Gerald Armstrong

Character Name: Gerald Armstrong

Nickname(s): Gerry

Race: Ghoul

Sex: Male

Age: 236

Birthplace: Los Angeles, California



Height: 6'1

Weight: 196lb

Eye Color: Zombie White (Both have a film covering them, so the iris is quite difficult to make out)

Hair Color: Reddish-Brown

Hair Style: Random Tufts scattered across scalp

Facial Hair: Clean Shaven (Facial hair still grows for him, but at a much slower rate)

Skin Color: Tanned, with several red areas of exposed muscle and under-tissue

Build: Muscular, Agile

Distinguishing Features: Scar on the bridge of his nose, Deeper voice than most ghouls, Has a habit of interlocking his fingers and clicking them, Tends to pace up and down frequently when in thought (A sign of mild ADHD)



Profession: Mercenary, Scavenger, Wanderer

Skills:

Guns, extensive
Medicine, moderate
Coercion, masterful
Unarmed, extensive

Training: American Army Basic Training, Firearms Training, Advanced CQC Training, Coercion Training (self-taught), Intermediate Medical Training

Other Abilities:

(He also cooks a mean fire ant stew)

Apparel: Gerald dons a set of leather-armoured trousers, leather boots, thick leather gauntlets, a tattered black vest, a string necklace with a rusted dogtag on the end and a utility belt.

Weaponry: Combat Shotgun (In a high state of repair, although the 12th chamber seems to be too damaged to fix and thus the gun only has an 11-shell capacity), Trench Knife

Other Equipment: Large Satchel (1), Shotgun Shells (46), Abraxo Cleaner (2), Water Canteen (1), Tins of Assorted Foods (4), Picture of Family (1), Pack of Cigarettes (2), Flask of Bourbon (1)



Affiliation: No-one but himself deep down, Anyone who's paying

Religious Belief: Anti-theism

Sexual Preference: Heterosexual

Relationship Status: Single

Personality: Gerald has struggled to manage under the weight of survival, and his ghoulification did help in this respect. Before the war, Gerald was a cheery, wisecracking joker who was sociable to even people he didn't like, and his sarcasm and cynicism back then was in good humour. After the war and in the years that followed, the sociability almost disappeared, the wisecracks remained but they were a lot more cynical and sarcastic (and this time the cynicism was genuine and NOT in good humour), and the jokes were morbid and only appealed to a select few. In spite of this, he has tried to remain calm and positive, but is sometimes haunted by the past and troubled by what's to come.



Gerald grew up in Santa Monica, LA and had a fairly normal upbringing. His Mother was a housewife and his father a high ranking member of the military, so naturally once he was of age was sent to boot camp by his father, and Gerry had no qualms with this. Seeing as he wanted to help as much as possible, he opted to undergo field medic training and by the time he was 23 he'd finished all the necessary training. Along with many of his friends, he was sent out to Anchorage in 2067 and served on the Front Line for 5 years with no leave. Due to being afflicted by an injury that would take time to heal, he was sent back home to LA. His father was proud and as soon as Gerry was back on his feet he went back to work in the Army Compound in LA for the duration of the time up until the great war. As soon as the great war came, it hit Gerry hard.

Most of his friends and family died in the blast, and those who didn't became feral ghouls soon after. Gerry was alone in this new world for a while, but he had all the supplies he could ever want for several years. It wasn't long before he traveled out of LA (taking his trusty Combat Shotgun and some light Combat Armour), into areas such as Orange County (or what was left of it) and smaller towns nearby. Gerry rarely met any fellow ghouls out in the wastes at this time, and his sanity and personality were slowly becoming more and more deteriorated. During this time his religious beliefs were also tested and eventually he stopped believing in God and despised anyone else who still did. Feeling homesick, he eventually returned to LA during the time that people had started settling there in the "Boneyard", as they seemed to call it now. Some of the humans shot him on sight, and the ones that didn't made him feel like a second class citizen and made it clear he was not welcome. He only stayed in LA for a while before going elsewhere, to New Reno and New Vegas, hoping to find a better sense of decency there, but it wasn't much different. If it wasn't thugs being racist to him, it was the NCR or whoever had the authority. There was, of course, some decent people but the balance was still 30% decent, 70% racist asshole. The racism had not reached it's peak yet, though...

Around the time of the Chosen One's exploits, Gerry was attacked by a racist group of raiders that he believed was a splinter group of the Khans (due to their similar dress sense). The fight occurred outside a warehouse in Western Nevada, which seemed to the be the home of this very small group of raiders currently. After a long-drawn exchange of gunfire, Gerry made a move for their leader who had run out of ammo. The leader was out of shape, so Gerry caught him pretty quickly, and when he did he make sure that he wouldn't be picking fights with any other fellow ghouls... What was in the warehouse itself was interesting though; a female ghoul, chained up and injured. As soon as Gerry was sure the leader of this group of assholes was dead, he went over to her and cut her loose. Although he didn't really have much in the way of the medical supplies with him, he managed to stabalise her using some leather belts as medical bracers and some torns rags taken from the raiders as bandages. Gerry remained in the warehouse until she awoke from her apparent coma, and once she got her bearings and found out who Gerry was, she thanked him. Gerry, seemingly infatuated, asked what her name was and wondered if she wanted to come with him. She said her name was Marcelene, accepted the offer, and the pair traveled together for a number of years, and in that time they formed a relationship. Gerry, in the years that followed, thought he'd finally found happiness. They worked together, as bounty hunters and mercs, doing obbjobs in whatever city or settlement they were in. Marcelene had become a big part of his life, so when she met her death at the hands of a group of thugs in Freeside around twenty years after meeting him, something inside Gerry snapped. After ruthlessly hunting each and every thug in Freeside down that he could find, he left and began traveling around, just to anywhere away from Vegas since it reminded him of her so much.

In the years that followed , he traveled more and more from town to town and from area to area, looking for somewhere to settle away from Vegas. In the end, he ended up back in New Vegas (or Freeside anyway), earning his caps from doing even dirtier mercenary work and stranger oddjobs for those who were willing to pay. By this time he had become much colder and more pessimistic, but still tried to remain positive where possible and keep what was left of his personality. (NOTE: By this time, his Combat Armour had broke and was replaced with what is mentioned in the "Apparel" section, and his Combat Shotgun also had also fell into it's current state by now). The events of Hoover Dam didn't really bother him since he tried to remain separate from all the bullshit fights other factions got into, seeing as both sides had a disliking for ghouls.

To this day, he remains in Freeside most of the time and travels back to LA or New Reno occasionally when it seems the jobs in Freeside have run dry.