Radioactive Park South Park RP

IN CHARACTER:

Name: Devin “Dogpoo/Dogtooth/Dev” Petuski - I am fully aware that it isn’t his name, but I can’t take Dogpoo as a name seriously (There will be something in ‘bio’ about that)  Age: 24 years old Gender (pronouns): Cis male, he/him Sexuality: Pansexual? Bisexual? Who knows! Occupation/Role: Owns a butchery type deal. Does alright taxidermy on the side. Goes out hunting regularly.  Location/Faction: Centennial City Personality:  - Devin is at first glance, quiet and introverted. Deciding that, since he lives in the ’big,scary city’, he would rather be a loner and not speak to many people outside work circumstances. This, combined with trust issues is not a fun combo. While he does hate it sometimes, he knows that is what keeps him safe. When he does speak to people however, he does it with the utmost respect and manners. Having manners might just make someone’s day, after all. He always tries to have a very positive outlook, or well, as positive as one could be in the wasteland. Always walking with a smile on his face, but don’t be fooled into thinking that he is naïve or gullible. He is very quick to realize when he’s been lied to. - He can get very protective of who and what he cares about, to the extent that he’d rather die trying than give up what’s being protected. - He keeps his promises and stays loyal to those who stay loyal to him, until given reason not to be. - He has literally no patience for snobby/bitchy types. It is the only time he doesn’t stick to being friendly. If a snobby type enters the butchery, don’t be surprised if he tells you to fuck off.  - Unless you’ve personally hurt him a lot, he will not hold a grudge. He will shrug it off and, you guessed it, not care.  - A brave bastard. He will not even flinch if you pull a gun or knife on him (Unless you’re, as an example, a CC military type). Stupid brave, to put it simply.  - Has slight abandonment issues, but hey, can’t be abandoned if there’s nobody to abandon you. Bio (It’s not up to Gregory’s app’s standard I apologise x-x): Born and raised in Centennial city, where he still lives to this day.

At the time of his birth, Devin was nameless. His parents, back then, were completely clueless on what to name their baby boy. Like most wasteland parents they feared that he wouldn’t manage to live long. That, even when they were living inside the safe walls of the city, danger would still swoop in and take him from them. So, he was simply referred to as ’son’ and ’boy’ to start with.

His parents ran a butchery in the city, a surprisingly successful one at that. One night, when Devin was barely a year old still, his father offered to watch him while his mother was out buying a few things for the house. His father, somewhat careless, left him to crawl around and play with some things while he was busy preparing what would be sold the next day. Devin took interest in the family’s dog, who often stood by in case he could possibly get meat scraps. When the dog walked off to go outside for…business, Dev followed close by. By the time his father realized he was missing, he was just…sitting outside, playing with, you guessed it, the dog’s poop. Can’t really blame him for it, he was just a little kid. A baby. That earned him the nickname ’Dogpoo’. Originally his mother was against it, it was a very silly nickname to go by, but she was reasoned with to accept it. Said that it was only a temporary nickname. They were still unsure whether he would live past the age of 5. Nothing personal or against him, they loved him very much, but with the amount of dangers in the wasteland it was a possibility that he would die young.

That was not the case.

Through the years, to his parents’ surprise, he managed to stay alive. From a young age, he showed interest in following in his parents’ footsteps. So, they taught him everything they knew. Proper hunting, skinning, knowing what cuts are used for what, what to dispose of and watch out for, even things like sewing, reading and a hint of writing. He also learned how to cook a variety of foods from a variety of items, not only meat. He avoided joining the CC’s ranks as a guard or mercenary, rather slowly started helping more and more around the butchery. 

It took him until the age of about 11 or 12 to realize what he is called, and what it was. At 16, he also figured out that his parents weren’t sure that he would live as long as he did, which is why he didn’t really have a proper name. He hated being known only by a dumb nickname purely for his mistake as a baby. He was being mocked for it behind his back, he was sure of it. So he slowly began reading up and figuring out what he would name himself. He asked for suggestions. Wrote down possible names. Anything. If people asked about his name, about ’Dogpoo’, he would say that it was misheard. That it was actually ’Dogtooth’. He stuck with that every time he was asked. While out hunting on his own for the first time, he had his first run in with something that would not die easily by a few shots from a hunting rifle. He wasn’t afraid of it, rather cautious and curious. It wasn’t until he was pinned down, blood streaming down his face from being clawed that he realized he made a mistake getting close to it. He barely made it out alive, and if it wasn’t for the beast seeing other humans messing with it’s nest, he probably would have died right then and there. He still has the scars.  Another time, not too soon after that, he experienced radiation for the first time ever. He could feel it damaging him almost, but he would not be defeated by it. He didn’t want to become a ghoul either from making stupid decisions. This was where he started putting together gasmasks of his own design from old, broken ones he had bought, traded for or found. One was based of a dog, similar to the family dog years back. The other was based off what he called a ’tusk-beast’, a weird animal he saw in form of a broken, ruined statue in the city. Those would protect him to an extent, and hide his face.

Fast forward to 2279, almost 2280. One day, Dogpoo was left in charge of the butchery for the day, while his parents went out for their weekly hunting trip. It was a quiet day, not too much going on in terms of sales. He spent his time removing the guts from the baby gecko who would become the taxidermized mascot of sorts for the place, Steven. It started getting later and later, but rather than fearing the worst, Dogpoo accepted that his parents had possibly gotten lost, or had decided to camp out for the night. He made a promise to himself that he would keep running the family business, rather than closing it for the time being. He knew that they would be proud of him for it. Only recently, a few months back to be exact, he took the day to make it official, that he was named Devin, that nobody could argue. Not even his parents.

