Cletus Folernoy

[Deleted]

Cletus "Skeeter" Folernoy III

NAME Cletus Angus Folernoy III ALIAS Skeeter AGE 22 DATE OF BIRTH 04/03/2560 GENDER Male

PLAY BY Chad Lindberg SEXUAL ORIENTATION Heterosexual. Possibly Asexual. And who knows, if he were to meet the right bovine... AFFILIATION Neutral OCCUPATION Redneck Mechanic, Moonshiner, Farm Boy, Tracker, Marksman PLACE OF BIRTH: Sweethome

HEIGHT 5'8" WEIGHT 140 Lbs. HAIR Blonde, medium length and unkempt. EYE COLOR Blue

PHYSICAL BUILD Thin and muscular. DISTINGUISHING MARKS Several burns and small scars on his arms and hands. GENERAL APPEARANCE He's your stereotypical hick, although he is very graceful when he moves in the outdoors. Inside... not so much. CLOTHING STYLE Overalls.

LIKES Whiskey (His own, usually. Aint no need to spend money on that fancy liquor) Engines. (All shapes and sizes. If it runs, he wants to be inside it and working on it.) Hunting. (The thrill of the chase, the skill required to bring the animal down. Its like crack cocaine.) DISLIKES City Folk. (They are too focused on getting somewhere. Don't bother to look around or listen. Or anything like that. They don't have time for him, and he has better things to do than let them mock his simple ways.) Urban Areas. (He's lived in the sticks his whole life, and something about being pressed in between the buildings just gives him the willies. He also doesn't like being in with crowds. He gets claustrophobic. Trespassers. QUIRKS/HABITS Chews tobacco. Often has a piece of straw between his teeth. FEARS Aliens. (He's not saying that he believes in aliens... but he believes in aliens. Afraid they'll come and scoop him off to some distant planet where they will make him dance like a woman for their pleasure.)

STRENGTHS Perseverance. (Once he sets his mind to it, it will get done. May not be pretty, but it will get done.) Mechanics. (He worked in his daddy's mechanic shop for most of his childhood. If it should run, he can fix it. Within reason. Never had no use for them big space ships. But your truck or quad isn't working? Well step aside son, let Cletus at it. Grit. (There's some that would shrink back at the thought of an unpleasant job. But Cletus doesn't care. He'll do just about anything, so long as you can make him think its worth his time. Money, the threat of oppressive feds taking his still.....) WEAKNESSES Talking. (He isn't the best with words, and sometimes its hard for him to understand people. He's never needed to know much proper talk.) Quick Temper. (If you insult him, or his own, then he will jump into a fight without batting an eyelid. He aint afraid to get hurt. But his quick temper means that he is hard to get along with.) Alcoholism. (Hey, whats the point of making moonshine if you cant drink it? Sometimes, however... well more than sometimes. Its rare to find him without a jar of his finest green apple, or some of that lemon zinger. He loves to drink. TALENTS/ABILITIES Tracking/Recon. (His years of hunting, and living out in the wild have given him keen abilities, and senses. He can move without so much as a sound through even the thickest undergrowth, and his small nimble frame makes it easy to swing through the treetops. He can follow a trail that even your old hunting dog would lose, and tell you what the bear that shit right there had for breakfast.) Marksmanship. Rifle Specific. (All those years of hunting have made him a dead eye. As long as he has a rifle, he's lethal. Hand him a pistol and he may just blow his own kneecap off, or yours. His personal rifle, an old .308 he calls felicity, has accompanied him on many many hunting trips. All that said, he'd much rather make a kill silent with his trusty hunting knife. Camouflage. (Have you ever met one of those guys who can take a hand full of grass, some charcoal and a handful of mud and just disappear into the scenery? Well now you have. Cletus learned how to keep hidden early, and if he chooses, he can fashion himself camouflage from just about anything to suit just about any environment. New areas would of course require some trial and error, but he has an eye for that sort of detail.) SECRETS Murdered his Uncle Roy, his father took the heat. ASPIRATIONS To live long enough to sit on his porch in a rocking chair all day and drink lemonade, and shout senile remarks at passersby.

OVERALL PERSONALITY

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Cletus is a simple man with simple taste. He lives his life on a day to day basis with no real sense of time or purpose. His only long term goal is to survive long enough that he can be like his grand daddy and sit on the porch shouting at the hot young girls who walk by. See? Simple tastes. He is fiercely loyal to those who he is close to, and if you treat him right there is no reason you wont get along. He's always ready with a handshake, a dip, and a jar of his finest moonshine.

What he lacks in intelligence he makes up for with sheer effort and determination. If you throw a problem his way, he may not solve it the prettiest or the most logical way, but rest assured it will get done. That said, he's not the one you want handling the touchy "public" relations situations, as he is a speak first think later type.

Had his family taken him to the doctor, they might have diagnosed him with some form of atypical autism or possibly Asperger's, which would explain his quick temper and uncanny ability to remember details out in the field. (Part of what makes him a good tracker.) He can be easily frustrated by large crowds or things that he doesn't understand which is why the solution to some problems is "smash it and move on".

FATHER Cletus Folernoy II (Deceased) MOTHER Jemima Wilson Folernoy SIBLINGS Roy-Lee Folernoy. (Brother) OTHER NOTABLE RELATIVES Roy Tobias Folernoy (Deceased)

SIGNIFICANT OTHER None. CHILDREN None. OTHER SIGNIFICANT PERSONS Nope. PETS Darla. "Pet" grass snake. (Deceased)

BACKSTORY

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Born to a poor country family on Sweethome, Cletus had to grow up fast. As soon as he was old enough to walk, his momma put him to work out in the fields or helping her with the animals. He learned how to shuck corn, milk cows, cut hay, all those things farm boys do. From day one, he was taught to love and embrace nature. Sure, every day on a farm is fighting off all the thousand natural enemies, but outside of farm work there was hunting, fishing, and countless other activities that someone as free spirited as Cletus couldn't resist. His father taught him to shoot at a young age, and then began to take him hunting. Through these outings, which eventually he would undertake solo, he learned how to move silently, how to hide, how to disguise himself to look like just another bush, or a rock. He found he felt most at peace when he was out in the wild, watching a herd of deer that didn't know he was close enough to spit on them.

