GENERAL INFO

^NAME David Sterling Dunaway
^AGE November 10th, 1969 (25)
^GENDER Male
^HEIGHT 6'1 ^ft| 185 ^cm
VIEW Skeptic

CLASS

^{THE JOCK}
Muscles can only help so much with Dave’s lack of charm. From the army rat cut to the cowboy boots, it's fitting he sports the Jock title. The guy isn’t an idiot by all means, but his fists would save him before his wit.

^HEALTH 20 hp
^ABILITY Final Push
Grants the ability to do a bonus action each turn for one encounter. Can only be used once a day in game.
^{COMBAT SKILLS}

^{DISADVANTAGES}

PERSONALITY

^{HONEST +}
Being blunt and considerate is a challenge that isn't always possible. This doesn't come naturally for him, but he consciously tries his best.^{FAIR +}
Dave doesn't have a strict moral ground by all means. He thinks everything is situational. Even if he's bias he can put it aside if he thinks someone's being wronged. (But that's only if he's not emotional)^{AMBITIOUS +}
As the middle child in his family, being discredited is something he is use to. Aside from wanting approval, he wants to make something out of himself. Not follow a future someone set for him.^{INDEPENDENT =}
Can be too proud to ask for help so he'd rather do a trade or pay for it. He doesn't want to seem incompetent.^{SENSITIVE =}
Being sensitive is a double edged sword. He's an emotional guy and can be in tuned with other people's feelings. Which is great until his emotions overpowers the situation.^{NEUROTIC -}
Quick to anger and easily annoyed, he can be difficult to deal with. The dude's super critical about his work and tends to be paranoid about the worst case scenario.^{SHORT TEMPERED -}
Connecting to the comment above -
Unless provoked, he would redirect his anger from the person. He can get blinded by rage and make impulsive idiotic choices.

BIOGRAPHY

^TD;LR A southern ex-army rat with anger issues seeks validation from his father decides makes a wager with him. He has to beat the family's record on most sold burgers in an event. If he wins, he will be supported to do whatever he wants in life. If he loses, he shuts up and runs his family's business.Him and his sister have been traveling across the country, selling burgers at events. So far no luck in beating the record and the two are hoping Freak Fest is going to be it. Early Life
Robert and Cheryl hated each other.
Robert Dunaway was an army veteran from a conservative family who ran a cattle company and food truck business known as Bessie Moo’s Burgers. Cheryl, on the other hand, was a liberal hippie whose family owned a small grocery store that acted as a third-party supplier for the Dunaways—providing the breads, vegetables and condiments needed for a thriving burger business. Because of this connection, the two saw each other often, and just as often they would clash over their opposing political views. But with passion comes passion, and that hatred grew into love, with the two eventually getting married and starting a family with the birth of their first child—Robert Dunaway Jr [RJ].
Dave was born a few years later in the mild San Marcos winter of 1969, his brother's shadow looming over the long Texas horizon.RJ was the prized oldest son—the golden child—while Dave became the middle child with the adoption of Bea; the child of a family friend. And while Dave and Bea grew close over the years, the same could not be said for the brothers, with their father often pitting the two against each other, using RJ as an “example” for the young Dave as the brother who could do no wrong. Growing up, Dave would try to connect with his father by appealing to his interests—namely guns and military culture—but nothing he ever did was good enough.Because of this, Dave found himself taking after the women in his life—his mother, his sister; Hell, even his grandmother taught him how to shoot. However, when he was expected to take over his mother’s business—with him handling the grocery store and his brother taking the ranch and burger truck—he still felt stifled, wanting nothing more than to take command over his own life.Teenage Years
As Dave came into his highschool years, he started getting into arguments with his father over his future. He didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life, but he didn’t want to take over that damned store. So, like many teenagers, he threw himself into his video games, TV shows, comics; fictional stories that provided an escape from expectations of the real world. But even that had consequences, as his motivation dwindled and his grades plummeted, he found that he had only secured his fate.For a few years, Dave was stuck running the grocery store, only occasionally working the burger truck. While he was pretty good at working the food truck, he seldom got credit for its success, even when RJ—who had happily taken over as manager—raved about his brother’s talents to their father. The grocery store, on the other hand, was nothing short of a nightmare. With shifts that stretched as long and dry as the desert, Dave found himself a slave to ringing of the door chime and nonsensical whims of customers who him as little more than a body to scream at; a true capitalist punchbag.The frustrations compounded, and combined with the arguments with his father, Dave started growing bitter. But still, it was manageable. And as the days droned on, that bitter taste became familiar. The anger became monotonous. The resentment, predictable. But everything changed on October 30th, 1987.The Incident
A convict had broken out of the San Marcos prison; a local serial killer who had been targeting teenagers, especially highschool boys. That day, before the sun had set, RJ asked Dave if he could stay back and close the shop for him, as he wanted to go out on a date. While he was nervous about the convict, Dave agreed, provided that RJ took over his shift the following day.That night, after Dave had closed the store and locked the door, all of the lights went out. But before he could check the power box, he saw items falling off the grocery shelves and heard the distinct sound of footsteps over hard acrylic floors. He quickly hid behind the counter, grabbing the phone and getting tangled in its wires as he dialled 911. But the phone wasn’t working, and he was met only with crackling silence.Knowing that an intruder was in the building, he armed himself with his family’s shotgun—normally stowed away under the counter—and made a run for the entrance, only to find that the way had been blocked from the outside shopping carts that had been left in the carpark. Becoming more panicked, he then doubled back towards the back exit across the store with the gun in his hands, but found that the checkout counter had been pushed back to block the door. He considered breaking a window and turned to run back to the front of the store, only to be met with a tall figure dressed in a full black leotard and a shitty Halloween Mask.With nowhere else to run, he held up the shotgun with the barrel pointed at his pursuer with his finger on the trigger. But right as he was about to fire, the person held their hands up in surrender; their breathing short and shallow, and they begged him not to shoot as they tried to take off the Mask.
Dave tried to move the gun away, but with the safety off the gun fired, sending the bullet flying through the store—the ricochet damaging everything from the furniture to the products on the shelves—and sending the scrawny Dave flying back into a shelf from the recoil.
It was a miracle no one was hurt. After the chaos, the “intruder” was revealed to be three of Dave’s highschool classmates who had snuck in to pull a prank on RJ, using the anxiety around the escaped convict as revenge for bullying them. A noble enough cause, but all that came of it was a half-destroyed store and a trip to the hospital as Dave was crushed by a grocery shelf.While the rest of the family were sympathetic, Dave’s father was furious by the whole ordeal, blaming the damages on Dave’s “incompetence”—his worry misplaced as anger towards his son. Even after learning that the kids had been bullied, and the RJ had shirked his responsibilities for a date, his father claimed that none of the damage caused would have happened under RJ’s watch.For Dave, it was the last straw. And instead of arguing with his father, he offered him nothing but silence, only speaking again two weeks after the incident, when he told his family that he was signing up for the army.
And for once, his dad was supportive.