Up until this day, though, he is still waiting for their return. Not as Dogpoo Petuski, but as Devin Petuski.

IN CHARACTER: name: Wendy Testaburger 

age ( please check masterlist for age info ): 23 

gender ( pronouns ): She/her 

sexuality: Bisexual 

occupation/role (Do they work a job within New South Park? Are they a raider? A mercenary? Etc.): High ranking member of the CC 

location/faction(Check the About page for factions! Feel free to be creative!) :The CC, undercover temporarily at The Legion

 personality: Wendy portrays herself as more level-headed and mature than her peers. However, she tends to have a short temper, and if pushed far enough, will usually lash out at those who tend to butt heads with her. Her anger can usually blind her, pushing her to limits that contrast her otherwise sweet and likeable personality. Due to her liberal views, Wendy frequently comes into conflict with those who demean her for such. While choosing to resolve conflict with a reasonable debate and explanation, she will not hesitate to engage in violence to prove worthy of her high rank within the factions. She stands strongly by her beliefs, and respects others.. to a certain extent. She has a keen interest in fighting, and has dedicated a chunk of her life into strengthening herself fit for protection and/or battle. Despite this being a typically ‘masculine’ desire from life, she doesn’t shy away from enjoying things branded as ‘feminine’. Gender roles? What are those? A kind exterior, yet is still cautious and wary of new people. You can never be too trusting nowadays. She will go to extensive lengths to protect the few she cares about, all in the fight for a better future.

 bio ( at least a paragraph explaining current character situation & any important elements of their past ): Wendy grew up in the safety of the New South Park walls, but always had witnessed the horror stories of the foreign factions that surrounded - more specifically, their mistreatment of most residents. However, not all were bad, as one had particularly caught her interest, and piqued her desire to be apart of something bigger than herself. The Centennial City, with its idealism’s of equality and it’s flourishing government and economy, was something a young girl like herself could only fantasize about at the time. In her late-teens, Wendy had vowed to prove herself as a vulnerable asset to the faction located in Denver, and it wasn’t long until a short trek had her wound up at its gigantic, almost heavenly, gates. It was like a dystopian future, and nothing like the one she had grown up accustomed to. So much larger and modernized than that of New South Park, and definitely a place she found herself fitting right in. Wendy was a strong, wise-minded fighter, and it didn’t take long for her peers and superiors to take notice on her abilities. The girl was continuing to grow into a string, authoritative figure, and continued to work her way up the hierarchy into the higher ranks. She was a well-known face around the city, and chose to use said power in an attempt to improve society to the best of her abilities. It wasn’t until one day, she was entrusted with a task that was enough to make even the bravest of souls falter for a moment. The Centennial City had been keeping a close eye on their surrounding factions in order to ensure the safety of their own, and none proved to be a threat. All except for one. The Legion. It’s cold and sexist sense of living, was something that strictly contrasted against the CC’s own beliefs. They strove to bring justice, and save as many innocent souls from the harsh reality they were forced to face on the daily.

Of course, there was only one person they knew would have enough balls to take on the challenge; and that was Wendy herself, who complied with a strong sense of determination. The only problem? She had to go undercover in order to gain the trust of the higher-ups at The Legion in order for the plan to work. And thus, Wendyl was born. It wasn’t hard for Wendy to pass for a man, with her short, choppy hair and toned figure that was mostly masked by the right style of loose clothing. Even her voice, whilst she usually kept quiet, was able to be lowered the right amount to make for a convincing male. Most of the men at The Legion were too dimwitted to even comprehend a ploy as great as this one - no woman would ever go to such lengths, nor were they able to reach a high rank in today’s society. They were merely breeding toys, right? Haha, how sorely mistaken they were. Gaining their trust was one struggle, but it was what was to come after that had been achieved that really managed to challenge Wendy(l). With her increasing status and strength, her presence became more acknowledged throughout the faction. Whilst the other member’s actions made her sick to her stomach, her focus was mainly set on saving as many women as she could from being used in such a degrading manner. The men allowed ‘Wendyl’ in on their revolting activities, her having to witness things that no human should ever have to. But it wasn’t until the breeding games begun, that her plans could fully kick into action. With each woman she was given to ‘procreate’ with, Wendy would help aid them in their escape to freedom, set them on their way with bare essentials with the directions back to the CC. Yet, as naive as the men seemed to be, they weren’t completely brain-dead. The women were going missing one by one, lessening their fun, but heightening their suspicions. It wasn’t until the number had barely reached double digits that they eventually caught on. A traitor was among their midst, and everyone knew what happened to traitors in The Legion. Wendy had to get out of there. Her head was at stake, and their thirst for her blood was so animalistic that she wasn’t even going to chance a fight. She had to get out of there, and fast. It was one thing that she had betrayed their trust, but if it were to be revealed she was a woman? ..She doesn’t even want to imagine such consequences. And so, she ran. She sprinted as far as her legs could take her in the dead of night without looking back as a manhunt began. Where she ended up was a thought that hadn’t even entered her mind.

 headcanons ( optional, just an extra space to play around ):

 - A well-known face within the CC, yet her status remains currently unknown to the rest of the factions.

 - Since going on the run, it seems as if her existence has been erased from the world completely as she keeps a low profile. 

 - Has a large cloak with a hood, used to mask her features from any of her hunters. 

 - Chopped all her hair off, it used to be kept in a messy bun, but it would be more practical to rid of it completely. It’s grown out since, and is now a shaggy bob that barely brushes against her shoulder blades. 

