The radio man - one of the major forces keeping the post-apocalyptic Sunderscape community pulled together and well-informed. He's also known for rescuing stragglers, people lost in the wastelands.

Sacha

Male

31

About 180 lbs.

6'3

Pale blond hair, with darker brows.

Messy and floofy; gives him a soft air in most instances. It curls around his ears, past his temples, and reaches to the nape of his neck. Mostly it's left to do whatever it wants!

None

Pale grey eyes like the steely light of a cold dawn.

Human

Naturally pale; he's a bit burnished from his time spent traveling, though.

Big-boned - has a tank's body type, built for defense and savage melee combat.

A small set of deep scratches underneath his left eye. They've scarred over, but they look like they must have hurt.

Tilting his head to comprehend things better, smiling freely, lowering his head in tense situations as if to take stock of how best to go for the other person's throat.

He wants to help. He's something of an atoner who's long since learned from some past callousness, and now the only thing he can do if he wants to be at peace is to help others.

He wants to be trusted, and he wants to be valued. His desire for others to feel safe with him leads him to become overconfident and make too-hasty decisions.

Nothing verbally or behaviorally expressed - at least, not to those who aren't very perceptive - but some have watched his eyes tighten slightly at people who claim to come from the east. He seems to have something dear held against the supposed bandits and murderers that inhabit the eastern regions, and for him, cutthroat and opportunistic behavior is enough for him to brand people easterners.

He's articulate and good at navigating; he's skilled with an ax and he is strong as heck.

Listening to/singing to music, watching others go about their business, reading.

He's soft-hearted and a strange sort of calm. He combines matter-of-fact understanding with brutal optimism and a self-assured sense of knowing. He's given to laughter and freely shows affection.

The host of the slapdash radio program put together to keep the remnants of post-apocalyptic society together and informed. Mostly, he travels a set of distinct routes and keeps close tabs on how the other specialists are doing - he puts together everyone's reports on the landscape and any new arrivals in a biweekly news session, speaking about everything from shifting gravity in the northern ashfields to expected winter strikes to the new amnesiac kid he found half-dead in the middle of nowhere.

Yellow! It's a bright color, happy, and easy to spot. The exploration specialist actually has a yellow scarf, and Sacha is almost jealous.

Not so much a favorite food as a favorite drink, but Sacha likes tea a lot - especially the herbal ones. He's perfectly content to sit in a corner with a cup of hot tea and just watch everyone go about their business.

His recorder. Sure, the radio station he found and adopted is up there in terms of favorite possessions but at least with his recorder he could still have a basic way of cataloguing the sunderscape's goings-on.

His ax. He can use a gun, and he can throw a knife, but he can and will choose to get up close and personal and start swinging with his blade-on-a-stick with all the grim glee of a bandit raiding a weapons arsenal. His ax's name is Felix.

Quail. He's happy they're still around to make their little birdcalls and dash across the sand in lines - as far as he can tell, the cataclysm wiped out quite a few other species.

Radio Host.

January 18th. Or, well, sometime around there. Mostly he picked a date that could have been his birthdate, like everyone else.

He's pretty well-educated - he was raised around stacks of books, most of them educational. He speaks textbook-proper languages and has engineering and radio experience.

Sacha has been a staple in the larger Sunderscape communities for as long as everyone can remember. He's said to have been from one of the mysterious eastern subsocieties, but that's mostly based off of his melee prowess and watchful tics more than anything he's admitted to - and he laughs when anyone mentions as much, so he may find it all a cute joke anyway. He lived mostly in Wintergreen, one of the largest wasteland towns, but took to his wayfaring, narrating ways very early on.