Deadlands 2016 @ Mika's
An Igbo African woman, born and raised in Annapolis, Maryland.
A tall (5’10") African woman of Igbo origins. An exceptionally beautiful woman, slender, with defined muscles. 23 years old.
She has a soft face, with large wide set brown eyes, trimmed eyebrows, a broad rounded nose, and full lips. With thick, dark brown hair of about shoulder length that is often styled in to thin dreadlocks and tied up.
She usually wears clothing typical of the times, a loose white shirt with all bar one button done up. A black stetson hat atop her head and her rifle scabbard on her back, aside her backpack, allowing for easy and quick access where needed.
I was born and raised in Annapolis, Maryland, although my parents were taken from Igboland in Africa on slave ships. I had spent most of my life a free woman due to slavery being abolished in my early years at age 9. My mother, who was tough as nails, left home before I turned four. To this day, no one knows why. I never knew her, so I don’t even pay it a second thought.
As a child I kept my head down, and worked hard. I found myself to be surprisingly agile, and dexterous. With a keen eye and sharp reflexes.
As a teenager, I took part time work at Foster’s Goods in Annapolis, to provide extra income for me and my Pa. It was here, I found what I felt to be a talent, as I could seemingly sell anything to anyone. It helped that men were too easily distracted by my looks.
A few years after I reached adulthood (aged 20), I decided to strike out on my own after the death of my father. I joined a small travelling caravan of merchants that mainly specialized in firearms. I traveled around the United States for a while, gaining a great deal of knowledge about the usage of firearms as well as their maintenance and how to sell them. I discovered my innate reflexes and dexterity made me an impressive marksman, able to shoot the eyes of a deer at 100 yards. My weapon of choice is the good old reliable Winchester rifle, ’76 model. Nothing felt quite as right in my arms as that beauty.
It was during these travels that I met Elric Wulfe, a curious man of science. We traveled together for a short while before my traveling party came under attack by what I can only describe as the living dead. They were all.. slaughtered, eaten alive. I figured out that a good solid headshot is the only way to put them down for good, but I barely escaped with my life. I think I and Elric both owe each other that. Together we managed to escape, barely. It was during this attack I suffered the bullet wound that screwed up my left leg, it damaged something that never quite healed right.
We took shelter together for a while anywhere we could find it, taking the time we needed to process what had happened. No one would believe our stories so after a while, we stopped telling them. We did decide, however, that this was something to investigate. It turns out, there’s a lot more creepy stuff going on out here in the West than we ever could have imagined. Our later travels led us in to the path of Vampires, and even a ghost! I have learnt to trust Elric in these matters, he seems to know a lot about ghost rock, and has the right type of mind to figure out some of this supernatural nonsense. I pretty much help him out, and provide support at this point.