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-snip-

----OOC Info----

-Minecraft IGN: Shadss

-Skype name (Optional, for server OOC chat): Will be PM’d

-Do you have any prior roleplay-related experience, if so could you give an example?- I have five or so years of semi-serious and serious RP experience, as well as various Characters still being played in various different roleplay servers. Not sure how I could give an example, unless you'd like screenshots?

-Define Power-gaming in your own words: Being ultra-powerful in various ways. Forcing actions upon other players.

-Define Meta-gaming in your own words: Using OOC information ICly, simple.

----IC Info----

-Character name: Tanin Alyxinder Blackthorn

-Character race: Human

-Character age: 23

-Character Occupation: Thief, Recreational Hunter

-Character description: A semi-small human man, standing in at 5'8, and usually stands proudly, although slightly hunched over. His black garbs would be that of ebony, and appear to be a mixture of various hides, leathers and cloths, with various threads of silk hanging around his body. A large leather sash which would be attached to an old empty leather sheath, and one small throwing dagger would hang upon his thigh. The blade would be made of iron, with it having a large crack down one face of the knife, from hard use. It looks like it'd shatter at any moment. (( Not an IC Item ))

A large hood would be placed just below his neck, guarding his shoulders almost, and a very -very- keen eye could see that there would be two small pouches within the hood, wielding a lockpick and a small tension knife. His left shoulder would have a soft leather shoulder pad, dyed black of course, to withstand oncoming right-handed swordsmen. The shoulder pad would have a slight 'Wall' that'd protect his neck, and within this wall would be thin but slightly hardened scrap metals. His chest would seem... buffed out, toned, even though under the clothes he is but just slightly above average in physique. A hardened leather piece, capable of withstanding various slashes from various small dirks and daggers. His torso would be baggy, with his clothing having two layers in which an armored plate can be rested. However, his pouch would remain empty.

Upon his hands would be two black fingerless gloves, with small pouches in the palms of the gloves for slipping in various tiny items undetected. On the left hand of his glove would be a hardened and tanned leather plate, stopping just below the knuckles. Within each knuckle of each hand would be an iron stud, to increase the impact of punching.

His eyes would be the teal, grey emerald irises looking upon the world. He'd have brown bangs dangling just above the brow, as his curly, wavy, messy hair would blow in the wind lightly. One of his eyes would lightly go cloudy, as slight blindness has struck him in the past. Just by looking at this man, the world could tell that he'd at least be an novice lockpick, thief, pickpocket, and blackmailer. A silver tongue would rest in his mouth, metaphorically of course. A bit of wolf pelt would be hung from his waist, with large lashes through it. As if he hunted this animal with a knife.

-Character personality and traits: Tanin is a kind-hearted individual, with a cocky and arrogant aura, but intelligent in his own mind. He’s an ass, is sarcastic and comedic, and quite the smooth-talker when given the opportunity, and he’s not a stranger to talking his way out of any fights he comes across. He, by medical definition, is a kleptomaniac, however it’s unseen on his surface. He often steals useless things; shot glasses from bars, bits of metal that’d otherwise be useless from a smith, or even flowers from a garden. Of course he can resist the urge, however it may be rare.

As selfish as he is, he never forgets to take care of his family and those that need him. He’ll often skip meals so long as his wolves or ‘family’ members can eat, and would risk his life for the wealth of his clan, providing he’s built one up or was accepted into one. He’s short-tempered, and a rather angry character, as well as a bit of a depressive, however he’d give his life to defend ones he cares about. Anything to prevent another mental loss.

-Character biography: Tanin was born on the second fall of snow, out in the wilderness with his parents. He was apart of a nomadic tribe of thieves that moved once or twice every couple weeks, and raided and ambushed various caravans as they pleased. Very few rules was upon the tribe, mainly being that killing was universally outlawed unless absolutely needed. Not everyone within the tribe was a thief; some were ex-mercenaries that joined due to the promise of gold and family, and there was even a small band of mages who joined after being banished and exiled from within city walls. Children were not common around the tribe, however there were a few around.

