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Message: <blockquote data-quote="flyingricepaddy" data-source="post: 1328040" data-attributes="member: 15946">Mick Bazly (Mychajlo Bazylevich)Smart 3Occupation: Rural (Drive, Handle Animal)Age: 22Height: 5'11"Weight: 190lbsEyes: BrownHair: Dirty BlondeSTR 12DEX 14CON 14INT 14WIS 14CHA 12HP 20 (8+6+6)AC 13INIT +2BAB +1MAB +2RAB +3FORT +3REFL +3WILL +6Rep +1AP 16Wealth 12SKILLSComputer Use      8  (6+2INT)Craft-elec       10  (6+2INT+2FEAT)Craft-mech       10  (6+2INT+2FEAT)Craft-struct      6  (4+2INT)Demolitions       6  (4+2INT)Disable Device    8  (6+2INT)Drive            10  (6+2DEX+2FEAT)Forgery           6  (4+2INT)Handle Animal     7  (6+1CHA)Know-tech         6  (4+2INT)Navigate          6  (4+2INT)Profession        4  (2+2WIS)Repair           11  (6+2INT+3SAV)Speak, read and write: UkrainianFEATSSimple Weapon ProfPersonal Firearm ProfBuilder (elec, mech)Vehicle ExpertDriveby ShootingIron WillTALENTSSavant-RepairPlanLOOT OF NOTEFirearms licenseOld hunting rifle (Winch94)Even Older double-barrelled shotgun (as sawed-off, but not sawed-off)1983 Ford F1503 year old laptopMechanical tool kit (basic)Electrical tool kit (basic)DucktapeMultipurpose toolBinocularsCompassA lifetime supply of plaid shirtsThe complete works of Johnny CashBEST FRIENDPes - German-Retriever cross trained for Hunting, obeys only Mick.BACKGROUNDMick's dad brought the family over from Ukraine when Mick was still a kid, barely out of diapers. Dad used to be a pretty well-off business man of some sort, but things turned sour somehow--Mick never did get all the details. At any rate, they ended up on the outskirts of a small midwestern town.Mick's childhood was pretty average, but most of his time since adolescence has been spent on his own, messing around with gizmos of various sorts. Mechanical devices, to start out with--starting with the lawnmower, then an old motorcycle, and finally (after much negotiating with his father) tinkering around with the family truck. When his dad brought home a computer, he started fooling around with that, as well. And got pretty good at it, too.In high school Mick excelled in shop class, of course. He would have excelled in computer class, too, except the school didn't have the budget for such a program. So, as far as the school counsellor was concerned, Mick was destined to be a mechanic. And so that's what he decided to be.After high school, Mick decided to hit the road, taking the old truck his dad had handed down to him. He never really settled down, moving from town to town, picking up work where he could (which didn't turn out to be too difficult). For 4 years, he made his way across the country like this.One fine autumn evening, he was driving down a mostly deserted highway when he ran across a car--a Hummer, curiously enough--stopped at the side of the road with the hood up, and a man crouched down beside it. Mick, of course, pulled over, and got out, calling, "Have a spot of trouble, there?"And this guy got really excited, waving Mick away for whatever reason. And then Mick saw that he had a gun. A pretty big gun. So Mick decided to get his butt back in his truck and be on his way.Too late. Something hit him from behind, and as he tumbled head over heels he saw a flash of something sharp and nasty looking--claws, or maybe some teeth--and a big yellow eye with a slit like a cat's. As he was falling, it occured to him that this critter was really tall, like maybe it was standing up on its hind legs or something, which was a weird thing for a... whatever to do.Mick hit the ground hard, and painfully. Then there was a loud, sharp noise, and a really ugly sounding squeal. And then he was pulled to his feet by the man with the big gun. "Hi, I'm Mick," was the first thing Mick said. That sounded a bit inadequate, so he added, "So. What the heck was that?" The next few hours were a blur--a really, really stressful blur. But he got through it all OK, and somehow ended up with a steady job to boot.DESCRIPTIONMick has an open, honest face, with a large forehead and cheekbones that look like they were drawn with a ruler. He almost always has a good-natured smile on his face, and over time its constant presence tends to give one the impression that Mick isn't the brightest guy in the world. This impression is only reinforced when he opens his mouth to talk--his speech is slow and simplistic.His standard outfit is boots, jeans, and plaid shirt. He brings his dog Pes (which means "dog") with him wherever he goes, if at all possible.</blockquote>

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