Davis
 | |
| Full name | Davis Bandarra |
|---|---|
| Date of Birth | 23 July 2497 |
| Birthplace | Hera |
| Parents | Died at Three Hills |
| Siblings | Matthew (Deceased) |
| Spouse | None |
| Children | None |
| Assignment | Merc, Pathfinders |
| Specialization | Sniper / CQC |
| Gender | Male |
| Eyes and Hair | Grey, Brown |
| Height and Weight | 6' 6", 191 lbs |
| Status | Active |
| Education Information | |
|
Home schooled on Hera. | |
| Military Service | |
|
Various PMCs | |
| Employment History | |
|
Various PMCs, Death Corps PMC (NPC), Phoenix Brotherhood, Bounty Hunters Guild, Bengalo Draba, Tranquility (Pathfinders) | |
The Basics
Ruthlessly practical, perpetually furious, and about as tactful as a thrown brick. Spending your entire twenties in mercenary outlets will do that to you.
His parents were idiots, now dead idiots, and his brother was a legend that taught him everything he knew. Serious. There's a statue of him in a little town on Hera. His brother taught Davis to trust his reflexes and be fast. The mercs gave him the opportunity to indulge the bloodlust he kept bottled up. And the bloodlust drove him to the drink every single night for eighteen years.
He's killed people. A lot of people. Most of them deserved it. Some didn't. Took him a while to get over that, but hey, when you've spent the last few years getting sold out by one group or another, it tends to take your focus away from little things like being a reluctant murderer.
He builds card towers in his spare time. Teaches him patience because they keep bloody falling down on him. Like he doesn't already have enough. Man's a sniper. He'll sit in a little hole in the ground for weeks if it meant he got to put a bullet through the throat of someone he really wanted dead.