Of course the parents were free to treat the children as they pleased, and Tanin’s mother and father of course treated him as a civilized couple would. By the age of four, Tanin was brought into basic speech and reading ‘classes’, in which he and his father read the books of nobles that were stolen in the past, proper education. Mathematics came later on down his life, at around eight or nine, in which more books were stolen from noble caravans. By this time, Tanin had a basic grasp of simple mathematics, as well as a pretty good hold of noble language as well as commonfolk speak, as he listened to others talk throughout his childhood. His reading ability and his writing ability increased by the age of eleven, and in which it slowed down from fast progression to mediocre progression, as he was then taken on nature walks with his father.

Everyone in the caravan tribe had jobs. Some were alchemists, that worked on the ailments that plague nature, as well as cuts. Some were tailors, mending cuts in clothing and other tattered apparel. Tanin’s father, and soon to be him as well, were production. Production members kept the tribe alive, through hunting as well as raiding caravans as they pleased, and even gathering for various foods if the tribe called upon it. Tanin was taught to hunt as he grew through his pre-teens as well as his teenage years, hunting with a bow for one and then developing a quirk. Tanin hated bows, as they felt like it didn’t take much skill and were bulky, however there was no other weapon suitable for hunting within the tribe, until Tanin made his own. Throughout the years Tanin learned to hunt with throwing daggers, a more suitable weapon for his size as well as his preference. By the time he was sixteen, he could nail a rabbit running at high speeds with one of his knives, with deadly accuracy. Who knows, perhaps if fate had worded his life differently he would’ve been an amazing circus act.

However, fate had other plans for him. At sixteen was also when he was drafted into his father’s raiding wing. For two years he raided caravans with his father, using his skill at picking locks to break into the locked cases within the caravans with ease, to force the caravan's to relinquish their goods. Nearing nineteen, Tanin was sent on a simple mission with his father’s wing; an Orcish caravan. Easy, providing everything went right. The day was hot, but the caravan was worth it. With only two Orcish guards and six thieves, not including Tanin and his father, they would surely rob the caravan throug swiftness as well as stealth. They’ve done it before, even, with other Orcish kin. However, this time it would be different. Everything flew like a flash, and everything that did go wrong, did. Two of the six thieves were brutally murdered with terrifying efficiency by the Orcish guards, and within moments Tanin was incapacitated by a flying blade piece shattering and being sent his way. Blinded in one eye, and bloodied, Tanin escaped from the fight and promptly collapsed. By the end of the slaughter, two more of the thieves were butchered, while the other two fled. Tanin awoke to the slaughter disorientated, as well as still blinded.

His father would lay there mutilated upon the ground, with the trailmarks of blood and caravan wheels passing down the road to brighter futures. One orc would lay dead as one could be, a large slit down his neck, however the other one was assumed to be still living. Tanin’s father was nearly cut in half, with his hand dismembered from his body. Tanin sulked over what remained of his father, sobbing in the heat for as long as he could bare, his vision blurring due to tears and blood filling his good eye. He’d lean down, taking his father’s connected hand as he’d slip off his silver and onyx wedding band, promptly slipping it on his middle finger of his left hand. With a swift and unguiled hand, he swiped a small vial of dried medicinal herbs from his father’s breast pocket. From there, Tanin would close his father’s eyes and would escape the scene. This was all his fault, somehow; he knew it. He didn’t return to camp for days, patching himself up to the best of his abilities, ripping his clothing and bandaging himself, applying some of the draught to his eye and then downing the rest, hoping it’d do some good.

When he returned to camp, after nearly a week of being exiled by his own right; both from shame and from guilt, there was nothing there. The camp was gone, and it had moved on to go follow brighter horizons. Tanin did the only thing he could do, which was escape reality and move to the nearest town to pick off beggars and lower-class men. Tanin stole and did dirtywork for nearly three years, going quiet for the last year to quickly bring down any heat levels that were upon him. Winds and luck took him this far, and perhaps even fate. It’s curious to where they’ll take him next.

