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Luke Godfried

"It may be a suicide mission, but it sure as hell beats execution... At least I get to die on my terms... Sort of..."

0 · 156 views · located in The Wastelands

a character in “Wasteland Records: Trials of Genetic Decay”, as played by cha-kun

Description

Name: Luke Godfried
Sex: Male
Nationality: American
Age: 19
IQ: 134
Height: 6’1”
Weight: 150 lbs.
Frame/Build: Athletic
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Green
Complexion: Tanned
Voice Type: Bass

Appearance: He is a relatively tall young man of nineteen years, with and athletic build and tanned skin from his constant exposure outdoors he is obviously a man of action. He has masculine face with a chiseled jaw, and a thin layer of stubble on his chin. He has a Rather large roman nose, and a broad brow. His eyes are jet black with milky white, blind pupils. He keeps his black hair just long enough to run his hands through, but no longer. He has a large X-shaped scar on his right pectoral, and a brand on his left deltoid marking him as a member of the Bloodreavers

* Personality: He is quiet. He knows that he isn't trusted, but he doesn't have the social skills to interact with other people. His sentences are choppy, his voice is coarse, and he isn't familiar with current social do's and don't's. At this point in his life he knows that he has done much wrong and is looking to atone for his sins, in whatever way possible

Quirks: He carves a small notch into his blade for every kill he gets in battle.
Phobias/Fears: He is not particularly afraid of anything.

Equipment: He wields special swords, forged exclusively for his use from the finest red steel, and rather than using a grinding wheel as other blades forged for Doombringers, his blades were sharpened on a grindstone to provide for the sharpest convex, rather than concave, cutting edge possible. Along the blades he has carved, in crude letters, "Glamdring" a name he saw in an old pre-war book he read as a child. He uses a pair of spiked knuckles in case his enemies manage to knock his blade away. On his head he wears a psychically attuned mask that covers most of his head almost like a helmet, which amplifies his psychic abilities and doubles as a rebreather in caustic or toxic environments.

On his torso he wears red boiled leather underneath a red steel cuirass with a gorget and bevor to protect his neck and collar, and a plackart to protect his belly. He wears pauldrons on his shoulders, with rerebraces and vambraces on either arm. On his legs he wears greaves, with sabatons over his boots. Over all of this, however, he wears the red cloak of the Bloodreavers of The Right Hand of God. When not in battle he wears a red leather tunic with black pants and instead of his mask he wears a simple blindfold, as he knows that some people are unnerved by his blind eyes.


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** Biography: He was born into the Right Hand of God Cult and was soon after found to have latent telekinetic abilities. His parents began using this to their advantage, culling favor with the leaders of the cult by using his power as a key to their own opulence. While he never wanted for anything, he was woefully neglected as a child and was distanced in favor of his sister by his parents. Despite their neglect, however, he never stopped loving them or his sister.

He was drafted into the Right Hand of God Youth Army at the age of seven. They trained him ruthlessly, focusing on strength and endurance training. He trained as much as he possibly could, hoping to one day be led into battle to destroy the heretics of this earth. seven years later he got his wish.

At the age of twelve he was thrust into battle as a neophyte. With nothing but a broadsword, a linen robe, and the righteous fury of God in his heart, he was a menace on the battlefield, and had finally found his first true home. However, a few months later, his latent psychic abilities surfaced, and he was forcefully ripped away from his new-found home on the battlefield, and was pushed into training with his new telekinetic abilities. His days were filled with more training than he had ever experienced, and his nights, once filled with nothing but sleep, were now filled with study.

Eventually after two years of training, he was exalted, as he had passed through his training successfully and was accepted into the Bloodreavers, a completely PK division of the Army that held the distinct position of leading the lesser troops into battle. They were given blood red weapons and armor, and special blood red cloaks to wear over their armor. In his trial by fire he was blinded by an enemy flash bomb, but despite this he continued fighting, the sight of this blinded whirlwind fighter sowing panic, and routing the enemies forces. From then on he had a reputation among his own forces for his ferocity in combat, but his compassion in camp.

