Hollis Brown
02-26-07, 02:28 PM
(its been a while since iv been here and dont really know what the deal is with firearms here any more but lets give it a go anyhow, gonna keep this short and sweet)
Weight:168
Height: 5'7
Name: Hollis Brown
Age: 42
Race: Human
Hair Color: Brown, but starting to gray
Eye Color: brown
Appearance: His cloths are by no means as flashy as some of the residents who roam these parts. A pair of blue denim jeans, black boots and belt, a tucked in black shirt, and a denim jacket are all this man adorns himself with. His graying hair that falls down a quarter of his back seems to be ravaged from years of ill care, it being torn frayed and split in all possible manners makes this man look less then reputible. A scraggly beard adorns his face which much like is hair has seen better days and is graying. His face and skin are worn and more wrinkled then an average man of his years from a lifetime of smoking and all around hard living. He is by no means a tall man standing a mear five foot seven inches, but seems to fall short of being classed as undersized. Weighing in at 168 pounds he is not a skinny man but once again falls short of being extreme in his stature. All around he is a fairly classless man and his apperance speaks this.
History: Hollis brown grew up in a small farm house. His parents where tobacco farmers and raised him to be the same. They taught him how to read and write and multiply and divide, they taight him to fish and when to plant, they taught him how harvest, and how to shoot, and they did their best to teach him to be a man. Well hollis never did like to read, write or do math, he wasnt much for farming either, but he did enjoy fishing. He would spend hours a day at the old pond bringing in whatever he could for supper. More times then not he'd strike out and come home with nothing, but the one thing he enjoyed the most was shooting. He and his pop would go out and fire off hundreds of rounds every weekend, his father was a wonderful shot hitting nearly everying he aimed for out to 300 yards. Hollis on the other hand was lacking, he missed shot after shot, week after week. If he was having a good day he might hit a quarter of his targets but that was about it. He never was very good but he sure loved to shoot.
Has the years went on and he grew to be a man he helped with the farm and chopped wood and so on. "He never did like it all that much and one day the axe just fell". When he turned twenty he moved on with his life, leaving the farm and his parents behind. The years that followed where rough on him, he did odd jobs here and there to feed himself. one week hed be nailing up a shed, the next hed be working in a lumber yard somwhere. This went on for years, this is what he knew. At about age 38 he gave up working. He sold what he had to buy himself a weapon, a tool, a companion on his journeys he would endure. He managed to obtain a large Bowie stlye knife, this was his new life, roaming from place to place this is where his past stops and his present begins.
Skills: fairly poor marksmanship, decent fishing abilities, and of course a nack for physical labor
Equipment: Bowie style knife, a handful of cigarettes and a box of matches.
(jeez, times have changed since i last played, i was able to start with a powerful bolt action rifle with my last character back when you werent althanas.com yet, oh well and thank you very much for fixing the format, i saw it before you fixed it and had no idea it was that bad, thanks a million)
Weight:168
Height: 5'7
Name: Hollis Brown
Age: 42
Race: Human
Hair Color: Brown, but starting to gray
Eye Color: brown
Appearance: His cloths are by no means as flashy as some of the residents who roam these parts. A pair of blue denim jeans, black boots and belt, a tucked in black shirt, and a denim jacket are all this man adorns himself with. His graying hair that falls down a quarter of his back seems to be ravaged from years of ill care, it being torn frayed and split in all possible manners makes this man look less then reputible. A scraggly beard adorns his face which much like is hair has seen better days and is graying. His face and skin are worn and more wrinkled then an average man of his years from a lifetime of smoking and all around hard living. He is by no means a tall man standing a mear five foot seven inches, but seems to fall short of being classed as undersized. Weighing in at 168 pounds he is not a skinny man but once again falls short of being extreme in his stature. All around he is a fairly classless man and his apperance speaks this.
History: Hollis brown grew up in a small farm house. His parents where tobacco farmers and raised him to be the same. They taught him how to read and write and multiply and divide, they taight him to fish and when to plant, they taught him how harvest, and how to shoot, and they did their best to teach him to be a man. Well hollis never did like to read, write or do math, he wasnt much for farming either, but he did enjoy fishing. He would spend hours a day at the old pond bringing in whatever he could for supper. More times then not he'd strike out and come home with nothing, but the one thing he enjoyed the most was shooting. He and his pop would go out and fire off hundreds of rounds every weekend, his father was a wonderful shot hitting nearly everying he aimed for out to 300 yards. Hollis on the other hand was lacking, he missed shot after shot, week after week. If he was having a good day he might hit a quarter of his targets but that was about it. He never was very good but he sure loved to shoot.
Has the years went on and he grew to be a man he helped with the farm and chopped wood and so on. "He never did like it all that much and one day the axe just fell". When he turned twenty he moved on with his life, leaving the farm and his parents behind. The years that followed where rough on him, he did odd jobs here and there to feed himself. one week hed be nailing up a shed, the next hed be working in a lumber yard somwhere. This went on for years, this is what he knew. At about age 38 he gave up working. He sold what he had to buy himself a weapon, a tool, a companion on his journeys he would endure. He managed to obtain a large Bowie stlye knife, this was his new life, roaming from place to place this is where his past stops and his present begins.
Skills: fairly poor marksmanship, decent fishing abilities, and of course a nack for physical labor
Equipment: Bowie style knife, a handful of cigarettes and a box of matches.
(jeez, times have changed since i last played, i was able to start with a powerful bolt action rifle with my last character back when you werent althanas.com yet, oh well and thank you very much for fixing the format, i saw it before you fixed it and had no idea it was that bad, thanks a million)