"As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil for thou art with me..."
James Casy is the son of a preacher father and seamstress mother, raised in the Morman-centric town of New Canaan. Life was relatively peaceful in the small settlement, though "peaceful" has a way of running side by side with "boredom" in the minds of small children. But hardwork and patience were virtues instilled into Casy at a young age, and the boy was rarely one to complain. Jim's father was hoping his son would follow in his footsteps, but while James was willing to keep his head down and keep himself busy, he never shook that feeling that there must be something more to life than diligently studying scriptures in a small town.
This wasn't to say Casy wasn't devout, however, and once he became of age he made a compromise with his father; he'd leave New Canaan to feed his wanderlust while spreading the word of God as a Mormon missionary. After a few months of surivival training-- including how to properly handle a gun should he encounter any unruly wildlife-- Casy set out. His path led him across the Utah border into Nevada, and it wasn't until he was out into the wild wastelands that he realized just how incredibly green he was.
Having never ventured far outside of the New Canaan area, Casy had an almost idyllic idea of how the world worked. It may be the apocalypse, but surely that meant to triumph of the human spirit would prevail and mankind would come together to rebuild. The traders that rolled through New Canaan had stories of things like slave traders and swindlers, but it wasn't until he encountered them firsthand that Casy accepted how naive he truly was. It was a harsh wake up call, but one he desperately needed if he was going to survive outside the walls of his childhood home.
During his time in Nevada Casy became familiar with the NCR, who had started to expand their borders eastward from California. They seemed to do good work for the poor folks of the Mojave, at least from what he saw, and while he had never given much thought to a military lifestyle, Casy grew to hold a keen sort of respect for the boys and girls of the NCR. He spent long spans of time on the road, always returning to New Canaan eventually. Though the final time he went back to his home, his world would be irreversibly tunred on its head.
New Canaan had been burnt to the ground, his childhood home nothing more than ash and broken, scorched framework, the church his father had preached at for years in the same sorry shape. It wouldn't be until some time later that Casy found out who had razed the town: a tribal group known as the White Legs. The gang had wanted to join Caesar's Legion and thought an act of such extreme violence would impress them. Casy was without a home and, as far as he knew, without a family at 23, and had to decided what to do with himself now that he had no ties left.
The decision was an easy one: head back to Nevada and join ranks with the NCR. Food and shelter are vastly important in the wasteland, and the NCR could offer both now that he had no reliable way to get either. But more than that, Casy was a man with a newly shaken faith and a personal vendetta against the Legion. God said love thy neighbor, but what sort of god would allow such atrocities to happen and expect him to turn a blind eye?
These days Casy lives the life of an NCR trooper, going where he's needed in the Mojave to keep the peace. It's been five years since he last left New Canaan, and while the pain and anger have subsided some, the old wound is still deep enough to keep him at odds with the Legion.
Casy is a bit on the quiet side, not shy per se but also not one to run his mouth simply for the sake of hearing his own voice. If he feels he has something important to say, he'll speak his mind, but if not? Well, he's fine with just hanging back and listening. Being raised in a Morman household has instilled in him some very pious traits, namely a good work ethic, general willingness to help others, and the idea that sin is unwaveringly forbidden.
That means no booze, no drugs, and no sex. Casy hasn't ever tasted whiskey, gotten high, or done the horizontal tango. This doesn't mean Casy doesn't like to have fun, he just looks for it elsewhere. He won't judge anyone else who chooses to partake of these things, however. He may be religious, but he was raised to respect others, and though he has a slight preachy side to him, he knows when and where to utilize it.
Casy excels as a soldier because he's a good "yes man", always one to follow his superior's orders with little to no complaints. He'll shoot the shit with his squad mates after hours, even if that means hanging out at a bar; he'll happily nurse a NukaCola while everyone else downs something stronger. He has a bit of a humorous streak in him, relying more on the lowest form of humor-- aka puns or dreaded "dad jokes"-- than anything dark or sarcastic. Oddly optimistic all things considered, Casy truly believes God has a plan even outside the few doubts he has regarding his faith. He still tries to walk the path of the righteous, even though the unforgiving Mojave may have other plans
Casy isn't the tallest man raoming the wastes, clocking in at an average 5'10", with brown hair and eyes to match. He has a bit of a weathered look to him, spending most of his days outon patrol in the unforgiving Mojave weather. Rarely one to shave, Casy can be found sporting everything from a five o'clock shadow to a full blown beard.
- Mr. Casy (father: deceased)
- Mrs. Casy (mother: deceased)
- "Oh gosh!"
- "I was actually spreading the word on the evils of drinking and, er... having relations."
- "Ranger Lancester, I would politely ask that you don't touch my... my... hiney again."
- "N-NIGHTSTALKER IN THE BATHROOM!"