-Please give us a short RP response to these two scenarios.

You’re walking around the markets at around noon. There’s a lot of people around you, still gathering their items as they prepare to shut down their many stands. Suddenly you feel a gentle lifting of your coin purse as a child graces you and soon after they take off sprinting. You have been robbed.

Tanin would look down, quickly grabbing for his coin purse and looking for the child whom nabbed his hard-stolen currency. He’d debate going after him, shaking his head lightly with a smirk as he’d watch the child scurry off, a full sprint away from the market. “Clever, Kiddo.” he’d say, turning on his heel as he’d leave the marketplace, Tanin would remain hungry for the night. He’d tuck his hands within his pockets, a smirk upon his face as he’d leave the marketplace. Perhaps that was his karma? Gain by a swift hand, you’ll surely lose by a swifter one; this was just a learning experience. The kid probably needed his coin more than he did, anyway.

You’re heading back to the city through the woods when you hear a whining coming from nearby. Upon further investigation you come across a grey-coloured wolf that appears to have its leg caught in a bear trap. Around it is three smaller lumps of fur, obviously puppies belonging to the trapped mother. Without help, they’ll all die, but wolf skins are quite valuable too, not to mention that the nearby farms suffer quite a bit from the wolf population.

He’d walk over to the beartrap, removing one of his large throwing knives from his hip as he’d walk to the whimpering, silver wolf. A beautiful specimen, truly, with a flowing pelt up until the maroon stained leg. He’d look to the little pups, also gorgeous in their own ways, as he’d gently move closer to the shewolf, extending a hand and uttering soft hushes to try to calm it down. It’d bite at him, lightly, and then would whimper a bit more, laying down with a tiny growl. He’d jolt his hand away at the nip, and then would begin to approach it closer, gently running his fingertips against her ribs. She’d jolt up once more, barking and growling, however Tanin would keep his hand there, in an attempt to calm her down. He’d look to the beartrap, her bone split due to the wound; not able to fix it himself. He’d sigh, readying his dagger.

He’d hum a soft tune, letting out a tiny song in an attempt to calm the wolf down. It’d continue to whimper hard, as he’d gently pin the animal’s head to the ground, quickly delivering a slit to it’s neck with a bit of force. It’d spaz about lightly for a few moments, shuddering and gargling, but quickly it’d be put to death. Tanin would, once assuring that the animal was dead, would skin it quickly and semi-professionally, saving all of the silver pelt and stuffing it within a burlap sack he had on his belt. He’d cut a few choice meats off of the wolf, and then would turn to the pups. He’d unhook his hood from his tunic, walking to the wolf pups briskly and placing them within the soft leather and cloth hood, taking him with him, as it would be wrong to leave them there to die.

{OOC}

Minecraft Username: Shadss

Age: 17

Definition of meta gaming: Using OOC information IC. Such as, knowing someone's name due to their chat, or something like that

Definition of power gaming: Using god-like actions, such as hitting every shot, 100% of the time.

What is your past experience in RP, Fallout or otherwise?: I've been roleplaying for 4 or so years, 6 if you count minor encounters among the web. I have a lot of experience with roleplay, and I enjoy fallout.

{IC}

Name: Sha'adzi Anlind

Nick: Shadss Anlind

Sex: Male

Age: 21

Race: Caucasian ( White )

Appearance(Physical): Shadss stands at 6'0 and weighs in at 167 pounds. He has thick, shaggy brown hair with bangs that come down to his forehead. He has various scars along his face, from fights and minor scuffs. Shadss irises are the color of diamond grey, and have tiny, light blue slivers in them.

