.:.Benny Gear.:.

[Benny Gear]

Vitals

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Bernadette I. Gear
Nickname(s):
Impact
Age/Grade:
17/Junior
Birthday:
October 31st
Place of Birth:
A hospital?
Ethnicity:
Unknown, but she believes she's of Russian descent.
Height:
5"10
Weight:
135
Blood type:
O+
Hair Color:
Blond
Eye Color:
Light Blue
Sexuality:
Straight
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Persona

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Taken from a video recorded conversation with the local police department on June 21st.

A young girl sat at the end of a long metal table, her blond hair in disarray. Tanned arms were cuffed together but even still a slight smirk lingered along her lips. A cop entered the room, he obviously was tired, the poor man's eyes were baggy and the uniform he was wearing looked slept in and dirty. He looked at the girl, then back at the folder in his hand. Seeing her cocky smile he simply frowned. " So....Impact is it? It says here that you were caught in a gang fight. Again. This is third time but from what I'm reading here...you're not affiliated with either gang? Is that correct?" The child simple shrugged and shuffled in her seat. She was used to the dance. Blah blah blah don't do it again. Blah fucking blah. Her fingernails tapped out a beat on the table, making the old cop twitch with annoyance. " Look kid, one of these days you're gonna tango with someone a lot tougher than you and you'll die. Or worse, I'll have to drag yer sorry ass to jail for assault. Do us a favor just keep outta trouble okay?" Impact rolled her eyes. They didn't understand. She loved to fight. Something about being the best, being able to make others cower in fear, being powerful made her all fuzzy inside. She loved the thrill. Impact loved to be toughest bitch on the block. Sure she had a few good friends to back her up in a bind, close kids that she herself would die for, but there was nothing better than to be victorious. The cop looked at the folder once more, it was clear to see that the girl was going to end up in an early grave one day. From her profile, she was more then a little crazy. Just one of things that happened on the streets, He did have one question though, " Hey kid, it says here that your real name is actually Bernadette Gear, why do they call you Impact?" Benny's eyes turned icy and the cuffs made bell-like noises as she stood, " Because officer, before a fight, my friends shouting prepare for Impact sounds really hella cool." And with that, Bernadette a.k.a Impact, laughed her ass off.

End of recording. Composed mental profile on subject Benny *Impact* Gear = Unstable. Interactions with other humans seem to depend completely on current mood and situation. Subject is unpredictable and impulsive. Monitor at all times. Do not allow use of sharp objects for subject is destructive. End of analysis.

Mentality:
Unstable
Ideal:
Live life to the fullest. Never give up. And for fucks sake have some fun.
Belief:
Atheist.

Hobbies:
Fighting, drinking, smoking, video games, running, sight seeing, bungee jumping, basically anything she finds thrilling.
Talents:
Hiding weapons about her person. Knife throwing. Stealing.
Favorite things:
Rock music, burgers, cigars, booze and men.
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Aesthetics



Benny is in all essence a tank girl. She wears odd and ends of both military uniforms and stripper costumes, her wardrobe is as bi-polar as her personality is. Physically speaking she is very muscular and athletic, although cover in scars. ( Most of them knife wounds.) The girl is pretty tall for her gender and boosts herself up even more with her ever favorite combat boots to tower over the masses. Because she has spent pretty much her whole life in the slums of LA, her skin has tanned to a warm brown and her hair as bleached naturally. Follow that up with a few piercing on each ear and you rough description of Benny's day to day garb.
Combat

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No holds bar. Benny fights like a drunken UFC champion. Think GSP's ground and pound meets Hardy's fierce determination. She has no mercy, takes no prisoners. It's a combination of wrestling, kick-boxing and simple one-two haymakers. She fights to win.
Years Practiced:
17 years of clawing for survival.
Description:
A medley of power packed moves. She can be quick on her feet when needs but Benny prefers to over power her opponents.


History

History:

Taken from a conversation with Bernadette Gear during a court issued anger cousoling.

"So, you want me to just talk about my life? Hell lady, why do you even care? I'm like that Disney movie with the genie, just some street rat trying to survive, only I don't have a magic blue man or a monkey to keep from being a bad person. I don't have no little me on my shoulder to telling me what to do. Good OR bad. It's just me, but if telling you how I ended up this way keeps me from community service, then sure. I'll let the judge know how fucked up it is out there."

