» Tue Dec 29, 2009 8:22 pm
The sharp, green eyes with their cat-like, slitted pupils took in the unfolding drama with both curiosity and outrage, though she managed to keep the outrage in check.. it would be extremely bad to let her control slip even a tiny bit in a town like this, especially given the "situation." Rachael had only been in Megaton for two days now and though she didn't plan on staying all that long, she did want to, at some point, be able to come back.
The sight of the little halfling child didn't surprise her nearly as much as it did everyone else. The scent of Deathclaw had been taunting her since she arrived in the ramshackle little crater-town and it had, quite honestly, been driving her absolutely nuts. It smelled fresh, not like what a tanned hide or one of those rare weapons made of their hand she had seen once, but more like there was one there in the town. Yet, it also didn't smell right to her, something off about it that she couldn't quite place and her curiosity had been piqued through the roof as she tried to inconspicuously search the small village for the source of that odd Deathclaw-like smell. It dragged her mind back into memories of another Deathclaw, a tiny, just hatched one with no parents--both dead, but not by Rachael's hand--that she had taken care of what seemed like decades ago. He'd been a fully grown advlt when they parted ways and some days, she missed her old friend.
Well, she had certainly "found" it, finally, and while that had managed to sate her curiosity as to what the scent was coming from, it also further riled it up as she watched the small boy shift form into a fully advlt-sized Deathclaw. Her curiosity had been first, and at the events leading to the little boy changing his form and scrambling away as fast as his bigger body could take him, her outrage had swooped in to survey the scene, deciding it didn't like what it saw, not one bit. The only thing that kept her from growling deep in her chest was the fact that it seemed everyone in the small settlement was heading for the main gate, chasing after the boy-turned-Deathclaw and she was right along with them, packed in like sardines as they all tried to leave at the same time.
By the time she was able to escape the gates herself, those who had been in front of her spread out, now looking a bit more uneasy as none of them, least of all Stockholm, had actually seen where the creature had went. The Protectron robot was abysmally useless as well as it wasn't programmed to pay attention to things leaving. Now that it was out of Megaton, the chase dwindled off, everyone eventually giving it up. Rachael had an advantage over them, though, because she could track exactly where the hybrid child had gone and she set off in that general direction at a sedate run. Some of the other humans had ran off as well, in other directions, and so she didn't think her doing the same would arouse much suspicion, though she likely wouldn't be walking back five minutes later after deciding hunting for a Deathclaw alone was generally not a good idea.
Unlike all the others though, the emotion that drove her on was a kind of unknowing worry, her curiosity and outrage both stifled for the moment. She hadn't needed her enhanced senses to know that the boy, even as he shifted form into an impressive beast, was terrified out of his mind. Sure, the scent left behind was thick with overbearing fear, but body language had pretty much broadcasted it. Though, as she had found out over the course of her own life, humans tended to not see those sorts of things and only saw the monster when they realized it was there. Adjusting her dark-tinted sunglasses--the only thing she really had to wear in order to camouflage her own "monster"--she put strength into her sprint as she got further away from the town, running far faster than a regular human normally could, and she started searching.
Rachael wasn't one to take up causes or help others when it wouldn't benefit herself--it's every man for himself out here--but this was different. This was something that clenched her heart and brought forth memories that she didn't like, shoving them away. The normally ever-grumpy, large and muscular woman, showed another side of herself. She hid behind the Mercenary attitude and tended to frown a lot (though that was also partially due to her face being arranged in a somewhat permanent scowl and she was fine with that because at least she had proper lips even if she did tend to always appear to be sizing you up and calculating how many ways she could kill you). Now though, a soft, normally heavily buried part of her came out and with nearly the same force rages usually took, this sent her to find, to make right, to protect, and like a rage, she was somewhat powerless against that pulling, calling desire.
In fact, she wanted to feel this, because it helped remind herself that the world hadn't taken those good things from her completely, those few things that let her remain somewhat a part of humanity. It helped remind her that though his genetic material had given her a great many useful gifts, it had also threatened to take away her own humanity if she gave into it and she was firm in her resolve to not let go and become something her father might have been proud of, if even capable of such an emotion. While she hated what they did to each other, to those like her, to Ghouls, to that little boy, she was still human and she would cling to that as hard as she could.
Right now, that human side got some time out in the sun, bringing with it instincts that were definitely not Super Mutant in nature whatsoever. Female maternal instincts to protect a child, instincts to protect those who can't protect themselves, the desire to help those who had none. These all came out in force as her pace slowed and her searching became more thorough. She could sense she was getting close, the dirty ground disturbed with claw-marks and the scent here much more potent.
"Hee-eey," she called out in a soft little sing-song voice. Stopping entirely, senses on full alert and knowing he could hear her (she could certainly hear choked, terrified sobbing nearby), she crouched down on the ground, steading herself with one hand. planted on the dirt, the other hand resting across her lap, her weapons utterly ignored. "I know I look like a big, scary merc, but I'm harmless, especially to adorable little boys even if they can become big and mean. I respect that, because protecting yourself is important above all, but maybe you don't want to protect yourself, you want to be protected and I'm more than happy to take up the job if you like." Her voice was a little rough and a bit deep, but it was still distinguishable as female, just a very butch female. She looked, and sounded, exactly like what she wanted the world to see her as, but she hoped that the little boy could see beyond her mask, her charade, as she spoke kind words, even removing her glasses so her unusual eyes could be seen.