IN CHARACTER:

Name: Gregory ??? (Of Yardale) - Something in headcanons’ll explain why it’s ??? rather than an actual surname Age: 23 years old Gender (pronouns): Cis male, he/him Sexuality: Panromantic demisexual Occupation/Role: Bounty hunter, but can also do some spy work for the right price. He is also up to track people/items down, if required.  Location/Faction: New South Park, but often goes to Centennial City for work Personality: While he appears awfully confident (and in some cases arrogant), Gregory lacks social skills in some departments. This can make him seem impolite or rude to some, even when he means well. Despite having a lot of patience, he is also quite stubborn and ambitious, and will thus not hesitate to argue about what he strongly believes in. He isn’t afraid to get is hands dirty if the reward from it is decent, but don’t expect him to go strangle some innocent fool for calling you ugly.

When it comes to bounties, he is a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ type, unless the target has information that could be considered useful. Then it is a ’ask first, shoot, then ask again’ situation. This has caused him problems in the past, especially when the bounty specifically states to bring the target back alive. He is quite smart, and knows how to lie his way out of a lot of situations. He has also learned to not fear death, as 'fearing death’ isn’t a trait someone in his line of work should have. Especially not when living in a world where every day is a game of ’Will I get shot or stabbed by a stranger today?’.

If he has the time of day, he can be quite caring towards others. If not busy with work or getting ready to head off to do work, he’s up to help with most problems. No matter how big or small.  Bio (Note - I may have gone a bit overboard with the bio. I apologise): Gregory is your typical wastelander. Brought into this world in some small, rundown town on whatever’s left of the coast of New California, with only luck keeping him alive long enough to be here now. 

His parents were alright people, according to him. His mother, who he saw as the sweetest person alive, struggled with a bit of a gambling addiction, which was unfortunate, but she was getting help from a Followers of the apocalypse member who also lived in town. His dad wanted to become a boxing champion, like the ones read about in old, pre-war magazines. It’s what kept conversations at the dinner table interesting.

He was taught to read and write, properly shoot and defend himself, to track and hunt, even a little bit of first aid. All things that would prove useful when he would one day go out on his own. From what his parents told him, he was almost afraid of that - Going out on his own and into the world one day. The world was a scary place, full of dangers that could end his life in mere seconds if it didn’t torture him first. He hated even thinking about it. So, to take his mind off of it, he spent his days learning about various types of guns - How they worked, what ammo they took, what they were used for. It was a hobby of his he spent quite some time on when he wasn’t being taught certain skills, playing with the other kids in town or doing some errands for his parents.

This was until he turned 19.

A few months into 2276, he woke up to his dad telling him to gather his things as quickly as possible. Gregory thought that the town was under attack or that there were threats of some destructive storm coming. Why else would his father act the way he did?  Out on the road to what seemed like nowhere, his mom explained to him that there wasn’t a threat of any kind. They were on their way to New Reno for 'New beginnings in the biggest little town in the world’. When his dad went for a drink at the town’s pub, he met and spoke to a courier that supposedly went through there for a delivery. When the courier talked about the town, everything it has and the current situation, his dad only heard partially between the ruckus going on in the pub - Talk of big casinos, working phones, the place Jet originates from and of course, the Jungle gym, a gym and boxing ring. He also spoke of 'a lot of fights’ and it was assumed that it was referring to the ring, when in reality it was not the case. New Reno might have it’s wonderous casinos and 'escorts’ as far as the eye an see, but it was also known for the violent fights and rivalries between the owners of the casinos. Anyone who wished to live there would have to join one of the 'crime families’ to survive or face the consequences. Neither Greg nor his parents knew this, of course. To them, this would be a town of opportunity, much more than the other town ever was. It felt like history was repeating itself once more. His father spent most of the day at the Jungle gym, and sometimes he would join him there to train - to be strong, flexible, fit - even when he was sure that the place was rigged to hell in favor of long-time participants against newbies. His mother spent most of her day at casinos. She said that she was over her addiction, and that it was purely to keep herself busy. That she could stop any time she wanted to easily. Gregory was thus by himself most of his days, again. Difference was, rather than playing with the other town kids, he did small, random jobs around town. From delivering mail, to convincing people to buy certain guns at New Reno Arms, to stripping cars for parts at the Chop shop. It wasn’t what he expected he would do, but he was getting paid so that’s what mattered most. One day, while out and about on a job for the pharmacy (mostly just taking a few people their medicine and drugs), he got caught up in a shootout between the Wrights and to his surprise, the Bishops. He did not want to get involved, but when his mother was dragged out of Shark club casino by one of the Wright goons, it got personal. No hesitation, no regret, no second thoughts. A clear shot from a distance ended the shootout right there.  A mysterious man, who watched it all go down from the shadows, approached Gregory afterwards. He told him that he would make a perfect bounty hunter type, and that he had been looking for an apprentice for a long time. He asked him if he would work for him, and while slightly hesitant at first to trust this sketchy man, Greg eventually agreed. His parents, however (even if his mother was thankful that her son saved her life), did not. They wanted him to make a name for himself without getting killed by some lowlife in the process. Did he listen?  Of course not.  While his parents were out doing their thing, he went to do some work for the mysterious man. It started off with some easy, typical raider types that needed to vanish, but eventually got to the point where he had to sneak around and do quick stealth kills. This was better than any other job he took before, and definitely paid better. The year Gregory turned 22, fights started breaking out more and more between his parents for a variety of reasons, most including drug addictions or getting frisky with casino escorts. By now, he was officially considered a bounty hunter, with some tracking and spy work included. He complained to the mysterious man, his boss, about how his parents were driving him mad with their fights and that lead to him offering Greg two jobs, both a way out of New Reno. He explained that it was no surprise. It’s what happened to a lot of people, if they didn’t get shot on the first day in the casino families’ gun fights or addicted to Jet within the first week. His choices were to either go after a big, long time bounty that lead to Vegas, and where he would then work under a man with the surname Richter. Alternatively, a different bounty - A Legionary, or to be more specific, a Veteran decanus, that had fled to Colorado after a battle with the NCR in a place called Raven’s ravine went sour. If going after this particular bounty, he would be an independent bounty hunter, only working for himself and nobody else. Gregory, knowing some of the stories regarding the Mojave, decided that he would rather take the longer road and head to the last known sighting of the other target - near a small settlement by the name of New South Park.

