Skippy

Name: Brad Parker

Blood type: A-

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Nicknames: Bogan, Kicker

Pastimes: Drinking, socialising, brawling

Scorecard:

Physical        

Combat skill

Psychological    Strength                   4/5 Accuracy                             1/5 Intelligence                      2/5 Endurance               5/5 Reflexes                              4/5 Bravery                             4/5 Agility                        3/5 Weapons versatility          1/5 Resilience                         4/5 Constitution             4/5 Battlecraft                          2/5 Wisdom                            1/5 5=Exceptional 4=Specialist 3=Trained 2=Average 1=Poor Overall role: Trained Soldier

[https://i.imgur.com/VapQf3w.png]

Bio: Born Australia 1991 November 30. A happy idiot from the moment he could talk Skippy has always been an irrepressible force of nature. With a booming voice and hyperactive personality nothing could keep him grounded. Even in his early primary schooling he found himself constantly reprimanded for his wild stunts.

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Always wearing an injury of some kind his friends supported his antics always ensuring something was bandaged on him. In his secondary schooling he quickly became ensnared in underage drinking which drove him to greater challenges risking his life at some points for the rush of the moment.

Leaving school early he travelled the country working in outback stations becoming a self proclaimed jackaroo. Working under the relentless sun or in shearing sheds turned ovens he found the work satisfying while providing for himself. Looking out over the vast paddocks as the sun set he found himself missing that rush from his childhood though.

So in classic form he took off overseas to try something crazy. Backpacking through unstable countries at the age of 20 he quickly found himself in the company of the wrong people who respected his addiction to danger. Finding himself amongst warriors he made friends with various soldiers of fortune across the globe before trying his hand at soldiering himself at the age of 21.

Under fire in his first engagement with mortar fire saturating the field Skippy felt a rush he never did before. Something so terrifying and surreal that could never be outdone by any of the rushes he’d had before. Charging into battle alongside friends with a sense of comradery never experienced either he went above and beyond as a shock trooper taking on tasks far too dangerous for himself let alone his comrades.

With a cool head under fire always looking for the rush of combat Skippy became a highly renowned soldier earning his nickname from how eager he appeared charging into the depths of a firefight. With every engagement his prowess under fire grew allowing him to outperform all but the most hardened fighters in close quarters.

Finding himself fighting alongside another team of mercenaries he found himself under proper leadership providing him with battlefield duties perfect for his role. He quickly found himself officially apart of the team and serving alongside them across the globe always being pushed to greater heights.

After multiple engagements Skippy earned the nickname Kicker from his new friends due to his apparent disregard for the danger he was presented with. Every engagement was just another rush to him, another challenge to push himself. Plateauing for awhile he sat comfortable in his profession for years until the contract that took them into the exclusion zone.

The second he stepped foot on the cursed soil something ate away at his mind. Something subvert but definitely there. Every engagement was accompanied by something he’d never felt before, the fear of death. It was unexplainable though unshakable. Every shot that cracked by could be the last, every swipe could be the fatal blow.

Unable to clear his mind he began to lose what made him an exceptional shock trooper in the first place. Beginning to see his performance declining he came closer and closer to the death he feared in every battle he fought. With time even the rush of combat he loved began to be replaced by the palpable fear of falling over the edge.

While keeping up appearances as an irrepressible force his will to fight eroded to only wanting to protect his squadmates from the dangers of the breach. Taking point selflessly putting himself forward he forced himself forward even with his hesitation. He knew though with every day that went by the odds were slowly turning against him. The only hope that remained was escape.