Fallout, Vault 15: A New Begining
Tall, lanky, needs a shave, and needs a tan.
Harry stands at 6’11", and weighs 185 lbs. His skin is pasty white, even for a Vault Dweller. His hair is unkempt, and his whiskers are starting to itch. He wears a duster given to him by his father before his untimely death.
Harry was born to loving mother Katrina, and hard working Vault Technician David, in Vault 15. His mother liked to spoil him, so much so that she alone was probably the reason for his near addiction to Nuka Cola. His father had a thing for finding spare things around the Vault, and in his time even found comic books for his young son. Harry loved reading comics (what few there were), and even took a few notes from them. Harry became chivalrous when it came to women, and dedicated when it came to his work ethic, to the point of working even harder to make sure whatever he had to do got done.
One of his favorite comics was Grognak the Barbarian. He loved reading the adventures of brave warriors fighting monsters and each other with swords and axes. As a kid, Harry swung everything and anything he could get his hands on. His father eventually was able to talk the Overseer into loaning a bag of sand Harry could use as a punching bag. Harry refused to use his fists, however, and opted to beat the snot out of it with a wrench. This phase went all the way through junior high, when Harry changed his attention to ANOTHER endeavor, firearms. Thanks to some whining, begging, and pleading, Harry was allowed to hang around with members of the Vault Security force, going on patrols to kill Radroaches and make sure the citizens were behaving. He even got to shoot a few Radroaches too…and nearly got mauled by others…At 16, his dad died after a crate crushed his head. Harry (thanks to a little convincing…and whining during the G.O.A.T.) took up the roll as one of the technicians for the Vault, though this boiled down to mostly making sure pipes weren’t leaking. Though he never complained about his duty, he always did want something more exciting, to the point of even having fantasies of fighting off barbarians and monsters with his wrench when no one
was looking…or at least when he THOUGHT no one was looking.
Unfortunately, Harry always seems to have a string of bad luck. Getting beaten up after walking into the middle of two OTHER people fighting, constantly hitting his head on low hanging ceilings, having his girlfriend break up with him for another woman, the list goes on. Then again, seeing how his dad went, it must run in the family.
His favorite thing (besides possibly Nuka Cola) is his Duster, one of the last things his father gave to him before he died. It belonged to his father’s father, and his father’s father’s father’s, AND his FATHER’S father~you get the idea.
He cares for his mother diligently when not working around the Vault, though she says she doesn’t need the help (and she really doesn’t). But after losing his dad, his mother is all he has left…besides Max, a St Bernard given to him for his 18th birthday.
Max, though diligent and well behaved, is quite a lummox. Regardless, Harry loves him greatly, even sharing with him any Nuka Cola he happens to get a hold of. His mother never gets THAT kind of attention.
But so it seems the tides of fate are bringing Harry Gibson’s simple life to a new and exciting advancement, one he could never have imagined…