IN CHARACTER:

name: Rebecca Mae Cotswolds age: Forever trapped in a 25 year old body. Has been alive since before the war.

gender ( pronouns ): Female, she/her

sexuality: Bi

occupation/role: Legion slave. Previously an extremely respected pre-war scientist who specialized in botany and medicine.

location/faction (Check the About page for factions! Feel free to be creative!): While you could technically say she’s part of The Legion, this is less because she’s genuinely loyal and moreso she feels she owes them a debt.

personality: Rebecca is a quiet, timid woman, with a near inability to meet peoples’ eyes. She tends to let other people do the speaking for her, as doing so tends to be a spot of discomfort. She is, however, extremely intelligent, able to find the solutions to most issues with ease so long as they apply to book knowledge rather than street knowledge. She is aware of how frail her body is, and as such tends to hide behind people stronger than her. Due to the effects of radiation, beauveria mordicana and the legion’s actions, she has been rendered mentally unstable- something she hides behind a thin veil of lacking education in the social aspects. She tends to wear things that obscure her face, as the sight of it is something she is terrified of.

bio: Rebecca was born a good amount of time before the bombs fell, in the original South Park. An extremely gifted child, she was homeschooled by her parents, where she would advance in grades extremely quickly. She was in the later years of high school by the time she reached eleven, recognized by the state as a genius. She continued her studies, getting multiple degrees before reaching adulthood. She was accepted into Vault 22 to assist with the ongoing agricultural research shortly before the bombs descended, where she would remain for the following few years. As beauveria mordicana begun to infect the vault, she was quick to leave after the first couple deaths. Although already carrying the spores, she was unaware of this fact until she started feeling herself become ill. Luckily- or, perhaps, unluckily- she managed to find herself in a place with heavy radiation. The radiation mutated beauveria mordicana, the two of them combining. This halted the fullbody malfunction the fungus caused, while still allowing it to grow over her skin in splotches and maintain a large portion of it’s properties. Aside from the obvious plant overtaking that is present over her body, it has also affected her brain, leaving her.. Less than sane, to say the least.

Her visible mutations made it difficult for her to find a stable place for a long time, until she eventually was allowed to join the Followers of the Apocalypse. There, she made use of her scientific and medical knowledge, helping several people to the best of her ability. This was, at least, until she was captured by Caesar’s Legion, made a slave in an attempt to ruin her dignity. This was a successful endeavor, as the humiliation brought upon by legionaries was far too much for her to handle, and with the bomb collars regularly affixed to her neck she had no escape. Rendered nearly infertile due to the afflictions her body contained, she was traded among the high-ranking legionaries even moreso than normal. When not forced to fulfill duties as breeding stock, she was put to use as a healer and was used to help feed members of the Legion thanks to the flora and fauna that regularly grew on her skin.

IN CHARACTER: 

name: Henrietta Biggle 

age ( please check masterlist for age info ): 24 

gender ( pronouns ): She/her 

sexuality: Yeah 

occupation/role (Do they work a job within New South Park? Are they a raider? A mercenary? Etc.): Raider 

location/faction (Check the About page for factions! Feel free to be creative!) : Raider 

 personality: Henrietta is what many would label as a ‘stereotypical’ goth. Despite not liking to put herself under labels as such, it would be a lie to say she was anything otherwise. With a monotone voice and ghostly stoic face, Henrietta appears heartless and cold towards the world around her. She is heavily nihilistic, rejecting all moral principles in the belief that life is meaningless. She carries little to no remorse for others, and takes pleasure in the fact that modern day society praises the lengths people must to in an effort to survive. In actuality, Henrietta views the current day situation as nothing more than entertainment - preferring to sit back in amusement as the survival of the fittest takes place in front of her very eyes. She appears emotionless, drained from the life around her and built into nothing more than a hollow shell that clings desperately on to each day as it passes by and blends into the last. However, as much as she hates to acknowledge it, beneath it all, Henrietta has a prominent maternal streak. As apathetic and threatening as she may appear, deep down, she cares truly for those close to her and would go to any length to protect them. But, if you call her out on it, she will most likely bite back and deny it. 

 bio ( at least a paragraph explaining current character situation & any important elements of their past): From a young age, Henrietta knew what it was like to be alone within the big bad world. More specifically, she wasn’t blinded to her insignificant existence in the world. She didn’t have a bad upbringing by any means, with her family doing everything they could in order to appear as ‘loving’ to the outside world. However, that was under the guise that everything was okay in this false sense of security the conformists liked to call ‘New South Park’. She felt trapped, almost suffocating within the walls that protected the town from the dangers lurking outside. Everyone seemed fine, seemingly blinded by their own terror in order to accept the harsh reality of the true horror that lurked outside. As Henrietta saw it, any day on earth could be her last, and she’d be damned if it was spent cooped up within the bullshit make-believe of ‘sunshine and rainbows’. There wasn’t much keeping her in New South Park to begin with. Nothing to be missed. Her family would be just fine, if anything, they’d be better off without her. Never did they make an effort to understand her, and instead made the poor girl feel like an outcast within the Biggle family, like a gloomy dark cloud that looked beyond a blue sky. A storm waiting to rattle and cause destruction in its path the more it was contained. And so, at seventeen, that would be the last any of the residents within South Park would hear or see of any existential darkness for awhile as she set foot within the abyss to explore the world for herself and truly witness it in its cruelest and most harsh form. 

headcanons ( optional, just an extra space to play around ): 

 - Despite the whole ‘post-apocalypse’ thing, Henrietta miraculously managed to stay true to her goth roots. She is a big fan of revamping old clothing she finds while exploring, as long as it’s void of any color. 