Five years later, after a great victory, and while the rest of the army was celebrating, Luke stole into the Cardinal's chambers while he was sleeping and slit his throat, turning his back on the Doombringers forever.

He left that night, taking with him everything he owned, his sword, his kine blades, his armor, his cloak, and the few articles of clothing he owned other than the cloak. He stole some food and water as well, and set out into the wasteland. Eventually, he came upon Glowtown, out of food and in desperate need of water, he stumbled into town, delirious from dehydration. He collapsed in front of the town gates, and was sent to the town doctor for treatment, during his examination of him, he discovered his brand, and it was determined that as soon as he regained consciousness, Luke would stand trial for his crimes.

So begins...

Luke Godfried's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alex Johnson Character Portrait: The Record Keeper of the Wastes Character Portrait: Glory Morrison Character Portrait: Cameron Caulfield Character Portrait: Luke Godfried Character Portrait: Artemis Cheshire
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The year is- well- fuck- no one has known the ending to this sentence in quite some time. Somewhere after the fall of civilization and the rise of city-states it all got muddled a bit. Scientists and Historians jab that it is more or less 2135, but that is just a summation of their countless hypothesis regarding the sky, the turn of the moon, the drift of the tide, the way the sun shines off of a gopher’s ass- you get the point: its’ all just speculation. What you can say it is: is that it is a Tuesday.

This Tuesday is a bit different than others. The hubbub about Glowtown seems less dispersed, and more centralized around the Northernmost Gate. Usually there are vendors throughout the winding corridors of streets, the sound of old clunking Rovers jostling about, a stale breeze of old garbage collecting in the dank allies, and the drizzle of fear mixed in with the notion of safety that every bright morning brings. The Stalker attacks hadn’t been as frequent as-of late, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there watching the walls of Glowtown with nocturnal orbs and bone-pointed teeth. Yet thoughts of the citizen’s impending doom and/or death were vaporized for a moment as they looked out to a large Rover parked at the edge of the Gate. Usually crowds never happened- there were too many fucked up situations in this world to warrant such attention- but this Tuesday was a bit different. There had been whispers, slivers of whispers, gossip (both founded in truth and unreality), and a general knowledge that Reagent Keane was about to send a small squadron to the Ivory Tower.
Had speculation not been so high on their actual success a parade might have been thrown. Yet there seemed to be no such celebration as onlookers continued to well- on look- and the gate workers organized the petty but reliable rations on the Rover.

“Look Lady,” a fellow stated to a rather formally dressed woman in fatigues. Her dark black hair was pulled into a low bun, and as much as her plum ripe features were pulled tight to seem severe- she honestly just looked like a lost puppy. “The Rover is only going to take you so far- we haven’t been commissioned for the entire trip.”
“I know,” she remarked- and let those rose hued lips spread out into a sweet smile. “I specifically requested that you weren’t. Of course you could always continue on- roll straight through the Badlands, the Radiation Farm, maybe even into Stalker Territory, and I’ve been hearing rumors about how the Doombringers are lurking about there.” All of this was said with a cherry sweet staccato to her voice.
The man just blanched and nodded. “Just thought I would let you know.”
“How gentlemanly.” There was more than sarcasm to her voice, but it was hard to place what was truly there. Those digits came to her supple hips- that were attempting to hide underneath her fatigues but failing- and she stroked her pointer finger down the gun on her hip. The Lawmaker badge was always fastened next to it with the emblem of Glowtown emblazoned upon it. Of course it would do little in other city-states that didn’t swear alliance to Glowtown- actually if anything it might start a bit of aggression if she decided to pull her gun. Fortunately all this woman had to be was a guide, and nothing more. Unless her life came into any form of teetering peril she would just stand back and let the other members of her crew get their hands and faces bloody.
“So you aren’t the only one- right?”
“Right.”
“Where are the others?” The man asked somewhat cautiously- expecting another tongue lashing.
“They’ll get here when they get here I suppose. Punctuality really isn’t a virtue in a world with no clocks.”