Army Years
Ever since he was a child, Dave had heard stories of the army from his father and grandfather. For years, he heard them boast about how structured and disciplined everything was; how it “built character”—how it made you a man. So, when he arrived on base, he assumed he would be in a better place—somewhere where he could command his life like he always wanted; somewhere where he wouldn’t feel stagnant. But reality is rarely that simple.Instead, he found himself working as a Small arms/Artillery repairer, and was met with the same impulsive demands and ill-informed requests that he would hear from customers at the grocery store. Instead of door chimes he was trained to respond to the coded screams of his superior officers, and instead of shelves of canned goods he was stacking boxes filled with 5.56mm Winchester rounds. And for the next six years, he learned that the army was no more competent than any other workplace. Sure, he had a few new stories to tell, but he had just as many stories from his years in retail.
And the same bitter taste came back.Eventually, Dave’s anger issues started catching up with him, and in his sixth year he had an argument with his commanding officer. Being his first offense, he was simply required to take anger management counseling once a month. But while it helped him deal with the anger on a moment-to-moment basis, it didn’t make those feelings go away, and soon enough he found himself lashing out at a recruit who failed to fill out his paperwork for a gun repair. Though he didn’t know it at the time, the recruit had been the child of a high-ranking General, and so Dave was given a final warning that if he had another outburst, he would be discharged from the military. Not wanting to go home and face the disapproval of his father, he stepped back in line—became just another punching bag.While his friends were worried about his sudden passivity, his good behavior over the next two months granted him his long-awaited E-4 promotion. And for a while, things were going well. But regardless of how long he’d been bottling-up his frustrations—be it 3 months or 25 years—it eventually all came to the surface when one day, in 1994, there was an incident in the armory and he finally snapped. And though he’s too embarrassed to admit what triggered him or how bad his rampage got—why the tank was involved or how he got into it—the only thing hurt at the end of the day was Uncle Sam’s wallet.With the massive amount of property damage caused by his outburst, Dave was dishonorably discharged and was sent to court. But thanks to his lawyer and a testimony from his anger management counsellor, Dave got off easy and didn’t have to face any jail time. However, as a result of his discharge, he couldn’t afford college, couldn’t qualify for loans or own guns, and there was a permanent black mark on his resume that would bar him from most jobs.Present
Dave went home with his tail between his legs and, fortunately, he had time to settle back in with his mother and sister while RJ and his dad were selling burgers in another state. However, when they got back, his father—who had once been so supportive of his decision—reprimanded him for his time in the army. After all of those years of talking it up, he claimed that “not everyone was built to be a hero”, going on about how Dave should have “stuck to the family business”. And while Dave had tried to find a better, more fulfilling life for himself, he was right back where he started; having to sit there and listen as his father boasted about RJ’s skills as a salesman—how he’d broken the family record for burger’s sold in one event. He was done with it.Dave argued with his dad, stating that he didn’t want to be a hero like in his comic books; that all he wanted was for him to shut up, and that going to the army was the fastest way to get away from him.
But of course, deep down, Dave still wanted his father’s approval. And so he offered him a wager; that he’d take the family truck and sell burgers at events, and if he could beat the RJ’s record by the end of the year, then his dad would stop berating him and finally let him live the life he wants. But if he lost, he’d take on the family business permanently. Not expecting to lose, his father agreed.While he was planning on going alone, Bea begged Dave to let her tag along—not only out of love for her brother, but having never been considered for the role, she genuinely wanted the family business for herself. With their goals aligned, Dave allowed her to travel with him, provided that she didn’t try to advertise or cook the burgers in fear of throwing the wager—she could man the register, help prep the food and organize the set up, but he had to cook and sell the burgers himself.
Since then, the two have been on the road—traveling from state to state, attending events, and selling burgers. In the past one and a half months since the wager, they haven’t beaten the record. But Freakfest may just be their last stop…