- Big, black boots that make her seem above average in height and more threatening than usual. 

- Deathly pale with rounded cheeks and hefty bags beneath her eyes. A noticeable figure that is more toned than her youth, lesser on the heavyset side. Messily cut hair that’s usually held back in a spiky ponytail, with choppy bangs that fall just over her eyes. 

- Many self-given piercings.

 - A pretty talented writer. Something she’s always taken pride in is expressing herself through poetry, as it’s the only thing that seemed to have really worked in channeling her cynical thoughts. 

- Carries around her trusty Satanic bible to this day and enjoys reciting verses for fun. Her party trick is speaking in tongues. 

IN CHARACTER:

name: Tricia Tucker age: 20, technically

gender ( pronouns ): Cis Female, She/her

sexuality: Bi

occupation/role: Sniper, Guard/Hitman/Mercenary, usually does any work that requires exposure to radiation.

location/faction (Check the About page for factions! Feel free to be creative!): New South Park (technically)

personality: Tricia has always been a bit of an abrasive person, mimicking the actions of her adoptive brother while denying that she respected him enough to do so in the first place. She’s timid, easily annoyed and very blunt, finding little time to coat things lightly unless she’s around someone particularly sensitive. Cares very little for others’ opinions on her, and it shows. After she was kidnapped (see bio), she’s become a bit more reserved and most of her interactions with others involve glares. Being a ghoul, she’s used to being treated incredibly harshly, and as such usually assumes the worst from people, which leads her to being more abrasive than before.

bio: Up until she turned 9 years old, Tricia lived a pretty average wasteland life. She stayed with her mother, father and brother, and spent a lot of her time either annoying her older brother or running out of town and scavenging, only to be found and dragged back home an hour or so afterward, usually by Craig. That was how it had been, at least, until about a month after her ninth birthday. On one of her rebellious little hunts for old toys and such, she was spotted by a band of mutants- this specific group had been previously devoted to the Master, and had intentions to recreate and refine his psyker experimentation. Being as small as she was, it was little fight to grab her and drag her off to their base of operations, and by the time Craig went looking for her the only trace that remained was her backpack, left open on the ground. The following eight years would be something Tricia would forever remember with complete horror. Continuously injected with FEV at a low dosage, directly into her pineal gland, she would sit in a room devoid of anything but the absolute bare necessities, fed complete garbage with low nutritional value, and was subject to constantly hearing the agony of others being experimented on. Seventeen years old, she managed to escape the facility, although completely unaware of her surroundings and in the midst of radiation low enough to not notice but heavy enough to leave a lasting impact. By the time she was eighteen, she had transformed into a ghoul, meaning by the time she managed to find civilization once more she was shunned away for her appearance. She’s spent the past two years trying to find her way back to her brother, while picking up any odd jobs she can find along the way.

headcanons ( optional, just an extra space to play around ):

IN CHARACTER:

name: Leopold “Butters” Stotch

age: 23

gender ( pronouns ): (GNC) Cis male, He/Him

sexuality: Bi ace, Closeted

occupation/role: Vault Dweller turned Raider & Tinkerer/Engineer

location/faction (Check the About page for factions! Feel free to be creative!) : He kind of wanders around a lot with his travelling partner (henrietta app incoming i think?), but makes camp outside New South Park on occasion.

personality: Due to how he grew up (read below), Butters has developed a few odd traits. He speaks with a country accent, but otherwise his voice is completely robotic. He’s extremely intelligent, especially with anything to do with electronics, metal, etcetera, but has little to no emotional or social knowledge and is exceptionally naive, gullible and blunt. Follows orders perfectly, which can be either really good or really bad seeing as how he doesn’t understand sarcasm in the slightest. The only emotion he seems to display properly is worry. As you’d expect from a raider, he’s a pretty fucking wild dude. Even though he shows little emotion on his face or in his voice, he’s known to sport the smallest hint of a smile while he brutally dismembers and cannibalizes people he either strongly dislikes or thinks are too weak. Deals with schizophrenia and is on the autism spectrum.

bio ( at least a paragraph explaining current character situation & any important elements of their past ): Butters was ‘born’ in Vault 74, approximately one year before it’s inhabitants became deranged due to the experiment that had sat dormant for over 150 years. The vault, as most who explore such ruins of a time before the ruin of the world would come to expect, had housed an experiment to test the population. This vault’s purpose was to, through several generations, develop a group of intel-gathering/infiltration soldiers that were incapable of being swayed to telling U.S. secrets no matter the trials they were put through. The process of this was similar to Vault 75, as the two were sister projects intended to be combined at some point near mutual completion. Through a selective process, the top in each field were harvested and subsequently executed after turning eighteen, their genes used to create a more refined test-tube child. Children who weren’t physically capable but especially intelligent were allowed to become scientists and further the experimentation. New children were injected with a small dosage of several different types of mind-altering drugs and regularly subjected to white noise experimentation akin to Vault 92, usually performed by a series of robots and supercomputers including a ZAX unit and, a few generations before Butters’ birth, a highly advanced robobrain (see diana stone from van buren) created from a scientist particularly unhealthy but unparalleled in intelligence. Soon after Butters was put in the care of the robots, there was a major issue within the electronics of the vault, causing a part of the experiment intended for several generations down the line to instead be activated within the main halls. Extremely heavy dosages of the mind-altering drugs, along with subliminal white noise messaging, that had been intended for a much stronger tolerance had flooded the air, bringing everyone outside of the nursery into a manic frenzy. Tearing one another apart from outside the windows of where Butters was safe from all of it, he had watched. He was the only child in the nursery at the time, and would be the last living inhabitant of the vault. After 22 years of being raised solely by computers unable to touch, most of which unable to feel, he developed a level of intelligence and ability higher than those before him, at a cost of his social and emotional capabilities. He was eventually found by a raider named Henrietta, who had initially terrified him with how different she was to what he’d known his entire life. The two of them have been traveling for around a year now, and although Butters is still for the most part incapable of holding relationships, he looks up to her with great respect. As of now, she’s the only one who can really stop him from going batshit insane on someone.