Appearance(Clothes): Shadss wears a green-camouflage trench coat that comes down to his upper thighs. The coat itself is made of cloth and cloth, and has several pockets that adorn the front of the coat. Shadss never wears the coat buttoned up. On his hands, he wears two black finger-less leather gloves. On his left wrist he wears a gunmetal grey watch made of iron. The glass on the top of it is cracked in one spot, but it's still readable. He wears a simple pear of jeans for pants, with a thick leather belt on his waist. A large holster is attached to the belt, able to hold a large caliber handgun comfortably. The holster, when empty, remains fairly well hidden, as his trench coat most of it. On his feet are two thick leather combat boots, dyed the color of a jet. In the toe of the boot is a steel plate. The bottoms of the boots are rough and have various dents and cracks, which are meant to help maintain a grip to terrain.

Personality: Shadss is, in heart, a good person. He tries to make choices based on what is right rather than who is right. Shadss, whenever he can, will resort to speech rather than combat. Even though he doesn't like to fight, doesn't mean he isn't good at it. When he does have to resort to combat his favorite method is to use his hunting rifle, chambered with .308. However, when it he gets to close, he uses a handgun and knife, often wielded at the same time. Ever since he was young, Shadss has been fascinated with medicine, always trying to learn more about the profession.
Even though Shadss is a somewhat good person, he sometimes lets his temper control him. Shadss, when enraged, often lashes out at people, starting fights he can't finish. He doesn't care for the law that much, and sometimes goes against the martial law that hovers around certain parts of towns and the wastes. Shadss believes that all people are equal, no matter what position they have in life, whether it be a beggar or a leader. Shadss doesn't like to follow a leader, but often likes to lead groups.