- - -


Reagent Keane had met with all of his ‘adventurers’ separately over the past few days. Some were easy to corral into his office, and inevitably into his cause; but others had not been so smoothly coerced. They had each been offered a large sum of money, or whatever they wanted that was within his power to give them. Inevitably he had managed to procure five of the finest- or what he assumed to be the ‘finest’, because there was no real telling what the rest of the world held. And then he had given each of them specific instructions on where to meet, who they would be meeting with, and a surprisingly vague approximation of time (the morning).
Of course anyone that wasn’t a native of Glowtown might have had a hard time navigating the streets, but given the sheer size of the city-state it was somewhat streamlined for getting form one place to the other quite quickly. There were several larger roads for smaller cross-town Rovers that led from the central ‘City Hall’ out to the very edge of the gates. From there were multiple slender tributary paths that branched off for foot traffic. Inevitably though each smaller road would lead to a bigger one, and from there it was left to just understanding your cardinal directions to get to the outer walls. Glowtown itself was a conglomeration of pre-apocalyptic architecture and newer buildings built on top of them and around them. It was probably one of the more update settlements, but like every place of living there were always slums that were crumbling around its’ inhabitants and, uptown living that were made with the sleekest and newest materials. Yet no matter who you were or where you were from- today your eyes might have found themselves at the Northernmost Gates quite curious on who Reagent Keane was putting all his faith in to travel to the Ivory Tower. If you were one of these onlookers- later in life you could retell the story about the brave members of this team and the impact their actions had on the Wastelands for some time to come.

In the end- they would be a part of the Wasteland Records- in the chapter so simply named: The Trials of Genetic Decay.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Luke Godfried
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#, as written by cha-kun
Luke was more than aware of the tension in the room as the guards entered his cell. They had obviously not been informed of his position in town. He simply smiled at them, holding his bound arms up in a gesture of submission, pointing at the explosive collar fixed around his neck. Upon realizing that he was restrained, they relaxed quite a bit, a mistake in Luke's mind, but they weren't trained military, so it was to be expected. They picked him up and dragged him roughly from his cell, "Come on kid, let's go, your ride's waiting for you at the north gate, it's a ways away from here so we'd better get moving don't you think?"

"Of course Captain." He smiled, he could tell his blank eyes were getting to them. They were getting defensive again. "Lead the way."

He walked with them to a waiting pickup truck outside, the captain threw a rucksack into the back, "Hop in here. Jefferson, you drive. I'll keep an eye on our friend here."

"Yes, Captain Ferris!"

Luke did as he was told, no point in antagonizing the locals any more than he had already. He clambered up into the bed of the vehicle, maintaining eye contact with his guard.

A few yards down the road, His watcher finally broke, "Stop staring at me, ya' freak!"

"Why?"

"Because your eyes are freaking me out, so shut em' or look away, before I shut em' for you."

"Well, if you hadn't taken my blindfold, I wouldn't have to stare at you like this."

Luke simply sat back and smiled, it was going to be a long ride, so he resolved to enjoy it as best he could. Closing his eyes, he leaned back and sent out a psychic pulse, getting a better look at the town. He had been unconscious for most of his stay in Glowtown, so getting a look at the place he'd be saving soon didn't seem like a bad idea. At the very least, it'd give him a reason to care.

A couple of miles down the road they stopped, and Captain Ferris banged unceremoniously on the side of the pickup, "Let's go!" He turned to a rather shapely woman on his left, "He's a little slow, doesn't follow orders well, at least so far as I can te-"

Luke's eyes popped open, "Thank you Captain! I surely do appreciate the ride. Ah, but parting is such sweet sorrow..."

The Captain reached into the bed of the pickup dragging his ruck from the back and dropping it at Luke's feet, "Yeah, well don't forget your crap." He then unshackled Luke's wrists and tossed the key to the Woman, "He's your problem now Lawmaker, hope you've got a stomach for bullshit, cause this guy's full of it..." The Captain hopped back into the Pickup and banged on the top, signalling Jefferson to pull away.