headcanons ( optional, just an extra space to play around ):

‌IN CHARACTER:

‌

‌name: Damien Thorn

age: 23

‌

gender ( pronouns ): cis male, he/him

‌

sexuality: closeted gay, demiromantic

‌

occupation/role: mercenary, works mainly alone as he finds working in teams "bothersome"

‌

location/faction: Born in The Legion. always on the move, but mainly remains near the edges of New South Park. To the outside eye, he seems to be a rogue raider, but will work with any faction that hires.

‌

personality: Extremely CONFIDENT in who he is, what he wants, what he does and what he believes in. He is AMBITIOUS, SELF ASSURED, DETERMINED with set goals that are hard to budge him away from, and he would do close to anything to ACHIEVE them.

He is INTELLIGENT, not exactly book smart but his CURIOSITY, love for LEARNING and incredible MEMORY make up for a lot of his KNOWLEDGE, but a lot of it are things that only ( he ) finds interesting.

He's also ELOQUENT, often times it ends up sounding a bit pretentious. Acute LEADERSHIP senses and great SPEECH SKILLS that are both encouraging yet borderline TYRANNICAL, but his CHARMS and undying DETERMINATION are often enough to make people listen. He has a strong set of POWERS he masters to a T.

He's also pretty OPPORTUNISTIC.

OPPORTUNISTIC, he won't hesitate to throw people under the bus or MANIPULATE or HURT them to achieve his ends, it doesn't matter who the person is; his OWN person, beliefs, views, goals and desires come above anything and all people.

He is CRUEL, SADISTIC, other's pain and suffering bring him absolute JOY and PLEASURE.

He is TYRANNICAL, and an AWFUL LOSER. His temper is SHORT and EXPLOSIVE ( literally and metaphorically ), his powers closely linked to the intensity of his anger and emotions; it makes for extremely DEADLY TEMPER TANTRUMS, LOUD and quite literally ABRASIVE — everything and everyone gets set on fire. He loves CHAOS, DESTRUCTION and ANARCHY of the WORST kind, but only if it is ( HIS ) making and his only, any other kind of disorder is deemed intolerable.

Very STUBBORN — but what else is to be expected of a taurus? — to the point of him becoming quite literally UNMOVABLE even if proven wrong. He is someone who despises loudness yet does not know how to be quiet, he has little control over his voice; it still sounds quite young, as if it never fully matured and stayed high.

His PATIENCE is NON EXISTENT, any little inconvenience is sure to SET HIM OFF, easily ANNOYED and ANGERED, he doesn't have patience for others, or HIMSELF. This is directly linked to his little to no EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE, he is very UNAWARE of what EMOTIONS and FEELINGS are supposed to be like, and so, ignorant of how own — He only knows what the basics feel like: fine, sad, anger and boredom — but anything else is coped with enormous amounts of ANGER. It is very inconvenient and FRUSTRATING to him, as he FEELS so much, at all times — there's a stormy sea inside, a tormented ocean of emotions he trapped in a bottle, waiting to explode. As has been said before, his powers are closely linked to them all. This all makes him very SUSCEPTIBLE to MANIPULATION, it is easy to throw him off and CONFUSE him, because that is a state he is constantly in with himself. He doesn't know anything about who he is DEEP DOWN, and it scares him. He is very uninformed, maybe even ignorant, to many human conventions, mostly those linked to emotional bondings and physical activities — romance, sex, dating, friendships, family bonds, etc...— or why they are necessary at all, he then also refuses to act upon them at all out of disgust and discomfort. All this linked to his lack of emotional knowledge and awareness.

He also hates not having any sort of POSITIVE ATTENTION, and as shown in his episode, will gladly do ANYTHING to have it and have people ADMIRE him, but he refuses to even consider ASKING for it.

‌

bio: Hell was nicer than whatever the mortal had become. The power of it all was strong enough to shake even the deepest depths of the underworld and break its balance. Nothing that could not be handle on a surface level but nothing would be quite the same after that. His birth was bloody and unexpected, brought to the world by a woman he barely knew about and never met — she didn't matter, he had been raised to think so and so he did. Born within The Legion, worshipped by a small group of believers of ancient religions and prophecies too far-fetched to be true. As he grew, those were slaughtered, always hiding the truth of the child with red eyes they all named Damien. He never felt a thing about them, and he never cared about their lives, or who they were.All that mattered to him was that they were keeping him alive, feeding him and raising him. The Antichrist he was called, he didn't really believe it, there was no reason to in a world with no faith or chance, he simply basked in the privilege and opportunities given to him. Respected among the men, taken under their wing when only few of his worshippers were left at age 12, his gifts started manifesting. Small at first, nothing that couldn't be passed as some sort of weird mutation — but soon it got too much, and soon he started believing it, the ancient tales of the son of evil coming to finally bring an end to their miserable world. He left, killing a high ranked man and his son, with flames so bright he could've outshined the sun itself.