Backstory: Shadss was born on October 4th, in a small shack near the outskirts of the Californian border in Oregon. The shack that Shadss was born in was apart of a small farm town full of hunters and farmers. The town was off the radar to most major clans and bandit factions around that area. Not even the legion could be assed to find the small town; maybe because they didn't care, or simply couldn't see it. Shadss was an only child, so his mother and father nursed over him as much as they could. His father focused on trying to educate Shadss, as his father could read fairly well. When Shadss was five, his mother started to take him for walks around the town, and eventually the surrounding landscape. Wildlife and animals occasionally wondered around the town, so his mother carried around a revolver on her hip for self defense.
Shadss' mother was a hunter. When Shadss turned seven, she began to expand her area she took him to. Shadss loved to walk around with his mother, and always liked to see the landscape. When his mother had to work, which was every other day, he would spend his time with his father. His father was a writer, and a farmer. Father had the ability to read, which at the time, was an uncommon skill. Shadss' father tried his best to teach Shadss how to read, and put every ounce of effort he could into Shadss' education. By the age of eight, Shadss could read English writing decently. His father attempted to raise Shadss' intelligence as much as possible in his early years. Mathematics, reading and writing, and random tidbits of information.
Shadss' mother on the other hand, had a different type of teaching. Whenever they walked, and Shadss was old enough to understand, she began to show him plants that were edible and had minor medical properties. Shadss began to get familiar with the terrain, and certain plants that scattered the landscape. As Shadss aged, his knowledge expanded. At the age of ten, Shadss and his mother had explored a one mile radius from the town, and he learned basic mathematics and fluent English reading with his father. The age of ten was also when he had to start help mend the farms, or learn to hunt. Shadss chose how to hunt, as it meant working with his mother. His father picked him up a .22 Kruger long rifle, and a few rounds. It was relatively cheap, and would pay for itself is Shadss turned out good with the gun. Two weeks after he turned ten, he went out on a hunting trip with his mother.
His mother took him to a local hunting spot near a slightly irradiated lake. Geckos liked to wander around that area. His mother drew her Hunting rifle and lined up her sights onto one of the geckos. Shadss attempted to mimic his mother's actions, and did with a relatively decent success. His mother pulled back on the trigger, and a bullet flew through the air. It hit one of the geckos in the chest. This startled the small pack of the geckos, making Shadss' shot even more difficult. Shadss pulled back on the trigger, and a tiny .22 bullet split the air, and hit a gecko in the arm. This made all the geckos sprint away, including the one he shot. He slightly sighed. The two went down to the pool, and his mother pulled out a buck knife. She told Shadss to look, and, slower than normal, began to skin the gecko. Shadss watched the gecko be gutted, and flinched every time a new cut was made. His mother lightly chuckled at his reactions.
"Better luck next time, boy." She said as she hauled the gecko's body to back to the town, walking along Shadss' side.
Shadss went out to hunt with his mother every other day, as that's when she worked. This ruined his and his father's teaching schedule. Shadss' father attempted to teach him every day at the end of work. This gave them less time together, which meant even less time to learn. Shadss' learning was slowed, but not stopped. By the age of twelve, he learned how to fluently write in English, and expanded his knowledge of Mathematics. When Shadss turned twelve, however, he started to put more and more effort into hunting with his mother. His little .22 wouldn't kill anything in one shot, let alone a gecko. The rifle was semi-automatic, so he eventually learned how to tap the trigger twice, firing two shots with retaliative accuracy in close a proximity of time. Halfway through the year, he bagged his first gecko. After watching his mother skin gecko after gecko over the years, he understood how to skin it. He still butchered the meat, and nearly ruined the hide, but it was the start of a great skill.
From that day on, he got better and better at hunting. He began to learn how to track the footprints of animals, and at the end of the year he was decent at it. By the age of fourteen, he knew how to track decently and how to skin a gecko without damaging the hide or to meat too much. He still needed his mother's assistance in the hunts, though. Back at home, his father taught him everything he knew about Math, and started to spend money on books. Shadss spent his learning time, learning WITH his father, rather than from. His mother would often come home to the two sitting on the sofa, with books in hand and several pieces of paper with pencil scribbles on them laying on the coffee table. His mother still taught Shadss about certain plants that he could eat in desperation, and where to find somewhat clean water. At the age of fifteen, for his birthday, his father bought him a new rifle. A bolt action rifle, that cased 5.56 rounds. This was the caliber that his mother had, but a different model of rifle.
