Fifth

Name: "Fifth" (childhood nickname)

Position: Entry-level analyst for Soap for Corpses Products.

Skills

  • Awesome by Analysis 6
  • Hack the Planet 5
  • Foundation Employee 2

Pawns

None.

Inventory

SCPs:

None

Weapons:

None.

Equipment:

Ruggedized Laptop Computer
TI-89 Graphing Calculator

Perks

Hooks

Oh frak we're all gonna die! (With Fifth's first exposure to Foundation life, he has overcome the shock of the sights behind the veil. He's still got a long way to go. When in a life threatening situation, he becomes stressed and has access to only half of his dice (rounded down) when making skill rolls. When in a life threatening situation more horrifying than the event described in Entry 1, he becomes panicked and will be unable to make skill rolls. The conditions stressed and panicked can be treated with relevant skills, perks, character actions, or plot-relevant situations.)

Easy to Read (Fifth doesn't hide his thoughts well. Anyone can tell what he's thinking, or what mood he's in. He's also more susceptible to mental assaults than most others.)

Ooh, Shiny! (Fifth is easily distracted.)

Blind Without Em (Fifth needs -9.00 diopter glasses to see clearly.)

Clumsy (Fifth is accident prone.)

History

Most people know him as "Fifthman", "Fifth" for short. It's a childhood name that he's had for 18 years since the age of 5, and it's a play on his last name.

Fresh out of university with a B.S. in Math and a minor in Computer Science, Fifth took a local job at Soap from Corpses Products as a general analyst. He's particularly adept at crunching numbers, solving differential equations, making algorithms, and doing other mathematical tasks of the sort.

Fifthman's Diary, ██ █████, ████

This is the diary of █████ ██████, born █ ████, ████ in █████ ████████, ██. I am an analyst for Soap from Corpses Products, Inc., and my life has changed forever.

I was working with three other doctors. I watched a woman named 228 tear a man to shreds after a vat of piss exploded. I sat in a corner, covered in and smelling like piss, hiding myself in my hands, curled up in a ball as I waited for her to kill me. She didn't.

The only reason that I'm still alive is because a woman named Rights and a man named Crim came to save me. They did. But I was clumsy enough (stupid me) to trip over the only piece of I-beam keeping the vat together. When it came down, 228 exploded. She killed another three researchers with the remains of the vat, and she would have killed me if it weren't for Crim and my calculator.

I don't know how I got out of there alive, but I was in shock the rest of the day. I want to get out of here, but I can't.
[will continue]

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License