"It starts out like this. I was born on Halloween, my first foster parent said that's why I was so crazy. Born on the devil's day. Well, I was born and I was left. The nurses say that my momma just up and left. Walked away without a second glance to see if her bouncing baby brat was gonna be okay. I was but in with orphans, then to various foster homes and parents. Half way houses and homeless shelters. But what's the point? Most foster parents are just as bad as the scum living outside in the streets. Older men who like to touch little girls. Touch them in places that no daddy is supposed to touch you. Foster mom's drink and beat you. They only do fostering for the money the government gives them. Or for their own sick raping pleasure. I won't go into too much detail about the early days. Let's just say I was in both kind of places. Bad places. So I left.

And then I became a street child.

I went to school. I like learning and all. Even if math is hard for me. Public schools don't care to much where you live as long as you come to school and learn. I never fought in elementary or middle school. I kept street business on the street, school business in school. And if a teacher ever needed to see a parent I just got Momma K to fill in for me. Momma K is a nice old black lady that keeps us wild children in check in the slums. Everybody loves her, keeps her safe from gang-bangers because she'll feed us every once in awhile or let us stay inside and sleep if it's raining like hell outside. Otherwise she's just a nice old grandma who'll do a favor for a kid if that kid will weed her garden a little.

I made friends, kids who ran away from foster homes or their real homes to escape the monsters there. Maybe some day the law will take a look at homes like that. Homes where real horrors lay, find the root of the problem instead of cuffing every kid that gets in a tiff in street. But yeah, I found girls and boys that I ran with. Friends that looked out for each other in the big spooky adult world. Like Dani and Tyron. I swear they were my birth siblings we were so much alike. I met them when we were all little kids, huddling in Momma K's house to stay warm. We lived like a pack, us three tearing up with streets and getting in trouble. But all good things come to an end.

Dani joined a gang and ended up having to go to some prison school. After that I don't know. I have no idea where she is right now. She killed someone though, that's why they sent her away. But after that Tyron was never the same. He loved Dani. His little Dani Vega, but she never had eyes for him. After she was sent away I found him, two weeks later with a rope around his neck.

They were both just sixteen.

Friends are hard to keep in hell.

But during most that time we slept outside, bathed in backyard pools and lived like animals. We got food from shelters or I stole what we needed to buy stuff. We all got in fights. Oh did the three us fight. And got real friendly with the cops. They knew us by name. Still do.

I never got involved with a gang though. Not like Dani did. Just cause I'm a street kid don't mean I'm stupid. I've been stabbed, done drugs, slept around, and been dead drunk but never been so stupid as to up and join a gang. I told her not to do it. But who listens to me right?

I roved the ghetto, getting in brawls with older and supposedly tougher kids. I either lost or I won and regardless I got hurt bad. But fuck that, I had fun. We had fun.

Life is hard out there. Harder then any silver spooned college shit's life. I've done horrible things. And had bad things done to me. But I lived through it. And I will continue to do so. 'Cept I have a job now. I work at a pet store, cleaning shit out of cages and sweeping. But it gets me money to pay rent. I still get in fights, like the one that got me here in the first place. Fucking little rich shit gets fucked up and look at all the adults that come to play because of it. Like a bunch of bitches in heat, panting for a penny from the mayor's son. Fuck that. I fight to live. While that asshole just shits gold. I fucking FIGHT my whole life just to get a minimum wage job....and....well now I'm rambling. So there is Ms. College, there's my life. One shit storm after another.


Living Status Information

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Benny lives in a rundown studio apartment near the school.
Roommates: N/A

Cases Against the Students:
0
Cases Against the Teachers:
0
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Placement	Item(s)
Head
Hat/Bandana	N/A
Earrings	N/A
Glasses	N/A
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Torso
Shirt	N/A
Jacket/Coat	N/A
Neck	N/A
	[/td
Arms
Arm	N/A
Wrist	N/A
Gloves	N/A
Ring	N/A
	[/td
Legs
Pants	N/A
Shin	N/A
Shoes	N/A
Belt	N/A
	[/td
Misc
1	N/A
2	N/A

Stats

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30
Dexterity:
20
Constitution:
15
Intelligence:
15
Wisdom:
5
Charisma:
5

The Bio Approval Code Phrase:
"Must be made of something weak...like Raditz."
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[Ms. Vellequette]

Approved. Have fun and Welcome!