When he turned fifteen, he also began to talk to the people in the town more and more. He eventually began to hang out with the wrong crowd, often sneaking out to the bar just to hear local jabber. Shadss never really got into drinking, didn't want to waste the money on it. He did, however, learn a bad habit from the bar. A shady man started to talk to Shadss, and Shadss, being the charismatic person he was, started talking back. He and the man talked about what they did for hobbies, and when the man told Shadss what he did for fun and in his free time, Shadss' ears perked up. The man picked locks in his free time.
"Lock Picking? Isn't that... Illegal?" Shadss asked.
"I pick my own locks. Locks I make, and find, for fun." The man said.
The man turned out to be the local locksmith. Every house and building had a fairly decent lock, something that an armature thief wouldn't be able to break through, and they were all made from him. Shadss was curious, and excited. The man looked into Shadss' eyes, and chuckled. He finished his drink, and then took a napkin from the dispenser. He took out a small pen, and wrote three numbers on the napkin. 2.6.5. He passed the napkin to Shadss.
"You look interested. Go there after work, and I can teach you a few things." He said and then walked out of the bar. Shadss took the napkin and put it in his pocket.
The next day, after the hunt, Shadss walked over to the man's home. He knocked on the door, and shortly after the noise entered the home, the metal slide on the door opened. Two eyes popped out of the slide, looked at Shadss, and then the slide closed. The metal door then opened, and lead to a room. The room was large, dimly lit, and had several workbenches with various gears, tumblers, and locks on the surface of the tables. The man welcomed Shadss as he slowly walked into the house. The man closed the door behind him and led Shadss over to a table. The table had several locks and bobby pins scattered around the top of the bench. Screwdrivers, tension wrenches and small knives sat next to the pins. Shadss looked over the top of the table, and examined the tools. The man sat at the opposite end of the table, and set a magazine on the table. The man pointed at the small magazine, and told Shadss to read it. Shadss picked up the magazine, and slowly sat down on a stool near the bench.
The magazine was titled "Locksmith Weekly", and had hundreds of pictures of locks. Shadss flipped through the pages, studying every picture for a brief moment, and then turning the picture. Halfway through the magazine, The man took the magazine away from Shadss. He opened the magazine to page 26, and then handed the mag back to Shadss. Shadss looked at the page. "What opens a lock?" the title read. The page had several pictures of the inside of a lock, labeling the tumblers, picks, and gears. Shadss began to study the pictures, and then read the captions next to the locks. One of the pictures was a lock cut in half, with a key going through it, pushing up all of the pins. Shadss set the magazine on the table and pointed at the picture.
"Is that how you open a lock?" Shadss asked.
The man slowly nodded and then began to tinker with one of his locks. He stuck a silver key into the lock, and then turned the key. The lock made a satisfying clicking noise. The man took the key out of the lock and stuck it in his back pocket. He reached under the workbench, and then took out a bobby pin and tension wrench, and then slid the tools over to Shadss along with the lock. The man crossed his arms.
"Try it, use the pictures as guidance." He said, and watched Shadss' hands.
Shadss swallowed hard, and picked up the tools. He looked at the picture, and then back to the lock. Shadss jammed the tension wrench into the keyhole, and then slid the bobby pin in the small opening above the wrench. He slowly slid the bobby pin in and out, feeling for pins. As he raked his pin back and fourth, he began to hear the pins in the locks slowly click open, and then fall back into place. He dug around in the lock with the bobby pin, feeling around, and attempting to hold a pin or two open at once. He looked at the magazine every time he felt a pin, examining the pictures. Soon enough, nearly an hour passed and nearly no progress was made. Shadss sighed, and set the lock and pin on the table. The man looked outside at the now setting sun. He looked back at Shadss and the equipment.
"Take the tools home. You can practice with the pins." He said, and slowly got up from the stool.
The man pushed the stool in, and walked out of the work room into another room. He opened the door, walked in, and then closed the door behind him. Shadss looked down at the locks and bobby pins. He slowly picked up the equipment and the magazine, and then dropped the materials into his pockets. He walked out of the home, and slowly trotted home, excited spilling out of his face. For the next few days, he fumbled with the lock and the magazine, and even brought the tools with him when he hunted with his mother. When he and his father were reading together, he'd sometimes glance over the magazine and mess around with the lock. His parents slowly gained suspicion, but never acquired a concern. After about a week, in his room lying on his bed, he attempted to unlock the lock, and after ten minutes, the slightly familiar clicking sound came from the lock's pins. Shadss' eyes widened, and a grin appeared on his face.
