I was once (prepare to laugh) a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. Sadly, I turned twenty last year. People still keep trying to call me Donny.
I'm a fairly determined survivalist, and am almost unbeatable at running away. I can also attack if I really need to, though obviously my shell hampers me.
As far as weapons go, I typically have one mostly-invincible turtle shell, one deadly sword, and about fifteen miscellaneous pointy rocks and old grenades. I never use guns, because they've jammed and nearly gotten me killed. Three times. I like the accuracy of blowpipes, and would consider using one upon occasion. For some reason, I never can get my hands on a regular shield, but I've always dreamed of it.
When I was a young boy, my friend Claude and I lived an idyllic life of backbreaking labor in a remote farm. Life was good, if hard; we had dozens of friends, and family. I studied the three strange, ancient tomes that we had preserved: the Oxford English Dictionary, the Bible, and The Art of War. Well, the third wasn't a tome, but even with the dictionary, I still only understood half of it.
Then, one day, tragedy struck. A band of Grifters pillaged and burned our homes. Claude and I hid in a cave, and to my current knowledge we were the only survivors. Though... I still hope that a few others escaped - Basil Hare should have been too fast to be caught.
I accept everyone who doesn't try to hurt my friends; I suspect we'll live longer that way. I have a moderate distrust of the Legion, but Captain Francis Pancake seems honorable and good, so far. I dislike all Grifters, and occasionally come to blows, but again prefer survival over vengeance. I don't particularly mind Ghouls, at least on principle. Some of them have been allies of ours, and haven't betrayed us. I'd rather become a Ghoul than a Grifter.