As he got older, his duties at home changed to the harder, more manual labor. Lifting hay bales, fetching water from the well, pushing the hand plow. However, his small size made those jobs difficult, and tedious. His younger brother was taller, bigger, and stronger, so Roy-Lee took over the farm work, and Cletus went to work with his dad at the other family business, a small mechanic shop.

Here it was that he was first introduced to the engines, and the machinery that he would soon grow to love. He was fascinated by the inner workings of engines, and axles, motors and drive trains. He was a hard worker, and he made his father proud. Here, in the shop, his small hands were perfect for fixing those hard to reach bits and pieces, you know, the ones that break most often. It was after 2 years of working in the garage, that his father showed him the secret trapdoor hidden underneath one of the big hydraulic hoists. Down here beneath the shop was the still. A closely guarded family secret, passed down from father to son for generations.

He worked in the shop practically every day for 7 years, learning everything he could about engines and whiskey. It was a good life, and he enjoyed it. Everything was going swimingly until his father was arrested and put to death on the charge of murder.

The whole damn situation was a shit show. Cletus and his father, also named Cletus, had been working late at the shop, when the senior's brother Roy came by. He was looking more than a little worse for wear, and he was obviously scared. He and Cletus II went into the small office, and before long they were shouting at each other. Roy burst out, screaming that his own brother had murdered him. He grabbed a monkey wrench from a nearby workbench, and raised it as if to bash in his brother's head. Cletus III leapt up, and charged into the assailant, bowling him over. In the commotion, someone knocked into the lift controls, and Roy was pressed flat like a pancake. When the police arrived, they fabricated a case to put Cletus' father to death on the charge of murder. He had crossed the police chief many times, and they also had some reason to believe he was illegally producing alcohol. They never could find the still, though.

So there was Cletus. 21, and the man of the house. His father had been hanged, his mother was brokenhearted, so it fell to the brothers to run things. Roy-Lee took over the farming, and Cetus worked the shop. But business was bad, and before a year had passed, he had to close the shop. Then his mother grew ill, and she and Roy-Lee left to go live with some relatives on Whitefall. Cletus was now alone. but he didn't mind. He had the house, and he kept the farm running, albeit on a much smaller scale. Plus he made whiskey, and sold it to anyone who'd buy. Then the folks from the fancy planets came.

A mercenary company bought a bunch of farmland near the Folernoy property, they tried to buy out Cletus, but he refused, and put up a big ole compound. They were strange folk. The klind who would shoot you for lookin at em the wrong way. Cletus didn't like it. But who was he to get involved? He just stayed on his property, and minded his own business. Then one night some of the men from the post came onto his land, and shot up his barn, killed his cows, and slit his pet snake Darla down the middle. Cletus was furious. But even in his rage, he wasn't the type to go against 100 armed thugs with just his trusty rifle felicity. So he has been biding his time, and waiting. He watches the comings and goings, and every so often if one of the mercs ventures too far away from his friends... well he just doesn't come back, the coyotes don't go hungry, and there is one more notch in the post by the door.

ROLEPLAY SAMPLE

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Cletus crouched atop a large rock, and looked at the man tied to the tree in front of him. Hands tied at the wrist, and pulled up above his head. The man looked back at Cletus, eyes wide. He was terrified. Cletus snorted derisively. "Ain' you mercenaries spose' to be hard boiled sonsabitches? All guts, and whatnot? None a this lookin' like you is a three year old who can find his mamma." Cletus hopped gracefully off the rock, and stepped in closer to the prisoner, placing his big knife delicately against the man's neck. The mercenary tried to talk, but the thick gag tied between his teeth reduced his frantic words to mumbles. "Speak up boy." He said, with a wry grin. "I can' hear ya beggin for yer life if ya don't speak up."

Cletus moved his knife slowly up to the man's left ear. His eyes flashed, and with a deft flick, he removed the ear entirely. Even through the gag, the scream of agony echoed through the air. The birds in the tree above took flight. "Awww shit." Cletus muttered. "What'd ya go do that for?? Now them damn rat bastards at your little fort are gonna come a runnin...." If possible, the man's eyes grew even wider. "I was hopin' to have a whole day to get to know ya, but looks like we is gonna have to.... axe-sellerate the process." He grinned a wild, animal grin. A horrible, gut wrenching scream broke the air, and was cut short.

***10 Minutes Later****

Cletus walked out of the thicket, thrusting his knife into his belt. "Stupid rutting piece of shit. Ruining my fun."

He made his way back to the farm house, looking at the sun coming up. In the distance, a siren sounded on the base. They had discovered one of their lambs to be missing. Cletus sighed, and stretched. "Y'aint gonna find him." He said, for no one's benefit. He walked into the farm house, the screen door slamming behind him.

Player name/alias: Lars
Roleplay Experience: 2-3 years now? I dunno. Verse, BSH, BSH Re-imagined, BSH 2.0, BST.....
How You Found DoS: Roger made me do it.
Other Characters on the Site: Not at this time.
Preferred Method of Contact: PM. Skype. Etc.
Anything else: No? I dunno. Not that I can think of.

Password: irohuqrb

[Roger]