As they pulled away, Luke reached into the ruck and pulled out his mask. Slipping it onto his face he looked at the Lawmaker, "So! Who're these people?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alex Johnson Character Portrait: Glory Morrison Character Portrait: Cameron Caulfield Character Portrait: Luke Godfried Character Portrait: Artemis Cheshire
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Glory wasn’t enjoying the scenery, because the scenery was the epitome of pre-End-of-Times Western Novels. There was your stereotypical crowd, the stereotypical rustle of dirt around your feet, and the oh-so common hand upon your gun. It wasn’t as if the Lawmaker feared someone coming after her, but she was unsure what to make of this entire ‘hired guns’ scenario. Fortunately her thoughts were eased as the first applicant to their Wasteland trek was a young fellow that was pert and firm like all young men should be in this day and age. He had a look about him that plainly stated: ‘I’ve seen combat but I still believe in the good in people’. Glory had to say that that way of life was as outdated as the telephone, but she enjoyed his politeness. “Fair day Mister Caulfield,” she stated and nodded her head at his badge. “And I don’t know if escort is the proper term. Considering its’ connotation your job would be finished when I get you to the Ivory Tower- but it is much more complicated than that. You will have to complete the task that the Reagent assigned you- which I assume is getting a way to stop the Stalkers. Among what else your heart desires. I figure no one will fault you for looting or anything of that sort when in the Ivory Tower.” Not that Glory suspected that Mister Caulfield was the looting type, but then again the Rangers hired members on sheer stake of prowess and the ability to do right. It didn’t mean they were virtuous knights on a quest to save the world.

It was then Glory’s eyes found herself upon a blonde woman with a powerful build and a stark awareness that meant she had been hired for her ability. Being a Ranger was a give-in for acceptance into this role, but her apparent physique and skills set her apart from the rest. The Reagent had been smart in hiring her. To say that the Eve was attracted to her would be a substantial downplay of her emotions. Glory had to fight day to day against her genetic program to breed and preserve the human way of life, and so she had found being attracted to the same gender a way to bypass her instinct to mate by allowing her pleasures that wouldn’t lead to offspring. That and her odd sense of will and grueling sarcasm had done well in being quite unlike the nubile ‘princesses’ the Eves usually were. “Yes it is. I am Glory Morrison your escort, and this is Mister Caulfield a Ranger. And your name?” The Eve flashed her most welcoming smile towards the woman. It was cherry saccharine sweet and spoke of many promises that were made betwixt a downy curtain of lashes and thick ruby red lips.

Yet her eyes meandered from the blonde beauty to an odd android waiting on the outskirts of their caravan. “Right. Mister Android. I apologize if I forget your name, but honestly many of you have given up their names. Either way welcome to the caravan.” Honestly she found the presence of an android odd, but the Reagent had his reasons and she wasn’t about to doubt that. Maybe there would be radioactive territory or a need for some fallible machinery. Mayhap they would need to hack something. While the Eve was plausibly more technologically savvy than most it only came in the spectrum of knowing about electronics and their functions and not so much in using them. The Ivory Tower was bound to be a wealth of information and power, and more so probably owned pneumatically sealed doors that could only be reached through keypad or something of that sort. Honestly she was just stabbing at air with these presumptions, because the only memories left in her databanks were how to get there, and not so much what lay on the inside.

