Ben Hudson (RP Character)
From Brass Goggles
Revision as of 21:04, 29 October 2008
BEN HUDSON
Summary:
Hudson is the captain of the Boheme and has been onboard throughout its travels. See the story page for more info. For a character overview, see the entry below.
Status: Ben Hudson is a PC of the forum member by the same name. However, the real Ben Hudson is pretty busy at the moment, what with education and stuff. So he doesn't mind the character being run as a NPC if needed.
Character Guide Entry:
Name: Ben Hudson
Age: 28
Nationality (place of birth): He was born at N 61° 26.3, W 15° 17.6, according to ship's logs. For sake of ease, he calls himself English.
Physical appearance: Ben's dark blond hair runs past his shoulders when it is let loose. Usually, however, it is kept tied back for the sake of neatness and safety in the air. His face is unremarkable, but he has ice-blue eyes, that if he is a little critical (which he often is), are rather deep-set. His facial hair is trimmed into sideburns. He stands just over six feet tall in his boots, and is of a lithe and hardy form. Many men have made the mistake of assuming his slim figure meant a lack of muscle, but a lifetime working in the air has given him a lean, tough strength. His body itself shows the marks of a life of hard work - his hands are covered in calluses and scars, though thankfully all his major body parts are still intact. His normal dress is that of a working man - a collarless shirt in grubby white or black (sleeves rolled up), tucked into cargo trousers, patched and darned in many parts, and a waistcoat on top. He is no skally, mind. When the occasion comes he is at home in a three-piece charcoal suit or a dinner jacket. But practicality dominates his day-to-day dress. His footwear usually consists of leather high-top boots with good grip. He is fond of leather, knowing it to be both hardwearing, warm, and a fair protection against backstreet skivs to boot. In high winds or cold climes he is rarely found without his high-collared trenchcoat, and both of his wrists have leather cuffs he was given by an Icelandic aerotrader.
Profession / job title: A lifetime of work in the air has led him through all related professions. Until recently, he was an engineer on a transport zep. That left behind, he is the captain of the APF Bohème, a captain without a crew for now.
Biography: Born in the air above the sea between Iceland and Scotland, he grew up on a small courier airship, who were glad to have an extra hand once he was old enough to help. His mother was killed when she fell off the envelope mending rips caused in a storm. He never knew his father, and it's equally likely that his mother didn't either. As a result, he was raised by the navigator of the airship Beckwith until it was brought down by Teutonic raiders. He survived the ensuing fire and sea landing, and was washed ashore at Swanage, England, having clung to a barrel for hours in the water. Having no means at all, he lived in England for a while working in a foundry. This was the first country he had spent more than a fortnight in, so from that time onwards he claimed to be English, not from birth or descent, but luck. This was, however, just a matter of conveniance. No country can count on his loyalty or patriotism. The belief that no man can exercise control over another without contravening his rights led him to rebel against governments and got him into trouble with the law. Nonetheless, he tries to maintain a respectable existance. Courtesy is foremost in his mind. By the time he was eighteen, he had tired of the hot, dangerous work of the steel industry, and instead looked for a job in the cold, more dangerous world of airships. He crewed upon transport ships for a few years, taking all manner of goods from England to the Americas and Europe. Slowly, and with hard work and determination, he built up his status with various crews until he was head engineer on a two-hundred yard airship carrying black powder around the world, a dangerous job that has brought him into close contact with pirates. Though he always did his duty in defending his cargo, he cannot help but agree with their principals. By twenty five, he had become bored with the shuttle runs that his job entailed. He worked for another year, living on a shoestring, then left his post with his savings. With this small bundle of money, he visited scrapyards the world over looking for airship parts. The aluminium half-ribs from a Indonesian privateer ship, the rubberised silk from a British skiff, the forty-cal guns from an American ironclad, and countless sheets of scrap aluminium were salvaged for a pittance. Using his skill as an engineer, and the help of a few good friends, he built his own airship, the hundred-yard Bohème. It leaks in places, and his special high-methanol fuel is wreaking havoc on the aluminium Rolls-Royce Condor aeroengines, but he has yet to find himself in a position he can't get out of in it. His intentions for the future? He hasn't got any real ideas. First of all, he needs to get a crew for his airship. Then he needs to find the money to pay off his debts, and he has a feeling that it might be that very thing that finally gets him into trouble for good. La Bohème is moored in London, which seemed as good a place as any to start his climb into fame or infamy.