Escaping hadn't been hard, he knew every hole and wall of the place, used the tactics they taught and just like that he was out. Damien got taken by the raiders not long after, having defeated someone considered "strong" in a hand on hand fight, his powers were of no use. It earned enough respect for them to be taken in, and he showed himself useful enough — he was barely 19 at the time. He knew himself well now, the time he had stayed with the raiders was enough for him to take, although slowly, full knowledge of what he was capable of, both as a creature forged from the fire of hell itself and as a man, a human bodied being. He deserved after a while, to finally find himself wandering the deserted lands alone, living off paid kills and other nasty jobs he took as training. It's hard to contact him, some say he only comes when called like the devil does.

‌

headcanons: 

– physical overview: he is petite lean, with skin so fair and pale he looks sickly, he never seems to tan. Angel sort of pretty, no physical flaws. Big red eyes framed with thick, long lashes and brushy brows. He looks almost innocent, like a porcelain doll, but the constant frown and air of bitterness that floats around him break the image. His hair is shaggy, deep black and soft looking, curly and somewhat long, reaching his shoulders gracefully, a thick, neatly cut bangs shadow his eyes.

No specific demonic features that aren't his eyes, sharp teeth and hands — black claw like nails, they are long and sharp. He's able to control their length and shape, often keeps them short for practicality, but likes the long look. He has scars scattered around his body, some never seem to fully heal due to exposure, but they don't look nasty either.

– He doesn't actually know all that much about what or who he is aside from whatever weird stories the worshippers used to tell him.

– He doesn't rely on his powers as much as one would think, preferring weapons and more practical combat

– He lives in a small underground bunker that got busted open, it's hard to get in if he isn't guiding you, also because of the creatures he has chained to keep strangers away.

– He still keeps contact with some of the people within the raiders and the legion as a way to get Intel from the inside just in case.

– He ALWAYS types is all caps. Always. All the time. He likes how angry and loud the words look, and loves how it pisses people off.

IN CHARACTER:

name: “Firkle” Smith

age ( please check masterlist for age info ): 19

gender ( pronouns ): Non-binary (All Pronouns, primarily They/Them)

sexuality: Pansexual

occupation/role (Do they work a job within New South Park? Are they a raider? A mercenary? Etc.): Historian

location/faction (Check the About page for factions! Feel free to be creative!) : New South Park

personality:

Firkle’s a what you could describe as a cold and analytical kid, with a very depressing and pessimistic outlook on much of everything. Brutally honest, and often even a bit prone to violence without hesitation when provoked for any reason. hardly a friendly face from the old South Park mottos, and their bitter attitude often leaves them left alone, they way they prefers to be, outside of a selective few who may have the fortunate ability to earn his respect and his trust.

If someone can do that, they have the rare ability to see the softer side of the bitter young soul. They become almost caring, in a bit of a in-denial way (tough love). They even become a little more selfless to people who they care for, instead of having their needs before yours mentality like they do for strangers and other people. They also become a bit childish, and even may offer up a smile or two.

bio ( at least a paragraph explaining current character situation & any important elements of their past ):

Firkle lost their family when they were young, that sort of thing happens in a world like their own. That didn’t make it any less difficult to deal with as a kid. It was a large breaking point for Firkle’s once bright eyed and smiling personality. Becoming a gloomy kid, they grew a deep set of trust issues (particularly around promises) and a rage that when allowed to be released - led to violence even with fellow survivors. With all that, they dragged away from society and more into whatever could be done alone and without much interaction with the outside. Becoming a historian, often journaling updates and keeping track of the days, while preserving whatever parts of history they can salvage from the New South Park library. Their brutal honesty comes from a firm belief in the truth, especially when it comes to the past, as it’s so often rewritten or misconstrued for the gain of others. Although young, they have a deep in-depth knowledge of everything that has ever been buried in the sands of time, and uses it to their advantage when considering the future and what actions they take.

Currently, they are monitoring the slow and steady progress of their home in New South Park, and how they days drag on with note of residents.

headcanons ( optional, just an extra space to play around ):

- Wears a large amount of black clothing. Most of it old and from their deceased parents - resewn and cut up into fitting their body.

- Especially small and thin, with pale features and dark circles around their eyes.

IN CHARACTER:

Name: Tweek Tweak

Age: 23

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Sexuality: Homosexual

Occupation/role: Farmer (formerly), Medic Trainee (current)

Location/faction: New South Park

Personality:

Tweek is an over-caffeinated (if there’s coffee in this world, if not ignore this LOL), paranoid, anxious ball of wild blonde hair on the verge of an episode. He’s overwhelmed, clumsy, unfocused due to his ADD, and scattered in most circumstances. Quick to jump to the worst eventualities to simple situations, he usually causes his own freakouts. His naivety causes him to get manipulated and roped into a lot of dumb situations. He’s sharp when it comes to topics he’s heavily invested in but outside of that specific scope, he’s clueless.

Despite seeing through the world through the opposite of rose-tinted glasses, not everything about Tweek is bad. He has a strong moral compass and will speak up or act upon something if he’s really passionate about the subject. With not much else to do, he’s been working on himself and his issues, turning to meditation and cognitive restructuring. He’s also loyal to a T, willing to go to great lengths for his friends even if he’s scared or worried. The blonde has a hard time expressing positive emotions, but when things are good, it’s easier for him to let himself have a good experience. 

Even with the near-crippling anxiety and ADD, he’s a surprisingly functional adult. He spent most of his younger years learning to cope. He understands what needs to get done and will get it done, even if he’s scared. The verbal and physical tics, while still present, have calmed down considerably. They still flare up during times of extreme emotion though. 