MINDSCAPE

The Bathroom
The bathroom smells of smoke, rich and heavy and moorish like an old-Texan BBQ; herbaceous and woody like tobacco, and yet metallic and sulphurous like gunpowder. Every lungfull tastes a little different—amalgamating into something rotten—as a cold light hums from the fluorescent bulbs above, breaking through the haze that makes the eyes burn.
In the sink there’s a pile of uncooked meat. It had been something once. Before it was minced. Before it was gathered in handfuls, beaten and bound in egg and breadcrumbs until it was just something resembling a patty; simple and rounded and uniform. But it twitches. As sweet, streaky meat juice runs down the edges of the porcelain sink and onto the cheap bathroom tiles, the meat shifts and shivers and spikes defiantly, as if it remembers being-
…something.
Looking up, a mirror should be on the wall. The edges are rusted and worn, but there’s no one in the reflection. Not a person. Not even a pile of meat. There’s just desert; long and vast and empty. The sun is high in the sky, making the shadows look small and feeble as the ground burns away anything that dare step upon it. Only a few cacti remain—bastions of green and red and purple dotting the horizon and clinging to what precious water they have left.The Store
Leaving the bathroom—abandoning the perpetually locked stalls and dried-up taps—there is a familiar grocery store. The lights are dim and footsteps echo across hard acrylic floors; the sound breaking through the silence and bouncing off the endless shelves and brightly-coloured promotional signs drilled into the low-hanging ceiling. 2-for-1 bottles of diet Dr Pepper! 56% off shotgun cartridges! Proudly sourced from Dunaway ranch!
Wandering the isles, there are real boxes of ammunition next to cheap toy guns and cowboy boots. Another set of shelves sells rows and rows of novelty military-grade rations next to stacks of “fresh” plastic produce. A magazine rack holds nothing but comic books—costumed heroes with furrowed brows flexing on glossy 50lb covers—while a table is stacked with a pyramid made of snow globes; all broken and all on sale with a distinctive yellow price tag. Turning a corner brings a display from last Halloween; a wall full of cheap rubber masks and pumpkin-shaped buckets. For only 3.99 you too can be The Mask!
There’s no exit. No entrance. Not even a register. But wandering the maze brings forth an unmistakable anxiety; the knotted, sinking feeling that you’re being watched—hunted by a minotaur stalking the labyrinth, or a customer coming in minutes before closing.The Fishbowl
In a corner of the maze there is a table with a goldfish bowl. The glass is covered in a thin oily scum, and small insects skim the surface of the water, occasionally getting lost in the wiry tumbleweed sticking out of the sand resting on the bottom of the dome. Floating in the water is a small blue car—license plate E04 556. It really should have sunk to the bottom, but it’s just floating there like a dead fish.
Just beyond the fishbowl is a blank wall with a broken exit sign—the green light flickering through the windshield of the tiny car like headlights on an open road.
Final sale! Everything must go…