OOC Info
Name/Alias: Nooone
Live Journal: Also none. I don't have a personal lj.
IC Info
Name: Fiona Riggins (or Fee - call her FiFi and she'll probably shoot you...or worse. She IS a surgeon.)
Age: Twenty Seven
Height: Five feet - seven inches
Weight: One hundred and twenty three pounds
Hair: Chopped short, wild and bright red.
Eyes: Light Brown/Gray
Skin: In a permanent state of sunburn. Covered in dust, grime, oil and on occasion - blood. So er...Tan?
Race: Human; Caucasian
Hometown/Origins: Canterbury Commons
Current Residence: The old barber shop building in the Commons
Employment/Hobbies: Mechanic (she got a promotion when Wollinski went batty) and occasionally the doctor.
Companion: None. (I want her to have one eventually. . .I just don't know who/what. . .)
Personality: Fiona is an odd duck. She'll smoke a cigarette, gulp vodka from the bottle and lecture you on the ill effects of alcohol and tobacco. She knows human anatomy just as well as she knows the circuit board of a computer or the inner workings of a robot(which is pretty damn well), and has a habit of whistling while she works. That habit, of course, is a little more disconcerting when she's, let's say, amputating your leg, than when she's fiddling with a broken radio or fixing a Mr. Gutsy's combat protocols. Unsettling tendencies aside, she is good at what she does and makes a decent living by wasteland standards.
Fiona is surprisingly amicable, though she has the crass vocabulary of a seasoned raider and knows just how to use it(and very much enjoys doing so), she's decent to people so long as they don't piss her off, but she has a low tolerance for blatant stupidity so a lot of wastelanders DO piss her off. She has dubious moral standards and rarely does anything for free; You don't have to pay right away and she'll accept mechanical parts and gun parts as readily as caps but you DO have to pay or she'll use that scalpel for something decidedly more detrimental to your health (barring certain circumstances, she has a soft spot for kids).
She calls everyone by some sort of random endearment or pet name, whether she likes you or not. In some cases they can be a limited show of affection (ie: Derek Pacion) and in other instances they take a more sarcastic twist (ie: Moira Brown - the younger woman drives her up a wall) but nine times out of ten they don't have any sort of underlying meaning; it's just another habits to throw out a 'dear', 'sweetheart' 'sunshine' or 'doll' when addressing someone.
History: Fiona wasn't born in Canterbury Commons but it is, for all intents and purposes, her hometown. It's the first place she has clear memories of and the place she grew up. Born in the year 2250 to Cecilia Riggins and an unnamed caravan trader(a man she never met and felt otherwise ambivalent toward), Fiona spent only the first seven years of her life with her mother before she re-caught the traveling bug, the same bug that probably drove her to hook up with a trader, and left her young daughter in the care of Uncle Roe in the small, but surprisingly secure settlement of Canterbury Commons. Fiona couldn't quite blame her mother, since at the age of twenty she was struck by the same disease, venturing out the relative safety of her home to travel the Wastes.
Roaming abroad for a good four years she spent most of her time mapping settlements and ruins and 'places-to-never-go-again-because-raiders-are-crazy-motherfuckers', picking up odd jobs doing repairs, playing nurse and occasionally scavving for things to sell and things to keep and things that could be fixed and tinkered with to make something better. When she finally returned to Canterbury Commons, little had changed, Dom and Machete had moved in and taken over the auto shop, but Joe Porter was still the only cook and Scott still played handy man for the town and whoever wandered through. The familiarity was nice after the unpredictability of wastes, and she settled down again, a little grittier, a little more cynical and a lot more skilled with the new shotgun strapped to her back, but content to remain in the place she called home until the whim struck her again.
Three years later found her in Scott's old job, patching up machines and people now, and spending at least one day a week making sure Derek didn't venture too close to the crazies duking it out in the center of their town.
Preferred Weapons: Combat Shotgun, Grenades and a trench knife.
Preferred Armor: Wasteland Surgeon Outfit
Motto: "--" coming soon.
Some Extra Nonsense;;
Her Song(s):
- "Empire" - Kasabian
- "Let It Rock" - Kevin Rudolf
- "When The War Came" - The Decemberists
Her Skills:
Medicine
Repair
Small Guns
Her . . . Epic!Fails?
Lockpick
Big Guns (if she tried to pick up a fatman she'd fall over)
Unarmed
Melee Weapons (with the minor exception of knives...you don't want to know what she can do with a scalpel)
Speech (she's nice enough. . .but her version of persuasion leans more toward violent coercion)
(Also, check out this bad assery [lmao]. Why? Because I have no self control, courtesy of hero machine. Even my profile is longer than I intended, but I couldn't stop.)