~
*Character Sheet:
Name: Rachael
Full Name: Rachael Yogere
Age: 37
Gender: Female
Race: human/Super Mutant (her father was a mutant)
Physical appearance: A tall, intimidating woman who never looks happy and tends to frown or just generally be unpleasant company. She wears a long, old leather Duster she had found off a dead man. It hadn't fit at first, but she was able to resize it, though she would never be able to button it up, and so it always remained open. At her left hip is a longsword within a scabbard hanging from a thick belt around her waist. Other pouches and items hang from that same belt. Her shirt looks to be some kind of T-shirt, a dirty black colour and her pants are also leather, tanned a dark brown to match her coat. Her hair is done up in neat, tight braids with all kinds of beads throughout, many falling over, and partially obscuring the woman's face. Her muscular structure is quite impressive when one could see it, but she does her best to keep her skin mostly hidden, partially due to the fact that her structure is somewhat unnatural.. not as bad as her eyes, but just for self-conscious reasons.
Height: 6'9"
Weight: 400lbs. All muscle, baby
Class: Mercenary
Personality: Mostly, Rachael is grim and unapproachable. It keeps her sane and keeps people from asking her ridiculous questions. She doesn't feel much comfortable around normal humans anymore, learning to be suspicious of everyone the hard way. She liked Gob, though, and he had been the only person in the small town to see her smile. She doesn't mind much of anybody as long as they leave her alone, stay out of her way, and don't endanger her job. In fact, while working, she is a force to be reckoned with because she takes it very seriously.
While she has a good, solid wrap on her emotions most of the time, if pushed too far, she will flip into a mindless bloodlust just like any regular mutant would (and she does wish she hadn't inherited that specific trait). While in a rage, she knows allies and friends, but everyone and everything else becomes fair game to unleash her fury upon. Normally, even in day-to-day battle, she holds all of her strength back, only using what is required. During a berserk rage, she has absolutely no restraint at all.
She does have a softer side to her, though. Hidden under the gruff attitude and distrust is a woman who, by her own standards is still quite young. She's had so little social interaction through her life that didn't include caps or guns or using said guns, that when it comes to interpersonal communication, she can be quite uncomfortable. If provoked, she can be just as loving and protective as she can be rageful, just with different targets in mind. Due to her own history, she will seek out and aid those she feels kinship with. Sometimes, it's just nice to be around people who understand.
Weapons: Longsword hanging at her left, Sniper Rifle strapped across her back, Hunting rifle always either at the ready, or dangling from it's strap on her right arm, prepared to be ready at a moment's notice. She has also taken up study of a mish-mash of martial arts and can sometimes surprise her opponent with a unique skill or move (especially useful against Raiders and other Super Mutants because they're not smart enough to see what's coming).
Clothing: Dark brown leather Duster that comes down to her ankles with a black shirt under it, dark brown leather pants to match, black, steel-toed boots, a heavy belt around her waist carrying supplies in various pouches. Dark tinted sunglasses. Fingerless black leather gloves that cover her arms to just the elbow. The only skin visible besides her head is her upper arm from where the sleeves of the Duster end and where the odd gloves begin, showing off the rather impressive muscles there. Rachael likes to keep her clothing simple, not too heavy, and durable. She doesn't wear armor for that specific reason, other than a few metal plates sewn into the lining of her Duster--that thing alone weighs at least 50lbs.
BIO:
Rachael had never known her father, and her mother never told her about him until she was eighteen. Even though some things had obviously been edited out of the story to make it even able to be spoken of in the first place, it was more than enough for her to know full well what had actually happened and it made her spine shiver in a chill. Not once had her mother ever considered her a burden, nor had she ever wanted to terminate the pregnancy and Rachael was glad for her mother being so accepting and still caring for her after the horrors she had faced.
It was also around that time that Rachael's body started to change. Once Puberty hit the young woman, it had hit like a freight train and she would sometimes gain a couple pounds of what appeared to be solid muscle over the course of a night. Some of these "growth spurts" could be horrifically painful, but she made it through somehow. After all the pain of growing, she started noticing other things--senses more keen than they'd ever been, immunity to Radiation and disease, and the more obvious ones of her muscle structure and her eyes. Her facial structure was a bit off, heavy browed, but nothing too odd about it.
Years later, her mother passed away from acute Radiation Poisoning. They had been an exceptionally poor family and simply couldn't afford better water to drink. Though she was more or less immune to the Radiation, her mother hadn't been and it had been hell on her to watch the woman, the only person she had in this entire blasted world, slowly fade away. Her mother's dying breath had triggered her first true rage and she practically tore the small shack they lived in apart before she got herself under control.
Learning and using that control had been very difficult at first and she had tended to shy away from people as she worked hard on acting like a normal person. It took her years to get something like control over it, though it was this time, both being alone for so long, and the somewhat tenuous control that made her surly and antisocial. She interacted enough to get jobs and to get paid, but beyond that, not much more.
Eventually she did uncover that more caring side of her that she had thought had long since died and it had, bizarrely, taken finding a Deathclaw hatchling to drag it back out. Raising the tiny creature to a fully advlt and proudly built male had sated something deep within herself, a strange desire to help those in need that simply would never be helped otherwise. Not one to take up causes or the like, for the absolutely downtrodden, for the "freaks", for the "monsters", she showed this compassionate, loving side.
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