Tweek isn’t perfect, or even close to normal, but he’s aiming for the stars and not the moon. It’s not a question of whether or not he could stand up to the test, but rather that he’d prefer not be tested at all. 

  Bio:

From a young age, Tweek had always feared the what-ifs of the world. What if he broke his leg running for his life? Busted his nose during a raid? These neurotic fears pushed him into books and others for answers. Knowing what to do for when he inevitably tripped and gashed open his leg gave him peace. This amassing of medical knowledge sat simmering on the back burner for most of his life, it was just random facts to put his mind at ease. 

Needing some kind of purpose, something that would provide a positive impact on his community, he joined the community farm to tend to the lands. He didn’t mind the work, it kept his hands and mind busy. It was rewarding to see the ground flourish from his attention. Simple, he didn’t have to go outside the walls, just what Tweek wanted. 

That all changed when he was out on errands in New South Park when someone collecting supplies from the outside was rushed in with serious injuries from a raider. Having collapsed in the streets, Tweek first stood by, heart racing as people panicked and looked for a medic. As the seconds crawled by with no one stepping in to help, Tweek grit his teeth and knew what he had to do. Even if he was terrified, even if he regretted this, it was wrong to watch a man bleed out on the ground. 

Dropping his supplies and darting to the man’s side, he rummaged through his satchel of farming supplies and slipped on his rubber gloves. Apply pressure. Elevate the wound above the heart. Stay calm. Breathe. More pressure. 

Soon enough a medic arrived on the scene and took over while the shaken blonde watched him work, disassociating. All he could focus on was the injury and the medic’s voice. As the supply runner was eventually carted away to be taken care of, the medic clapped a hand on Tweek’s shoulder and said something that stuck with him.

“You know, son, without your help, I’m not sure if that man would still be alive. Thank you. We’re always in need of medics if you’re interested.”

It was all Tweek could think about for weeks. Psyching himself up to join before backing down and wanting to stay a humble farmer. In the end, he knew what he had to do. Even if it was scary, he made the leap into the unknown. 

He went back to the medic’s and joined the team as a new apprentice. Hopefully, he doesn’t regret this. 

(If anything on this needs to change, let me know! I don’t know much about the Fallout series, so I hope I didn’t do anything out of line.)

  Headcanons:

★ He has ADD. Completing simple tasks is an uphill climb. Tends to hyper-fixate on something for short amounts of time. 

★ Apart from his verbal tics and overall jitteriness, he has a tendency to fidget with his hands. This is why he ended up cutting his hair shorter, so it would be harder to play with. This only redirected his hands to mess with his shirts, bunching them up or tugging on them.

★ A walking book of basic medical knowledge and conspiracy theories. He carries a journal with him for general notes and ideas. 

A NEW 18+ SOUTH PARK DISCORD RP SERVER NOW OPEN AND ACCEPTING APPLICATIONS!

This is a retro-futuristic post-apocalyptic South Park roleplay Discord server inspired by the Fallout universe!

The culture, aesthetics, and some technology is reminiscent of the 1950s, with the inclusion of advanced nuclear technology and robots being commonplace. Retro-futurism is what people of the past, 1950s in this case, imagined the future would be! So, many of the same elements they were used to, but with more rockets and robots.

No knowledge of the Fallout universe or games is needed to join! All you really need to know is that it is basically a zombie apocalypse AU with radiation! Feel free to send an ask if you have other questions!

PLENTY OF CHARACTERS OPEN FOR APPLICATIONS:

Eric Cartman

Clyde Donovan

Token Black

Tweek Tweak

Jimmy Valmer

Wendy Testaburger

Bebe Stevens

Ike Broflovski

Goths

Gregory of Yardale

A NEW 18+ SOUTH PARK DISCORD RP SERVER NOW OPEN AND ACCEPTING APPLICATIONS!

This is a retro-futuristic post-apocalyptic South Park roleplay Discord server inspired by the Fallout universe!

The culture, aesthetics, and some technology is reminiscent of the 1950s, with the inclusion of advanced nuclear technology and robots being commonplace. Retro-futurism is what people of the past, 1950s in this case, imagined the future would be! So, many of the same elements they were used to, but with more rockets and robots.

 No knowledge of the Fallout universe or games is needed to join! All you really need to know is that it is basically a zombie apocalypse AU with radiation! Feel free to send an ask if you have other questions!

PLENTY OF CHARACTERS OPEN FOR APPLICATIONS:

Eric Cartman

Clyde Donovan

Token Black

Tweek Tweak

Jimmy Valmer

Wendy Testaburger

Bebe Stevens

Ike Broflovski

Goths

Gregory of Yardale

and MORE!

A NEW 18+ SOUTH PARK DISCORD RP SERVER NOW OPEN AND ACCEPTING APPLICATIONS!

This is a retro-futuristic post-apocalyptic South Park roleplay Discord server inspired by the Fallout universe! 

 The culture, aesthetics, and some technology is reminiscent of the 1950s, with the inclusion of advanced nuclear technology and robots being commonplace. Retro-futurism is what people of the past, 1950s in this case, imagined the future would be! So, many of the same elements they were used to, but with more rockets and robots.\

  No knowledge of the Fallout universe or games is needed to join! All you really need to know is that it is basically a zombie apocalypse AU with radiation! Feel free to send an ask if you have other questions!

PLENTY OF CHARACTERS OPEN FOR APPLICATIONS:

Eric Cartman

Clyde Donovan

Token Black

Tweek Tweak

Jimmy Valmer

Wendy Testaburger

Bebe Stevens

Ike Broflovski

Goths

Gregory of Yardale

and MORE!