"The other knights weren't too happy that I left in the middle of their 'classified projects'."
|Karma||Guardian of the Wastes|
|Face Claim||Meera Jasmine|
Jazz was born into the Brotherhood of Steel to a proud paladin of a father and an accomplished scribe of a mother. She grew up around technology and she took to machines with gusto. She was seen as being on the fast track to success within the organization, but her superiors were already growing worried when she had reached her mid-teens. She had a tendency to wander off, visiting the villages and outposts of the Mojave with great frequency. Whenever she was confronted with these odd predilections, she would give a noncommittal response and hint that she was looking for leads on finding more lost technology to bring home. In reality, she had little interest in doing anything of the sort. She thought the hoarding of technology was selfish and foolhardy. After all, how could the world be rebuilt if all the worthwhile technology was tucked away and kept from the people who needed it. Her oddity was tolerated as the folly of youth, and with no small amount of coasting on her parents' reputation.
As time went on and Jazz grew older, she spent more and more time afield. She missed the solitude that the Brotherhood afforded her, sure, but that was all she missed. She found more and more excuses to be out in the world and interacting with typical wastelanders. When she did return, she would be receive increasing amounts of punishments and lectures for her actions; this only served to further drive her further and further from the Brotherhood. Finally, late in her twenty-first year, she simply did not return.
Since then, she's spent most of her time wandering the wastes; putting down roots for a few months to a year in this encampment or that. She never stayed too long, though, as she always feared that the Brotherhood was on her trail and likely to do something drastic to return her to the fold. Wherever she went, she would do whatever she could to make the lives of others better. As a result, she has acquired a positive reputation amongst most of those who inhabit the wastelands. She favors no faction and will help anyone with a need (and the caps, a girl has to eat after all). She is always looking over her shoulder, though, as she worries that the Brotherhood (or worse, her father) will catch up with her and drag her back to a life of repairing things that will never again see the light of day.
Continuing Adventures Edit
Jazz is a simple creature. Nothing makes her happier than having something to tinker with and some quiet time to herself. Fortunately, the Wastelands have an abundance of the former. Unfortunately, there is precious little of the latter, at least if one wants to survive. She does the best she can, however, and comforts her lack of solitude with the satisfaction of helping others. She throws herself wholeheartedly into any project that is brought to her, and she takes great satisfaction (and admittedly a premium price in caps) in fixing whatever others have broken. She also tends to take an almost philosophical view of her mission in life; after all, the world is in ruins and there's plenty to fix. Each item she fixes, she sees as a microcosm of the world around her; one less broken item or gadget in the world only serves to bring the world one step closer to being whole again.
Jazz has been living in the wastes for a while, and she's spent more than her fair share in the unforgiving sun of the Mojave sun; as a result, her skin is dark and weathered, which is only compounded by her mixed Indian heritage. Also, she always dresses practically; her clothes are plain and sturdy (and obviously often stitched back together) and she holds back her unkempt hair with a simple bandanna.