Yet nothing would be as surprising as their last member. To be completely honest Glory had figured that only the benevolent would arrive here due to the nature of the mission, but this member oozed something entirely different. And yet she was faced by other Lawmakers of Glowtown, and that was a trite bit unsettling. The Reagent had mentioned there would be someone of this standard and juxtaposition upon their team, but she had assumed maybe a raider turned against their own kind. Not this- this was a bit more complicated. The entire entourage felt a bit unnecessary, but she swallowed her disbelief as the truck seemed to deliver their last member with a disgruntled unlike. Yet she understood the Reagent’s group would involve the best and the worst of the Wastelands, but she had figured there would be a line drawn somewhere amidst it all. “This is Mister Caulfield from the Rangers,” Glory stated firmly. "The rest I haven't managed to get the names from, and I left my list inside the rover. I suppose I can fix this little dilemma quite easily, but I figured we would still have manners in this day in age." Slowly Glory walked to the back of the rover- the back of it was a large cavernous pit of comfortable seating and securely strapped down supplies. "This is the rover we shall be travelling on. It will not go the entire way, but it will get us through the more peaceful territories. From there we shall face horrors and terrors unknown, and hopefully manage to find our way to the Ivory Tower. If anyone would like to back out now they are more than welcome." Glory stated firmly, "otherwise you know why you are here and what we have to do. So without any further ado please board the rover. We'll have time for questions once we are on it."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alex Johnson Character Portrait: Glory Morrison Character Portrait: Cameron Caulfield Character Portrait: Luke Godfried Character Portrait: Artemis Cheshire
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What his heart desired... there was a difficult question, if Cameron had ever known one. Simple looting certainly wasn't it, but by no means did that mean he wouldn't take a look around if they were actually able to reach the Ivory Tower. Considering how little he, or anyone, knew of what was in there, he simply couldn't say what his intentions would be upon arriving. It was just something he'd have to decide when he knew more. For now, staying alive would likely be enough to occupy him.

The others began to arrive, the first being a blonde woman who was, judging by her equipment and outfitting, a mercenary, likely a bounty hunter. He was quite certain that he recognized her, after looking at her a little more closely. The protective gear matched closely enough, but there was something missing... the mask. It had been difficult to recognize her without the mask, but this was definitely the one called the Reaper. A few had attempted to hire him to kill her or even bring her in alive, but he'd never accepted those jobs. The headhunter was simply a tool of those who hired her, and as Cameron had heard, it was not beyond her to show protectiveness. He killed the Raiders, but he had nothing against the Raiders' guns. Perhaps the analogy was oversimplifying things, but it worked well enough in his mind. He gave her a respectful nod as Glory introduced him.

And now apparently Glory was escorting them. Cameron had been under the assumption that she was to be their guide, and he didn't see a great deal of firepower on her person, though he'd learned long ago not to underestimate anyone. The way she immediately flashed a smile at the headhunter was slightly strange, but he said nothing of it.

The next to arrive was an android, a very quiet one at that. The Ranger could see the potential uses a robotic member of the team could have, but there were also a few liabilities that cropped up as well. Best to assume he... it? Was more than capable of looking after itself. The last member of their group also failed to introduce himself, leaving Cameron as the only one who actually had. He found it strangely fitting, but did not comment on the matter. None of the group, apart from the Lawmaker, seemed particularly trustworthy, and the Lawmaker only because Cameron assumed she at least had to do something to earn that badge. Truly, it was perhaps meaningless. He didn't need to trust them, he just had to work with them.

Seeing as he'd been introduced, and there was little point in wasting more time, Cameron climbed into the rover, taking a seat at the pack and setting his pack down at his feet.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alex Johnson Character Portrait: Glory Morrison Character Portrait: Cameron Caulfield Character Portrait: Luke Godfried Character Portrait: Artemis Cheshire
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#, as written by Lanaya
Artemis had only a few experiences dealing with companions, and even then they usually only surmounted to transportation from point A to B or she had to escort them from here to there. It wasn't that she was incapable of working in groups, she simply found working alone to be much easier. There is peace in independence, an individual roaming in the Wasteland can make a solitary connection to the landscape much easier than if there were a second mouth yapping off beside you. Partners are also unpredictable, they act on their own stead and if they make a mistake you better hope it isn't one that affects you. Nonetheless, she couldn't help but feel intrigued by the people she saw that would become her allies over the course of the journey -- for better or worse. Though showing nothing on the exterior, she sized each of them up, creating a first impression of each individual. This was a unique group of individuals, that was for sure.

