Everyone in this RP is tall...hehe. My CS submitted for approval:
Character Sheet, Skirt with a weapon
Name: Helen Raindancer (Helen York)
Age: 31
Race: Human, Native Canadian
Gender: Female
Height: 5’ 2”
Weight: 180lbs pre-war, significantly less by time of emersion from shelter
Hair Style: Braided and long, the ends of her hair coming down to her mid-back pre-war, nearly to her waist by time of RP
Facial Hair: None
Hair Color: Deep brown, almost black
Eye Color: Brown
Skin Color: Tan
Body Build: Full-figured.
Appearance: Helen is only one-half Native Canadian but bears a number of the “typical” features: high cheekbones, high forehead, darker than Caucasian skin tone. She has full lips and large, pretty eyes, but is not more or less good looking than average. She is short and was quite overweight before the bombs dropped, but months in a shelter and very picky, ration eating, have caused her to lose a lot of weight. Once she emerges from her shelter, she still bears full hips but an average bust, causing her to have a distinctive pear shape.
Clothes: Light brown cardigan that ties at the waist, navy-blue t-shirt, khaki pants, sneakers. Also has a denim skirt and a couple other t-shirts, bras, and a pair of “fashion” boots. Beaded necklace in the “Native American” style that she keeps with her clothing but never wears.
Weapon(s): Butter knife.
Gear: A couple bottles of water, about a dozen packages of dry foods (cereal, snack cakes, biscuit mix, rice), bedroll, and a small suitcase with the clothing items detailed above.
Personality: Helen is fairly intelligent, reserved, and not very industrious. She is reliable to a point and doesn’t think much more beyond taking care of herself, and only doing the bare minimum to do even that. She is friendly and approachable, but simply not very outgoing and charismatic.
Bio:Helen York was the only child of Arnold and Patricia York, born in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. Her mother was Native American who had moved to the city to improve her employment prospects and worked in a deli owned by Arnold’s parents. Circumstances would have it that Arnold and Patricia would frequently work the night shift together and soon found themselves falling in love. Helen was born less than a year after they were married.
As an only child of parents who weren’t overly wealthy, but weren’t lacking for anything, Helen grew up never having to exert much effort in order to get anything she wanted. Smart enough to float through school doing the bare minimum, she found herself in university with little career aspirations or any kind of direction.
The population of Native American people in Canada was dwindling, particularly as many of them fought to keep the Americans, newly occupying the country, from destroying their lands further and [censored] the natural resources off the land. As their numbers died off, martyred for their cause, a country-wide outrage began to swell as Canadians opened their eyes to the genocide of their Native peoples.
The American government established the Department of Cultural Preservation and began to “protect” those they were so easily slaughtering out in the field in an attempt to save some face and placate the already unruly Canadians. In her final year of university, set to graduate with a social science degree and no job lined up (or even thought about), Helen found herself approached by a government representative of the DCP and offered the chance to be protected for the rest of her life.
“You are a national treasure,” she was assured. “Your heritage and your culture is important to America, and we would like to ensure your longevity as a member of the government.”
With no other aspirations in mind, Helen merely shrugged and went along with whatever the DCP wanted. They changed her name from York to Raindancer, to sound more “authentic.” Despite the fact she had been raised in the city, and knew nothing of her Native American heritage, she was dressed in “traditional” garments and flaunted around at various patriotic events in the spirit of government goodwill.
She was also referred to as “Native Canadian,” in an attempt to appeal to the Canadian patriots.
For the next few years, Helen didn’t have to worry about a thing. She was flown all across the country to participate in these events with a dozen other “representatives” and never had to do more than get dressed in what they provided for her, eat, and sleep. She ate well. She gained nearly a thirty pounds in the first two years. By the time the panic erupted, when it was clear that nuclear war was on the horizon, she had gained nearly a hundred pounds. The government simply had her clothing tailored over and over to fit her widening girth.
Her final event appearance took place in August of 2077. By then she was one of only three other Native Canadians who still participated in the program. The world had begun to prepare for the onset of nuclear war, and many officials from the government had started to disappear – most speculated they had moved into the fabulous fallout shelter Vaults. The letter came to her modest apartment in Seattle, where she received the worst news of her life.
Dear Ms. Helen Raindancer, aka Helen York,
The American government, and the Department of Cultural Preservation, would like to thank you for your many years of dedicated service as a Native Canadian representative. As you know, the country is preparing for the onset of nuclear war and verily has been locked in combat with our Communist enemies for the past several years. Unfortunately, funding for the DCP has been liquidated and we no longer can afford to retain your services as an important representative of your heritage and culture.
You will receive a final stipend next week.
At this time, we cannot reserve a spot for you within one of Vault-Tec’s many Vaults. While your heritage and culture are important to the patchwork quilt of America’s population, due to the budget cut, we simply cannot afford the fees. The program on the whole was a failure, and the American people do not see your life as any more valuable than any others.
We encourage you to apply for a space in a Vault as an individual and wish you the best of luck in the coming months.
Aimless, though not entirely penniless, Helen found herself drinking whiskey on the rocks at the nearby bar. Her friend Travis, the bar’s proprietor, offered her a job part-time. Patronage had increased but most of his employees had quit for various reasons, and he could use the extra hands.
By October 2077, Helen had left her apartment and began living in the basemant suite below the bar. She hadn’t realized that Travis had been fortifying the property for several months. When the earthquakes began, Travis locked them both inside.