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Aberrant: Dead Rising - Character - Ronald "Shooter" Bangs


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Nature: Survivor

Height: About 5' 11"

Weight: 180

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Brown (little bit of balding)

Duds: Surplus army/hunting gear. Got a ratchety old Jeep running low and some foods and guns and ammo. He won't be caught off-guard again.

Strength: 5 (Brawny) (Brawl 2, Might 1)

Dexterity: 5 (Hand-Eye Coordinated) (Athletics 1, Drive 1, Firearms 5, Legerdemain 1, Martial Arts 2, Melee 5, Stealth 5)

Stamina: 5 (Tireless) (Endurance 3, Resistance 3)

Perception: 5 (Alert) (Awareness 2)

Intelligence: 2 (Engineering 2/Repair Specialty, Science 1, Survival 3)

Wits: 5 (Unfazeable) (Rapport 1)

Charisma: 2

Manipulation: 2 (Subterfuge 1)

Appearance 2 (Intimidation 1)

Backgrounds: Attunement 2, Dormancy 1, Node 2, Resources 3

Mega-Atts: Mega-Dex 2 (Accuracy), Mega-Per: 1 (EM Vision), Mega-Sta: 2 (Adaptability, Tireless), Mega-Str: 1 (Lifter), Mega-Wits 2 (Enhanced Initiative)

Powers: "Imaginary SMG" (Tainted): Quantum Bolt 3 (MIRV) Makes noises and smells like spent bullets for a few minutes afterwards. No bullets, though. Just results.

Quantum: 2

Quantum Points: 24

Taint: 3

Willpower: 7

Init: 1d10+14/19

Speed: W 7m/ R 19m/ S 41m

Soak: 5B/2L

2 xp left.

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Concept: Good Old Boy from West Virginia. All set to join the Army but they wouldn't take him (juvenile record). Then the dead came back up, and he was stuck in a big old mall with a bunch of losers, and he'd be practicing his aim on the rooftop on the undead gathering below. Then there was a breach, and he was the last one left. He temporarily ran out of ammo, thought he was done for, and went a little nuts at that moment. He had a flashback to when he was playing Special Forces with his buddies, and he mimed shooting at the zombies as they came after him. Much to his surprise, his 'imaginary machine gun' worked, long enough for him to get to the next ammo cache, and from there to freedom.

He's been roaming ever since, and still feels 'all torqued up' from that mall battle. He hasn't the foggiest as to why his imaginary SMG works, or why he feels so damn tired after using it for a long time, but it works and he's happy. Well, as happy as you get never knowing when the dead are going to show up and eat you. He has noticed along the way how he's much better at hitting what he aims at since his near-demise, and after those wicked headaches died down. He's also discovered he's much better with a weapon in his hands; as long as he's got something, he's dangerous. Of course, it would have been nice if it'd given him muscles like The Incredible Hulk or big brains, but he'll take what he can get.

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