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"Brevity? Is that another dig at my rampant verbosity?"'

Lawrence Cassedy
LawrenceProfile
Nickname Blowhard
Karma Renegade of the Wastes
Age 141
Gender Male
Eye Color Brown
Hair Color In all the wrong places
Class Super Mutant
Profession Wanderer
Affiliation Jacobstown
Face Claim Nikolai Valuev
Player darkkenchild

History Edit

Background Edit

Lawrence remembers little of his younger years, the time before he became a Super Mutant. He remembers a self-contained environment, where he felt safe and secure. Soldiers guarded their metallic cave and those who huddled inside for protection from the dangers outside. He remembers terror when hulking brutes broke through those defenses and cut down any who resisted. He remembers being drug out of his safe home and into the harsh light of the Mojave. He remembers terror as he waited and watched as his companions were dipped in large vats of chemicals and mutated horribly. The last thing he remembers from those times is the pain; it was excruciating as flesh and bone were torn apart and put back together in his new hulking frame. 

After that, he spent the next few decades loyally serving the Master and his goals of world domination. He felt no real loyalty to the mutated man, but saw few other options. The trauma of being ripped from the safety of his Vault and the FEV had distorted his memories, robbed him of his identity, and left him unsure of anything about himself or the world around him. Instead, he answered to his rank and serial number alone, and followed his orders methodically. He was a man with no past and no future, so for the present he had served. He fought against a human warrior, another former Vault Dweller, barely escaping this combat with his life. The man who would be Lawrence retreated to the hills of the Wastes and watched as Mariposa was destroyed; a second time, he had lost his home and his purpose. 

After some time in the Wastes, alternating between cowering in fear and attacking anything he found in a fit of frustrated rage, he sought out others of his kind. He had hoped for an identity, a purpose, in rejoining the other Mutants. He found that the small Super Mutant race was fracturing, externalizing his own internal struggle for identity. He watched as some left, following the hope of finding hope to the far East. He watched as some followed the madness of trying to continue the work of the fallen Master, he wanted no part. Instead, he followed in the footsteps of the other undecided Mutants. He remained in the Core Region at first, but soon found himself wandering further and further afield. 

After a few years of wandering, learning and growing as a person and an individual, he decided it was time to choose a new name. Twice he had lost his home, and twice he had lost a name. Now, he chose to remedy one, even if he couldn’t fix the former he could take on a new name. He had found a variety of books and records from before the war in his travels. Ferlinghetti, Kerouac, Ginsberg, Kyger and more became his new masters. Out of respect to the gurus which spoke to him from the past, he chose his name. Lawrence Ferlinghetti and the Cassadys inspired him and he took his name from them; Lawrence Cassady felt himself the latest link in a powerful and ancient chain stretching from antiquity through the Beats that inspired him and through him to the future. 

When the newly christened Lawrence caught wind of a Super Mutant who had befriended one of their traditional enemies and boned to a member of the Brotherhood of Steel, Lawrence was inspired. He sought them out, and joined the throngs that followed Marcus and Jacob through the wastes. He learned much and began to adapt the teaching from his books to the world of the Wastes, inspired by the wisdom and strength of Jacob and Marcus. When the pair and their followers settled in Broken Hills, Lawrence followed suit, for a time. He never felt like the town was his home, and he often wandered away from the settlement for months, or even years. Eventually, after having wandered for a number of years, Lawrence returned to find the town abandoned. In a way, he had lost a third home. Though saddened, he never felt like he belonged there, so he put his feet on the road and began to wander again; and he began to consider the open road as his only and forever home. 

Over time, Lawrence wandered east. He found himself more comfortable in the less populated and less organized territories of the Mojave. Despite his proximity, Lawrence ignored the calls of Tabitha to join her and the nightkin of Black Mountain; he sees them as little more than brutes and monsters, the worst of the Mutant race. Surprisingly, however, Lawrence found his path crossing with Marcus yet again. The latter of the two mutants began to put out a counter-call, seeking out more reasonable and/or peaceful Mutants to help him maintain alternative sanctuary for their kind. Proud to help, Lawrence sought out his former messiah and offered to help in any way he could. As Jacobstown grew stronger, Lawrence found himself less rooted to it than he had initially thought. He supported Marcus’s goals, and he promised to always come to the aid of Jacobstown when it was needed, but he could not remain there. 

Now, reaffirmed in his itinerant lifestyle, Lawrence wanders the Mojave Wasteland with purpose. He seeks to learn everything he can from the others of the Wastes and to teach them anything he can, as well. 

Continuing Adventures Edit

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Death Edit

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Personality Edit

Zenned out, Neo-Romantic Beat Shramana. At least, that is how Lawrence would describe himself. He is a proud student of the “Beat” generation of writers and philosophers, and he has internalized their methods of though to the point of becoming a lifestyle. 

He lets nothing bother him overmuch. Borrowing some elements of Eastern philosophy and Buddhism through the lens of the rebellious writers of the pre-war world, Lawrence tries to live up to the ideas of the Zen monks of the past. This does not mean that he denies the darker and more violent nature of his Super Mutant nature, but rather he attempts to balance these urges with meditation and self-control. These strategies do much to calm and center Lawrence, but this self-awareness also leads him to sometimes embracing his brutish side, as it is in his nature as much as his zen-style mindset. It all comes down to finding the balance between all aspects of his life. 

Another element that Lawrence has internalized from his Beat idols is the idea of Neo-Romanticism. The emphasis of those writers on the human condition and emotion has inspired Lawrence. Adding to and enhancing his understanding of Zen ideas, Lawrence embraces every element that remains within him that makes him human. He does not, however, ever deny that, while he is still human on some level, he is not such a simple creature any more. This has led to a desire to find exactly what it is that makes a Super Mutant, and where he fits into the world around him as a result. 

This quest to find self-identity has led Lawrence to only one conclusion, that the quest itself is all important. Following in the footsteps of both Kerouac and the wandering monks of antiquity, Lawrence has set himself on the path of the Shramanas. Through travel and interaction with the world as a whole, he can find the truth that he so doggedly seeks. It is through struggle, strife, and suffering that knowledge of the self and the world can be found. Thus, he has put himself into a self-imposed exile and denied himself a true “home.” He will walk the lonely roads of the Wastes for as long as his feet will carry him forward, and thus he hopes to someday find enlightenment. 

Appearance Edit

Lawrence is typical of the Super Mutant breed. He’s a large, bulky, meat miracle of a man; standing roughly seven feet tall and almost as wide. His skin is a sickly yellow-brown color and he is nearly hairless, at least he only seems to have hair where he shouldn’t. 

Relations Edit

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Quotes Edit

  • “’Fucking blowhard.’ My apologies, I did not mean to misquote. It has been so long, and almost as long since I last heard some of the colorful language of you soldier-types."
  • “Careful with that razor wit, though, if one is not careful it is far to easy for it to cut both ways.”
  • "Time and tide make fools of us all…"

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