Post by .4 on Apr 14, 2012 0:00:57 GMT -5
Name: Magpie
Age: 27
Faction: Loner
Height: 175 cm
Weight: 64 kg
Hair Colour: Dark brown
Eye Colour: Brown
Appearance: Gas masks looked like bug faces or skulls, Magpie always thought, but it still wouldn't do to be seen without one. This particular one was white and was old and was cracked, which only served to make it more bone-like. Under the mask, however, things became softer and fleshier; large brown eyes, a long straight nose, a tiny mouth and an oval, undefined jaw made Magpie the very image of an Orthodox saint. This impression was only reinforced by a golden Saint Constantine medallion hanging next to a blue bead. But instead of frankincense, Magpie smelled of nut oil and sickly sweet jasmine, and if anyone expected soothing and patient humility from this myrrh-bearer, they'd be in for a disappointment.
Backstory: "Magpie" had been a fitting, if not ill-intended name for a person who was much like the same bird: uncomplicated, loud, pervasive and hostile; none of them good traits, or even loveable ones. With roots in Asia Minor, Magpie was never comfortable in Russia due to an insular upbringing. Having a poor grasp of the language and miserable in isolation, Magpie's correspondence with an ex-military stalker from long ago brought about the idea of fleeing into the Zone. It was an easy decision to make for someone with such a superstitious and fatalistic nature; the Zone offered an escape from the prison of having no past to be proud of.
(If anyone cares for an insight into Magpie's past, motives, personality and thoughts on the zone, here's a short letter to the stalker friend mentioned earlier.)
Weapons: Walker P9M, AK-74/2
Armour: Rookie Jacket
Age: 27
Faction: Loner
Height: 175 cm
Weight: 64 kg
Hair Colour: Dark brown
Eye Colour: Brown
Appearance: Gas masks looked like bug faces or skulls, Magpie always thought, but it still wouldn't do to be seen without one. This particular one was white and was old and was cracked, which only served to make it more bone-like. Under the mask, however, things became softer and fleshier; large brown eyes, a long straight nose, a tiny mouth and an oval, undefined jaw made Magpie the very image of an Orthodox saint. This impression was only reinforced by a golden Saint Constantine medallion hanging next to a blue bead. But instead of frankincense, Magpie smelled of nut oil and sickly sweet jasmine, and if anyone expected soothing and patient humility from this myrrh-bearer, they'd be in for a disappointment.
Backstory: "Magpie" had been a fitting, if not ill-intended name for a person who was much like the same bird: uncomplicated, loud, pervasive and hostile; none of them good traits, or even loveable ones. With roots in Asia Minor, Magpie was never comfortable in Russia due to an insular upbringing. Having a poor grasp of the language and miserable in isolation, Magpie's correspondence with an ex-military stalker from long ago brought about the idea of fleeing into the Zone. It was an easy decision to make for someone with such a superstitious and fatalistic nature; the Zone offered an escape from the prison of having no past to be proud of.
(If anyone cares for an insight into Magpie's past, motives, personality and thoughts on the zone, here's a short letter to the stalker friend mentioned earlier.)
Weapons: Walker P9M, AK-74/2
Armour: Rookie Jacket