The next day, he walked back over to the locksmith's home after work. He showed the locksmith the lock, with self praise on his face. The locksmith mockingly applauded, and took the lock from him. The smith walked into another room, and then returned with another lock. The lock was a darker grey, and looked more like the locks on the doors in town. He slowly handed him the lock telling him this one would be more difficult. Shadss examined the lock, and then took it from his hands.
"Why more difficult?" Shadss asked.
"That lock is standard issue, five pins. The lock I gave you was a training lock, it only had three pins." The man said and turned back to the workbench.
"Good luck." He said and returned to his tinkering.
Shadss sighed and took the lock home. For an entire day, he sat in his room and just examined the the lock, slowly feeling around for the pins. Days passed of him just feeling around and attempting to pick the lock, but to no avail. When the days slowly approached a week, he began to get closer and closer to picking the lock. By the end of the week, the lock was opened with a bobby pin and tension wrench. Shadss took the lock to the smith the next day, and handed the lock to him. The smith examined the lock, making sure it wasn't opened with a key. The smith nodded with approval.
For the next year, Shadss started to spend more and more time with the smith. Every other night after Shadss was finished with hunting and learning with his father, he would trot down to the smith's house in order to learn more about locks. At home, he begged his father for books on locks, and started to work harder for money to buy the books. Shadss' father humored Shadss and bought him a book on locks. He even browsed through the book from time to time, learning about his son's hobby. The pages were torn, and tattered just like all other books, but they were better kept together than most.
When Shadss turned sixteen, he had learned quite a bit about locks. He wasn't an expert or a master of picking, but he knew his way around. His mother had disliked the hobby at first, but it slowly grew on her. Eventually, she approved of the skill, as long as Shadss didn't get into trouble with it. As the months passed, he began to get more and more into picking, slowly achieving greater and greater skill levels. Life was good... for a while, anyway.
Halfway through the year, all that was good was destroyed by one event. Shadss and his mother went hunting farther out that normal. Geckos were fine, but his mother wanted to bag something greater, something worth a bit more money. Shadss was excited to go off and explore more land, and possibly bag a big animal. His mother had a plan and an idea of what she wanted to bring home. She wanted to go to a brahmin pack and take home a large one. Shadss agreed, as brahmin we'rent aggressive, and fresh brahmin meat could go for quite the price. The two walked for nearly half an hour to get to a location where wild brahmin wondered around. A small pack of the radiated cows walked around the desert floor, eating small plants and tuffs of grass. Shadss and his mother got as close as they could without alerting the horde. Shadss mother slowly raised her rifle and aimed at one of the animals. Her cross hairs lined up with a brahmin's shoulder. She took a deep breath, held it, re-adjusted her aim, and fired. A rifle round split through the air and struck the brahmin in the shoulder. The brahmin dropped, dead on the desert floor.
Shadss and his mother ran down to the brahmin, satisfied with their kill. Shadss' mother bent down, took out a bag and a Bowie knife, and then began to carve and gut the brahmin. Shadss turned his head to watch the brahmin horde sprint off in the opposite direction. He lightly smirked. He set down his rifle on a rock and then crouched next to his mother. He helped clean out the brahmin and wrap up the meat. The brahmin was large, possibly the alpha male. It took five minutes for the two of them to even get close to finishing the brahmin. As the two were almost finished, a horrifying sound pierced the air. A loud growl, from a large animal. Shadss and his mother slowly looked up to see a Yoa-Gui. It's fur was jet black, and it's eyes were a blood red.
"M-mom...?" Shadss asked as his eyes set on the Yoa-Gui.
"Shadss... Get your rifle..." His mother said, and slowly drew the .44 from her hip.
Shadss slowly crept from the brahmin over to the rock where his gun lied. He slowly picked up the rifle, and cocked the bolt. A 5.56 rifle round set itself in the chamber. The sound must have set the monster off, as it got on all fours and sprinted at the two. Shadss raised his rifle, aimed down the sights and focused on the Yoa-Gui. His mother raised the .44 and pulled the hammer down. She unleashed a .44 round from the magnum. The bullet split through the air, and blew off the Yoa-Gui's ear. Shadss fired a shot, it penetrated the air, and struck the Yoa-Gui in the chest. Neither of the shots seemed to effect the Yoa-Gui, as it continued to sprint at the two. It actually seemed angrier. Shadss' mother pulled down on the hammer, and fired another shot. The shot hit the Yoa-Gui in the chest, but it was too late. The Yoa-Gui tackled Shadss' mother, sending the magnum flying into the air, and sliding across the desert floor. Shadss cocked the bolt back on his rifle, and aimed at the Yoa-Gui. He pulled on the trigger, and a click emitted from the gun. Both of his eyes widened, and his mouth slowly opened.
