alea iacta est

[sicvitaest]

Application for entranceway



Name: Zee
DW username: N/A
E-Mail: zheemarie [at] gmail [dot] com
IM: unimprincessed
Plurk: walkmorenicely

Other Characters: Castiel harpless

Character Name: Arcade Gannon
Series: Fallout
Timeline: After the game, an Independent New Vegas. He returned to the Followers.
Canon Resource Link: Arcade Fallout


Arcade Isreal Gannon is a web of carefully constructed lies and walls he puts up to hide who he really is. He is a member of the Followers of the Apocalypse in the year 2281, placed into the background of the Old Mormon Fort in New Vegas. He begrudgingly researches the impossible, making medicine out of local ingredients, while it’s totally possible in game to make stimpaks out of broc flowers and xander roots. Arcade knows perfectly well it’s possible, but on the other hand, his quiet job away from actual patients is more desirable to him. He prefers not having to talk to people, as it only puts him in position for questions he doesn’t want to answer.

The biggest secret he harbors is that he actually comes from the fascist group called the Enclave. Arcade himself is a very open-minded person, having distanced himself from the group to find more peaceful solutions to a way of life. He is the son of an Enclave officer who died when he was merely an infant. He knows nothing of his father, save for the memories of the people who raised him.

After a botched mission, the group of Enclave remnants that served with his father picked up roots and went into hiding after being tracked down by their sworn enemy the New California Republic. They settled on the Mojave Wasteland and went their separate ways to protect their true identities. Arcade joined the Followers of the Apocalypse to apply his medical knowledge in service to the ailing public of Freeside. He tries in vain to put his former life behind him, but it still remained in the back of his mind that he owed the remnants more than he could say for taking care of himself and his mother all those years.

His life with the Followers of the Apocalypse is quite boring because he believes himself to be a very boring person. He doesn’t care for one-on-one with patients, preferring to blend into the background. While he wants to believe that everyone has good in them, he understands that in this world, sometimes giving someone a bullet in the teeth is a mercy. Despite his knowledge of Latin, he has no ties to the Legion (which he cannot stand in the least). What he learned, he learned from books and holotapes of old gladiator movies. He enjoys the romanticism of the language.

Until Courier Six came along (Dan in this case), Arcade was enjoying a quiet life. When Six came around, Arcade had no idea what he was in for, but dove in head first to the problems of the Mojave. He remains on a neutral ground, only happy when things are for the benefit of the people and not for a faction as a whole. He knows all too well what happens when a group gains too much influence. He prefers independence over oppression, something that has him wondering if his father would’ve been proud of his choices.

He hides his past well while in the company of the Courier, deflecting personal questions with dry humor to avoid the awkward conversation that he had something to do with the Enclave. It wasn’t so much as stigma to him as it was a matter of survival, he wasn’t sure what Dan would do if he spoke of the group. They weren’t well-received in this territory (or any other for that matter).

The more they travel together, the more comfortable he gets with this man. As he works to free New Vegas from the tyranny of all sides, Arcade becomes more trusting. Even with the information bomb that he lays on him about knowing where they could get some help to turn the tide in the struggle for Hoover Dam. There was a definite weight off his chest when he mentioned the Enclave, and much to his relief, Dan was all for finding the remnants of the faction.

It goes without saying that after the battle of Hoover Dam with the defeat of the Legion and pushing the NCR out of the territory, Arcade couldn’t have been more thrilled with the outcome. What he did not take into account was that in the wake of no Gods or masters, the free people of New Vegas needed direction. He took it upon himself to defend those not strong enough to do so and taught them a better way of life.

Abilities/Special Powers:

Arcade is a doctor, an uncertified one at that. Who has time to get a degree with the chaos around him? He likes to think of himself as a glorified researcher. It’s not that he hates people, he just hates talking to people, which is required of a doctor. He is a better in the field, mending broken bones, stitching people up and curing people of their own stupidity. (Please don’t get up close to the cazadores, Dan. I’m out of anti-venom.)

Being from the Enclave, he is able to use power armor, plasma weapons and advanced technology. He has great aim when he has his glasses on, but take them off and he is Velma Dinkley. He cannot see without his glasses.

He is ace at deflecting personal questions, speaking latin, and boasts high intelligence.

Third-Person Sample:

Arcade liked to think himself a glorified researcher, one of those figures painted to make the still life more interesting. There was the occasional case that would get sent back to Arcade when Julie Farkas had her hands full with the addicts. He would set aside his texts for life saving measures. He had a terrible bedside manner for a doctor, talking down to his patients so they could understand what was wrong with them.

He wasn’t any good with kids, he had no comforting words for them- nor the patience. He liked to think he was never a child, having grown up way too fast and with not enough imagination. His mother never coddled him, always expected excellence, even in this day and age.

He grew up to be a doctor, a noble cause that any mother would be proud of.

Low Blood Pressure. He notes, scribbling away at his clipboard as the child on the gurney lay dying from something as simple as sepsis. Had the followers kept saline in stock, this wouldn’t have been a severe problem. They were down to their last bags. He inspected the wound again, a simple cut from a rusted piece of tin from a roof. Untreated. The locals didn’t know the first thing about infection.

He ignored the mother as she sobbed in the corner, opening the flaps of the tent to flag down one of the other doctors. “NS, whatever we have on hand. Med-X for the pain. We’ll need it.”

Arcade hated being a doctor sometimes. He watched as the man rushed off to the stores before turning his attention to the child’s mother, “Natalie’s going to be fine. Just needs some fluids and rest. I need you to sign a waiver for treatment.” He holds the clipboard out to her, “An ‘x’ will do.” Most people didn’t read or write. He shook his head when she asked if there would be a charge and how many caps.

“Free, the followers don’t charge for medical assistance or advice. Next time, wash the cut. This could’ve been prevented.”

First-Person Sample:

Video

I don’t remember asking for a vacation. I’m going to assume this is all felix culpa.

Call me cynical but you don’t get something for nothing. The wasteland is all about give and take. So what’s the angle here? There has to be a reason for pulling individuals from different worlds. Different times? Is the world feeding off of us slowly for its own benefit?

[The video finally focuses, and the man behind the rambling comes into view. The device he’d received looked much like a pip-boy, though he wasn’t familiar with one personally. The courier had one and would let Arcade watch old holotapes on it from time to time. This recording function was new.]

I’d like to know more about the inhabitants. [He adjusts his glasses] What information have you been fed and what part of it is actually truth?