Un clin d'œil solennel et sans éclat était la seule réponse de Joe à la menace de Sky, avant qu'elle ne revienne à son jeu. Elle a fait un point valable, quiconque planifie une excursion comme celle-ci a dû avoir de sérieuses ressources pour les soutenir. Mais... la Chine? Il partageait l'intérêt de l'autre pour ce point. Il n'était pas un buff de l'histoire, et en fait, il était presque totalement perdu dans cette conversation. Il a donc décidé de rester calme et d'apprendre ce qu'il pouvait.
Puis, le prochain membre de leur petite « fête » est arrivé. Une autre femme asiatique, accompagnée d'une sorte de Mr. Variante pratique. Ils ne ressemblaient pas vraiment à des mercs, des scientifiques, ou à quelqu'un qu'il attendait de venir. Ils avaient presque l'air d'être élevés dans une chambre forte. Sa peau s'est bourrée, cette pensée l'a dérangé. Le type qui a sorti son équipage était dans une chambre forte. Elle n'avait pas l'air d'une menace, mais elle n'a pas non plus erré seule. Super, un autre à regarder. C'est quoi ce genre d'expédition?
Pendant que les autres parlaient, il laissait un soupir. Il avait déjà été près de têtes d'œufs, et pouvait reconnaître où allait cette conversation. Peu importe. Je n'ai pas besoin des détails. Dis-moi juste quoi tirer, et c'est mort, il a pensé. Peu importe ce qu'était leur fin de partie, la seule chose qui compte, c'est d'être payé et de rentrer à la maison.
Il s'est emparé de son sac à dos et a sorti sa bouteille de whisky. Il l'avait trouvé il y a longtemps, et il n'avait pas encore ouvert. C'était rare de trouver une bouteille de n'importe quoi en si bon état, donc il l'avait gardée pour une occasion spéciale. Les occasions spéciales étaient aussi rares dans ce monde, alors Joe a pensé que cela pouvait compter. Il l'a tordue et a pris une perruque.
Name: Joseph "Joe" O'Connor
Allegiance: Gunners (former)
Unaffiliated Mercenary(current)
Race: Human


Mostly like this, but longer facial hair and a few more scars, most notable of which is a large gouge that goes from underneath right eye to chin, that goes over the mouth.
Sex: Male
Age: 30
Inventory:
Apparel
Dirty T-shirt, jeans, boots
Full Gunner armor set, though the green paint is mostly faded and the Gunner symbols have been scratched away
Military rucksack, worn on back
Weapons
Semi-automatic combat rifle with reflex sight and bayonet, slung over abdomen when not in use
9mm pistol, unmodified, kept in hip holster
Two combat knives, one kept in sheathe located on chest, and one hidden in boot
Misc.
5.56 ammunition, 50 rounds
9mm ammunition, 20 rounds
One fragmentation grenade
Two stimpaks
Alcohol (One bottle of whiskey, one bottle of vodka)
450 bottlecaps
Backstory:
Joe used to be a Gunner. He didn't take pleasure in the job, but it was something he was good at. That, and it kept caps in his pocket and booze in his belly. Things were going fine in the Commonwealth, he had been stationed in a more populated area. That meant there was almost always an income of food and caps, given willingly or otherwise. Until one day, a new recruit opened fire on a lone passerby, under no orders to do so. What came next could only be described as a massacre. One man took on what was basically a fortress, and came out mostly unscathed. The stranger took everything of value, leaving the once thriving station desolate. Joe alone survived because he was out on patrol, thus the meager supplies he now carries.
Afterward, Joe denounced the Gunners, angrily scratching the symbols off his armor. They were supposed to be elite, yet they were taken down by one man. Joe then became a wanderer himself, mostly shunned by civilization, due to the armor, which still looked like the standard Gunner green. He took what jobs he could get, he wasn't picky. He couldn't afford to be. One week, he might be saving a child for weeping parents, the next he could be taking those same people into slavery. As long as he got paid. And Joe always made sure to get paid.
His latest job was the protection of a wealthy traveling merchant. At one of his stops, he overheard a conversation about something that came over the radio. Someone was recruiting travelers from all over the Commonwealth, something about stopping the Brotherhood's return. Joe was ambivalent towards them. He was human, after all, and not hoarding forgotten tech. But the mission was apparently going to be risky, and risky meant a hefty payday. So, once his contract with the merchant expired, he set off in search of who put out the call.
Personality:
Joe is reserved, and values strength. He doesn't communicate much, except to negotiate a contract or bark orders when they pertain to the safety of his client. He is quick to dismiss someone who shows signs of weakness. While not particularly intelligent, he maintains a cool head under pressure. He thrives in the battlefield, making shrewd use of his supplies. Not prone to making friends, because caring about others in battle makes you sloppy, and being sloppy makes you dead.