Shadss threw his rifle to the ground, and ran over to the .44. He picked up the magnum, pulled the hammer down, and fired a bullet without aiming. The bullet struck the Yoa-Gui in the shoulder. It turned it's head toward Shadss and focused it's eyes on him. Blood dripped from the monster's mouth and claws. Shadss was petrified, and in anger and horror, cocked the hammer back and aimed at the Yoa-Gui's head. The monster charged at Shadss. Shadss pulled the trigger back, and fired a bullet into the Yoa-Gui's brain. The bullet busted out of the other end of the monster's head in an explosion of brain matter and blood. The monster fell, and slid into Shadss feet. Shadss threw the magnum to the floor and ran over to his mother's side.
He dropped to his knees and held his mother in his arms. Her throat was cut, and her stomach ripped open. Blood spilled out of the open wounds, and she quivered with pain. Shadss began to cry at the sight of his mother. He began to slowly mutter as he rocked back and fourth with her in his arms. Blood began to pour out of her mouth, as she tried to speak. She gargled out the words.
"I love you, son..." She said, and gripped his hand.
Shadss looked down at his mother, and slowly set her on the ground. Shadss slowly stood and walked over to the Yoa-Gui's corpse. He bent down and picked up the .44 magnum and walked back over to his mother's bleeding and dying body. He cocked the hammed back, and pointed the magnum at her head. His mother looked up at him, closed her eyes and slowly nodded. Shadss closed his eyes, turned away, and fired the .44 bullet into his mother's head. Tears pooled in his eyes. He pointed the .44 in the air, and fired off the remaining two shells. Shadss looked down at his mother, a simple, small entry wound between her eyes was all that could have been seen. Shadss bent down, and covered the hole with his mother's bangs.
Shadss slowly gathered rocks and dirt, as he began to bury his mother. He dug a shallow grave with his hands, and then set his mother in it. He covered the hole with the dirt, and then began to place rocks and twigs and various plants on the hole, covering it as much as possible. He set a large rock near the head of the grave, and leaned her rifle next to the grave. Shadss emptied the magnum and scattered the shells near the grave, and then set the magnum near the stock of the rifle. Shadss looked over the grave, as a single tear fell from his cheek. He turned around, picked up his rifle and slowly began to walk home. The walk seemed to be a hundred times slower. His eyes burned from the tears that seemed to drown his sight. By the time got home, the moon hovered over the landscape, and painted the desert ground with an ebony shadow. Shadss slowly opened the door to his house and walked in, soaked in blood. His father's eyes widened and his jaw dropped to the floor. Shadss face was red from tears. He tossed his rifle to the ground, and slowly walked up stairs to his room. Shadss fell asleep in his clothes, and heard his father weep for the entire night.
The next few years were hard on Shadss. His father became an alcoholic, spending most of his money at the bar. He stopped learning from his father and going to the smith's house. Hunts were all the more lonely, and he often spent days out alone in the desert just to get away from everyone. Shadss blamed himself for what happened to his mother. He started to study medicine, using what she taught him over the years to help people in the future, to prevent a repeat of what happened. When Shadss turned eighteen, his life was taken out yet again. His father's liver gave out from the alcoholism. His father died in his sleep one night, as Shadss was watching over him. No doctor could have saved him. Shadss attended his father's funeral along with many of his friends, and the locksmith. Shadss set his rifle on his father's grave, along with a book that they never finished.
Shadss took all the money from the house, and bought a new rifle. A Remington 700, .308 with a wood grain finish. The rifle had a scope on it, meant for long range hunting trips. It was one of the most expensive guns in the shop. Shadss slowly suited up, taking as long as he could to finally leave. He loaded up, with a pack full of food and water, his rifle, and his mother's Bowie knife. He left the town in search for a new life when he was nineteen. Shadss has been wondering around for the last four years. Time heals all wounds, as he has gotten past the death of his family. He's regained his sense of humor, and his ability to talk to people, and now he wonders the wastes, alone. Who knows where his next step will take him...
Shadss ended up in New York due to meeting up with a trade caravan, composed of hunters and trappers. They traveled across the land, from the brink of Idaho to Michigan, where Shadss left the group to go to go to New York, a place unheard of him until then. He started to head to New York, reaching the big apple within months from leaving the city of Lansing.
(( Sorry this is a bit short, as well as if there's loop holes and what not. My bad! ))


Tunnel Snakes RULEEEE!