Millie 'Minx' Mae

Minx has lots of habits, quirks, and all around is a very animated person. Her expressions are very clear and she doesn’t often seem to wear a mask to her emotions. She lives in the moment mostly, and has little regrets.
She tends to curse without filter, bed without shame, and has a moral compass that is always spinning. Minx jokes in most of her conversations although manages to keep somewhat of an air of confidence and seriousness to her while she does so.
Most days she has purple paint smeared over her entire face, or other days not. She needs prescription lenses to see properly but can traverse the landscape with little difficulty without them. She often wears different frames of glasses or sunglasses if she needs them (or not). The raider tends to wear whatever clothes she can find, as she can alter them later on into something more functional. Most of her clothes are patchwork or intact. There isn’t much in between anymore. She also has a lot of hats. It may be worth noting that she could be a collector of hats. They are taken care of much more than the rest of her wardrobe.
The raider herself is somewhat tall, not too much, her hair is shaved except the top which she keeps tied up in a tail or down to the side. The strands seem to be caked with something pinkish purple, but if she washed it out her hair would be nearly black.
Minx doesn’t tan much, she burns and goes almost back to her original skin tone. Sometimes she’ll have a slight line around her arms from clothes but it usually fades within a week. She’s pale, almost ivory, if it weren’t for the slight rosacea over her hands, face, and neck. She has a few beauty marks on her face, the largest looking about the size of a marker tip that a child has ruined. It’s under her left eye in the middle of her cheek, though it seems to fade by the year. She’ll often scratch her cheek at this spot as a nervous tick.
Even though she is a raider, Minx has a tendency to be more than capable of living on her own and not necessarily killing people for supplies or food. It’s just easier when someone unsuspecting walks past. She does always try to give them the opportunity to run, though not as many as you’d think would take the offer.
Hmmm. It’s almost like people don’t like their shit being taken from them.
She won’t hesitate to kill when needed, however unlike many raiders she won’t be the first to attack. While she doesn’t seem to care much for human lives, as she can often be found morning animals, or being put into a rage if she finds evidence of killing for sport, yet human remains will get little more than a once over for valuables.
Minx was raised near the Vault Tech University where her family had done their best to cram her head with knowledge from the world they had been raised in. Growing bored of this life around nine, Minx began to leave home for short intervals, surviving the wastes nearby for a few days before returning.
Eventually she would leave permanently, she doesn’t talk much about her life with her family, or of them, really. She likes to believe her life began when she cut them from her life.
While leaving was probably the best moment in her life, Minx was also not adapted to watching out for anything other than mole rats, ghouls, and occasionally mongrels or wolves.
Her first encounter with Yao Guai had nearly killed her, although the bear was gravely injured when it happened upon her camp and she was able to get out alive.
Now scared, injured, and alone, Minx would do the best she could with the minimal supplies she was able to stash away to patch herself up.
There are deep claw scars in her right side from the bear, and the wound, while now old, appears to have been badly infected at one point. She doesn’t speak of this time much either, but she smiles and just says something along the lines of owing a few scout leaders her life.
This is probably enough information to safely assume she had stumbled upon the Pioneer Scouts. She likes to talk without directly saying what she is referring to. Says people need to learn to think more.
Minx doesn’t like the sound of gunfire so she normally avoids it as often as possible. She can shoot somewhat decently, however she prefers weapons that can be swung, thrown, or launched. Her favorite is a bent up Death Tambo that is usually strapped to her hip. She has also been seen with axes, mole miner gauntlets and other more easily obtained weaponry. These are never fixed or repaired, just discarded or used for scrap. Only her trusty Tambo has lasted more than a few weeks in her possession. Sometimes she’ll play it and hum a tune, although she won’t in front of people unless she is completely comfortable around them.
She’s hard to predict as she tends to avoid going the same route she’s been before. Minx lives chaotically and never seems to pick or choose a side. As she likes to stay out of the frey and out of the problem, but when put into said situations, she usually shows an almost robotic approach to fixing what needs to be done. She is calm in tense atmosphere and can usually keep her cool while under stress.
While the raider herself doesn’t particularly enjoy being forced into things, if she feels even the slightest amount of motivation to go somewhere or do it, she will. If it’s not her idea though, she won’t.
Quotes she may or may not use:
“Not my monkeys, not my circus.”
“Excuse me, but shut the fuck up.”
“You’re preaching the wrong sermon in the wrong church to the wrong people, bud.”
Category:Archived characters