Mark Anderson

"God.. You are something else.." - Sophie Pamino

Personality
Mark Anderson has been shown to be extremely kind and generous, as shown by how much he gives away for free. He always did what was best for his citizens, but this also includes he did whatever it took to keep them safe.

Mark Anderson was willing to destroy every single faction who dared to threaten Lakewood's safety. He easily lost his patience and his cool during intense situations, such as the Lakewood vs Brotherhood Attack I.

Appearance
Mark Anderson is somewhat skinny, and has an average caucasian skin tone. He has brown hair with some grey stress streaks in it. He likes to wear a dark brown, long-sleeve shirt, which has gained a hole in the chest area, with blood stains on it.

He wears blue jeans, kept on my a standard black belt. He wears black, featurless shoes.

On his face, he has a dark grey mask with a cylinder jetting out of it about 5 inches. The cylinder is a lighter grey than the base of the mask.Out of the two left and right sides of the cylinder are thick tubes of the same color that wrap around the mask to the back of Mark's head. The tubes are kept in place by clamps drilled into the mask. The mask itself has several bolts, tightly drilled into Mark Anderson's skull.

Once the tubes meet at the back of his head, they go down to a large pill shaped container held onto his back by thick black straps that go over his body as you can see in the picture of him. The pill shaped container itself does not have much features on the outside, while on the inside are many mechanisms working furiously to keep Mark Anderson's lungs working properly and to make sure he doesn't start bleeding from lack of jaw.

Skills and Attributes
Mark Anderson is extremely skilled in programming and engineering. This is especially shown with his work on the M4RK, which he programmed alone.

He has been shown to have excellent leadership skills and high amounts of ambition.

He is well skilled with energy weapons, plasma ones in particular. He was able to enhance his plasma rifle to have better aim and do more damage.

History
Mark Anderson was an accidental baby, born in the city of New Vegas. His prostitute mother was drunk at the time of his birth and laid him near a dumpster while she went to work. He wondered off and crawled into the streets.

One man saw this small baby alone on the pavement and took pity on the only two month old thing. He grabbed the baby and walked to the Strip, having enough money for the credit check. Over the years Mark Anderson was raised in a hotel room at Gomorrah. He had trouble breathing as a child, and the cigarette smoke and fire at the Gomorrah didn't help.

Though Mark's father was strict about making too much noise whenever he was giving women 'special hugs' for two pathetic minutes. Often, if Mark was bad, he would be spanked and held above a lit ashtray as punishment. Though if he were good, he was given a lapdance by one of the strippers.

Though the rewards changed when Mark turned eight and told his father he wanted to become a prostitute someday. Though he wasn't even blood related, his father would not allow his son to end up like one of the women working here. He got another job to support for a room located at The Tops Casino.

It wasn't much better than Gomorrah, but at the least it was not a sex and drug fiasco 24/7. Though with this new change in where Mark Anderson lived, his rarely got to see his father, or anybody else for that matter. Sure he would sneak out of the room to see what entertainment was on, but was caught by the staff who had been paid a few caps to keep Mark in his room.

Eventually Mark gave up on sneaking out of his room and relied on the terminal and the books in his room for entertainment. Though once he was 13-years-old, he had read everything in his room. He began to tinker with the terminal, getting a feel for how it ticks.

Though this isn't enough for a growing child. Deprived of sociality, he thought about what he could have done to deserve this. He looked at his past and realized he was never kind to women, he stole, cheated, lied. Everything he learned from the Gomorrah.

He vowed to never do what he had done in the past, fearing he may be isolated further. Eventually however, he turned eighteen, and could leave his room without being apprehended. He walked out of the Strip, ready to leave the hellhole that is New Vegas.

Though he joy was cut short when he was attacked by a stranger just outside the Strip gate. The maniac had a machete and sliced most of Mark's jaw right off. The stranger was shot down by a man in a labcoat who hoisted Mark over his shoulder and ran into some place. He passed out just he was thrown onto a table.

When Mark woke up he felt an itch on his face. When he reahced to scratch, he felt plastic and metal. He jumped up to see where he was. The memories of jaw slicing flooded back to him. He panicked as doctors around him tried to calm him down.

He was strappped down to the table and after twenty minutes, he calmed down to listen to the doctors. They called themselves the Followers of The Apocalypse. He was told he was in some placed called the Mormon Fort. They tried to stop the bleeding of his jaw, and succeeded. Though once they saw him go into a major coughing fit, and realized eating would be a problem, they gave him the A.V.I.L.P. (Air & Vitamin Injecting Life Preserver). Also it looked a lot better than a man with a jaw that made a ghoul look handsome.

He was astonished to learn that some of the doctors were women. Not that he disrespected them anymore, but he didn't realize they were intelligent too! It took a few months of getting used to, but he was able to walk around normally with the Avilp attatched to his back and face. He thanked the Followers and swore he would repay them some day for this kind act.

His incident may have scarred his face, but left him more observant. He constantly looked around him as he walked the streets.

He did multiple odd jobs around Freeside, trying to raise enough money for a weapon of protection. Though he knew intimidation was key. After a back-breaking year, he finally had the caps to buy a Plasma Rifle from the Silver Rush and a Brahman from the Crimson Caravan. He packed a few cells for his Rifle and some stimpaks for the road and left New Vegas a changed man.

As instructed, he would need to pour dirt into the Avilp once a day. The Avilp would break the dirt down for any nutrients and then spit out the waste from the bottom. Truth be told, he was somewhat glad he got his jaw taken off. No need to eat or breathe on his own. And the thing kept him hydrated with the moisture in the air!

He rode atop his Brahman at a nice pace away from the Mojave, glad to be leaving the land of sin and death. He was not too sure of what direction to go in, but after examaning some terminals, he found quite a bit of information concerning the annexation of some place called Canada into America. He wasn't sure what it meant, but decided it was the best place to go since he had nowhere else.

As years passed, he was forced to kill some people, causing him to vomit in his Avilp and go through the long process of cleaning it out. Eventually it came a bit more naturally (Or as naturall as killing someone can be). He threw any useful supplies on the back of his Brahman and continued his journey northward.

Once he was far enough north, it grew a slight bit colder than what Mark was used to in the Mojave. He guessed by looking at a map that Canada would be a cold enviroment, and has assumed that what is the state of Washington is what his destination has been.

He found an abandoned town a few miles from Seattle. Many towns were just like this, in ruin, nobody living in it. But when he saw a store that read, "Anderson Family Store," he knew he had to stay. For five years, Mark Anderson lived alone in Lakewood, doing reapirs to the buildings in the town.

Eventually, he paid a visit to Emerald City   ( Fuck I'll finish writing this later )