She first noticed the ranger, Cameron she found as he was introduced. His appearance was worn and weathered, akin to the everyday folk of the Wasteland, and that alone spoke much about his character. Rangers, as she came by appeared different with every encounter. Some just liked to flash the badge, waving that symbolic token of 'justice' around like it was a key to slight authority over other citizens. These ones never really did much for the Wasteland people, more or less sitting on the sidelines and directing cheap command to get what they want. She called them pretty boys or pretty girls, and needless to say these pretty people usually ended up rotting and half-eaten in a ditch by the side of the road, mostly because they were unfit for desert life.
Then there were the seasoned ones, fierce survivalists forged on the anvil of tooth and grit -- she assumed this Cameron fell into that category. These were the rangers a headhunter had to truly be weary of. She did not fear their skill, nor their badge. Artemis was confident that her abilities could best the most of them. What she did fear was their versatility, intuition and survival instincts. She did her best to avoid contracts on the heads of the seasoned rangers, last time she was on the hunt for one she was nearly killed. They functioned like machines and simply refused to die, and that made the job much harder than it should have been. Her stomach sank as she recollected the time, and for a moment she could feel bitterness at the back of her throat. This Cameron already had much to live up to simply from her past experiences, and Artemis expected to see more. She nodded back to him in return. Artemis did not doubt Cameron's capability, in fact she kept it in good favor so long as his weapons were pointed away from her. She also expected noble things from him as well, as she did from most rangers. A smile perked up on the side of her lips, it would be entertaining to see if this journey would be willing to test that.

Artemis' eyes fell upon their guide, Glory. She too had a lawmakers responsibility, but it was different to that of the ranger in their party -- to the exact extent Artemis was unsure of. The woman must be well versed in Wasteland survival and navigation, why else would she be their guide? Artemis noted Glory's smile, it was a welcome sight from the rather angry, contorted look of rage of her bartender just a day before. It suddenly dawned on Artemis that this Glory woman would have been seen as extremely attractive to most of the Wasteland populace. It was definitely something about her appearance that Artemis could see how she could be one to bear a sly charisma. The blonde woman blinked, something was intriguing about this Glory woman that she could not quite place. It was most likely because of her friendliness, something Artemis saw all to little of. Not that it surprised the headhunter due to the nature of her calling and the way she came off to others. She gave another slight nod, catching her eyes drifting to other places before turning them to the others.

The android appeared simple enough. Artemis herself never really had any significant encounters with these human machinations, but they didn't sway for better or for worse in her opinion. She saw them little more than high-tech pack mules mixed with vultures, albeit technologically savvy ones but pack-mule-vultures nonetheless. And it wasn't in the form of disrespect, Artemis had a feeling some androids were more human than actual humans were, in fact that would be something she'd be willing to bet on. It wasn't too far from common for Artemis to see androids helping out the smaller settlements with scavenging and the search of supplies, and for that the hunter already held a hidden respect of the machine. Not that she knew whether it did do that or not, but that was Artemis' first impression. Perhaps the mix of technology and flesh is what saved the human trait of common decency in all of her android encounters. Technology saving the human spirit. That was a frighteningly ironic idea.

Then there was the strange PK, tossed out of a prison wagon like baggage. Already this was a strange sight. Most of the PK's Artemis encountered were wise, mature people who were well collected in themselves. Her mentor was one, and the difference between him and the one here was staggering. Artemis did not doubt either of their psychic capability however, that was something anyone should be weary of. Artemis did not know the extent of his ability and she was not willing to test it, at least not on herself.

Artemis listened to Glory get them started with their journey. The headhunter looked around, sighting all the people crowded to see their brave group venture on the ivory path. She wondered if this would impact their lives somehow. Fate had a strange way of working itself in everything a person did, Artemis could only hope it was for the better. Perhaps the bartender was in there somewhere. She grinned to herself, Artemis would have to pay another visit to him after she made it back. Grabbing her things she stepped towards the rover, but not before stopping and turning to Glory.

"Artemis," she said.

With that she stepped up into the vehicle. She took a seat across from the ranger, placing her pack on the floor.