of the Bishops when he came of age. At first he worked as a runner for the Bishops, sending packages across New Reno, or within the Shark Club itself. When he got a bit older, his father took him under his wing and Orson was taught how to shoot.

Throughout his life as a casino guard, as it was officially known, he took care of cheaters, counters and any other guys the Bishops wanted care of. For a while that was fun and all, but it wasn’t really enough to satisfy him. Eventually, Orson took interests in other aspects of life. He experimented with hookers, alcohol and chems. Hell, sometimes he took part in a bit of gambling on the side. Like most everything though, Orson soon lost interest. He did consider going into professional gambling, but being a thug, he knew the ins and outs of both sides of the field. As such, he knew where the cheating happened, and new how the games were rigged in order to screw a lucky streak over. So Orson looked elsewhere for thrills.

In 2273 Orson decided to take up boxing in the ring below the Shark Club. Though the fights happened in a boxing ring, the matches were more like cage fighting. The fighting was brutal, and Orson had his fair share of injuries in the ring. Despite the injuries however, he used the ring to increase his strength. Secretly he kind of liked the thrill of the fight.

Unfortunately he wasn’t a particularly great fighter. It was true that he had strength behind him, but on the whole, he wasn’t a prize fighter. After he had gotten the most out of the fights, he figured the life wasn’t for him and so he decided to back to simply being a casino guard.

Orson and his guard friends had always joked about robbing the Bishops one day, just to see their faces. It was never taken for seriousness, just a joke, at least that’s what they thought. Orson inwardly revelled in the idea. It was a fantasy of his to rob the casino and run off with the loot, and taking one glance to look at the Bishops’ face as he ran off with their money. He thought of it often, but he never thought to actually do it. Then a moment came, and Orson took a chance. A cashier like an idiot left some money unattended whilst they were distracted by a customer. Orson, seeing the money unguarded, was tempted into taking it. Orson swiped up the money and hastily went to the exit. He didn’t take a moment to stop and think, he just went. He ran home, kicked open the door and threw the money on the bed. As the realisation sunk in, he knew he was screwed. He’d just taken about seven hundred caps from the Bishops. He gathered up what he could, and slipped out of the back window and into the alleyway below. As he dropped down, he could hear the Bishop thugs bashing his door in and screaming his name. That was as good a glance at the Bishops as any, he had thought, before sprinting down the alleyway and making for the exit out of New Reno.

Before long, Orson found himself heading south as fast as possible. Though he had no idea whether the Bishops decided he was worthwhile enough to send goons after, he thought it’d be wise to disappear into the deserts of California. For a time he considered joining with the NCR, though he knew that was as much of a death sentence as going back to Reno. Nontheless, he needed some income and he couldn’t hide in the wastes forever. So he decided to head to Junktown and hustle bar patrons, and any other poor sucker he could find. Orson ended up in one of the scummiest hotels in Junktown and renting a room. He hated the place, but he doubted anyone would look for him there, if they were looking for him.

For the next year or so, Orson raised cash by hustling the soldiers passing through on their way to New Vegas. Junktown was rough however. If he pissed off the wrong people, he was more or less in for trouble. After a run in with a local group of thugs, Orson decided to invest in some personal protection. With the money he gained from hustling, he was able to invest in some personal weapons, namely his MP40, which had looked like crap when he first got it. It was cheap, so he couldn’t complain, and he had some idea as to how to clean it up. When it was cleaned up, he made sure people could see it. He knew that with a visible weapon, people were less likely to attack him. He also bought new clothes, and made himself look like he wasn’t to be messed with. It apparently worked, as the last few months of his time in Junktown went by with little incident.

This became a bit of a disadvantage, because people knew him, and they knew not to gamble with him. So, Orson decided to move on, heading to Hub. Though Orson had prepared for the trip to the Hub, he found himself with dwindling supplies part way on the journey. Desperate for supplies, Orson waited by the road until a traveller showed up. Eventually one did, and Orson jumped out of his hiding spot and began to rob the man before him. Before he knew it, the guy pulled out a gun, and Orson had let a small volley of bullets from his MP40. The man died shortly after, and Orson was free to take his stuff. Orson practically stripped the guy bear, only leaving the clothes on the man’s back. With little thought to his actions, Orson turned and moved on towards the Hub.

Once in the Hub, Orson settled down to hustle in the bars and clubs. He found there were even more troops to swindle in the Hub, as it was down the Long 15, on the road to the Mojave. As time went by, it was here his past caught up with him. He’d been staying in another crummy hotel, when some goons kicked in the door and put their guns to his face. In walked his father, missing a hand, and now sporting a rusty hook. Orson knew his father was pissed when the guy stepped in. He knew just how pissed when the guy pretty much beat him black and blue with one hand. By the time his father was done with him, the hotel room was trashed and Orson was bleeding and badly bruised.

It seemed Orson’s “debt” had been paid off with his father’s hand, and now the debt Orson owed was with his father. As Orson was left on the floor, his father took what money he could get from Orson’s stash and then began to walk out. Orson picked himself up and had just managed to sit on the couch, when his father told him that there would be interest to pay, and Orson knew where to send it. After telling Orson that he never wanted to see his son again, he left, heading back to New Reno.

Orson decided it was time to move on again, not wanting to fork up the bill for the broken hotel room as well as the interest on his so called ‘debt’. He decided to move on up the Long 15, and try his luck on the people of the Mojave.

Eventually he ended up in Nipton. He spent what time he had there, gambling and hustling when he could. It was then he got into a game with a guy known to the locals as “Big Burt”. Orson knew a cheat when he saw one, and this guy was no exception. He allowed the guy to win, and then cornered him and his friend after the game. Though Orson attempted to persuade the guy to return what caps he took, the guy refused and instead decided to take Orson for everything he had. It was then an angel fell upon Orson’s shoulder. Roxanne came in like a whirlwind, killing the two men in front of him before he or they had even had a chance to react. His life was now in her debt, and as she introduced herself, and he introduced himself, he realised that he’d have no choice but to go along with her. At least until she decided the debt was paid.

Though his debt was eventually paid with the robbing of the Mayor of Nipton, the two stuck together as they fled. Orson still felt that his debt remained unpaid to Roxanne, especially as she gave him a new life on the run. Truth was, he wasn't even half doing it to pay off his debt to her, in fact, he just loved the thrill of thievery. It was as much of an addiction as any chem. Probably a whole lot more lethal too eventually. For for now Orson would keep his guns cleaned and loaded whilst they took what they could from the Mojave.