Survival of the Fittest: A Zombie Apocalypse Game (Still Accepting)

Started by Kokaine, March 25, 2014, 02:07:21 PM

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Assassini


Assassini

Full Name: Arthur Jäger
Nicknames/Aliases: Art
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Marital Status: Single

Former Occupation/Position: Mechanical Engineering PhD Student
Strengths:

  • Mechanical Knowledge: Before the apocalypse, Arthur had never so much as touched a car engine and had only fiddled around with wiring. However, he has a background knowledge of the inner workings of both that made learning the actual workings of them fairly straight-forward. After six months of surviving now he has become more than capable of actually pulling apart (and putting back together) various bits and pieces of mechanical systems (this includes some knowledge of the few weapons he has used as well, so he could theoretically learn how to care-for more advanced guns if given the opportunity).
  • Athletic: Before the apocalypse Arthur had been in a University and had been single. This meant constantly trying to attract female attention, so he made sure to look after himself. Naturally, after 6 months without actually going to the gym he has lost some of the weight and size he was previously, and instead has become far leaner.
  • Basic survival knowledge: Arthur survived the first few months of the apocalypse with a group of friends, two of whom had been hunting in the past and so he has been taught the rudimentary basics of surviving in the wilds, hunting and looking after oneself. This includes the ability to shoot to a reasonable degree.
  • Reflexes: Arthur was a big video gamer before the outbreak. While his knowledge of FPSes didn't really help much with his shooting, they have made him more aware of what happens around him than he might have been otherwise.

Weaknesses :

  • Clumsy: Arthur is tall but not particularly graceful. When focusing he can be quiet enough to hunt, but his height does make moving quietly a lot harder and a lot slower for him than it would someone smaller and lighter.
  • Hand-to-hand scrub: Arthur is tall, strong, and athletic. All the advantages one would normally need for being a fighter. However, beyond the casual rough-and-tumble with siblings and friends Arthur has absolutely no experience with martial arts or boxing or anything similar. While this is obviously no real disadvantage against the zombies, it puts him at a marked one against other humans.
  • Reclusive: After the first group of friends he had been with were brutally murdered by bandits and the survivors separated, Arthur has had a hard time trusting new and strange people. This same trait makes him unpredictable when being given commands and even less so if he was forced to give them.
  • "Cruel": Arthur does not care about the zombies in the slightest. Viewing them through the eyes of scientist he has no problem killing each and every one of them. Of course this viewpoint is aided by the fact that he has never been forced to witness anyone close to him turn. He has, on two separate occasions in his past, without hesitation killed two people who had been bitten and were in the process of turning. He has also been put into situations at least once where he had to kill another human who was not going to turn. While perhaps this provides him a significant survival advantage, it naturally makes others around him uncomfortable and so they have as much trouble trusting him as he does them.
  • Glasses: a definite disadvantage in a world where perfect eyesight is all-too often necessary.

Special Gear :

  • Mosin-Nagant M28-30: unarguably the single most valuable piece of equipment he owns. Coupled with a scope.
  • Ammunition: 22 spare round (7.62mm), 5 in gun, loaded by stripper clip.
  • Clothes with change: includes a weathered leather jacket, aviator style and sturdy boots.
  • Map: a detailed map of California
  • Crowbar: held in a holster attached to his thigh, and his usual weapon of choice when he can afford to save ammunition or needs to be quiet.
  • Toolbelt: he jokes that it is his "Batman Utility Belt" but in truth it is limited to a few very basic tools and useful sundries including a canteen, compass and penknife.
  • Glasses: standard black frame.
  • Rucksack: nothing special, a remnant of his education days. Contains a few bits and pieces of food.


Height: 6' 2''
Weight/Body type: Lean and tough. It might be clear that he used to be more built before a lack of sustenance led to him losing some size.
Hair: Blonde and cropped short
Skin: Pale
Eyes: Dark grey
Distinguishing Features: His glasses and leather jacket would make him stand out from a crowd. If he removed the jacket one would see part of a dragon tattoo on his left shoulder.


Personality: Arthur would probably be considered abrasive and difficult to get along with. A combination of not talking to people unless it's necessary combined with his known distrust for others makes others have little inclination to get to know him too well. As well as this, the fact that he has shot and killed humans, both those who were about to turn and those who were a danger to him and his friends, makes others tend to be uncomfortable around him. Another issue Arthur has come across before is his difficult adapting to a "chain of command". If he is a part of a group he will take commands rather than lead, but does not approve of any single person being in control and will attempt to dispute anything other than a democracy. Naturally he struggles inwardly with having killed humans before, but outwardly he shows no signs of remorse about it and this makes him come across as cold and maybe even dangerous. For all of that, Arthur used to be a care-free, genuine and smiley guy, and occasionally signs of that older personality still poke through this new and rougher shell.
He very rarely get's a chance to play around with his passions from his older life: science, machines and computers, and this also puts him a perpetually frustrated sense of mind and so he will take any chance he can to toy around with something mechanical or electric. Just for old times sake. As well as this, his scientific and analytical mind mean that he is a firm believer in a cure. That said, whilst he believes in the idea of a cure (every disease has it's weak spots he would argue), he keeps silent on the idea of creating one. He hasn't the knowledge, equipment or ability to do so and he strongly fears that everyone else who DID is either dead or hiding.
Despite preferring to keep himself to himself, Arthur is also a pragmatist and logical, and as such he believes strongly in "safety in numbers". He has not yet found another group with which he is willing to stay, but if he were to find one he would cling on for dear life, forcing himself to deal with others in order to stay alive. It just makes sense.

Likes: Machines (and as a subset: computers and science), food, a cold beer, chocolate, analytical and logical people.
Dislikes: Dirt, Blood, People driven by emotion or "the heart" over the mind, Those who attempt to Command or Control, Religion: "Where is your god now?"
Fears: Arthur has an intense fear of being turned. It is not the actual zombies which scare him so much as the idea of becoming one of them. He would rather kill himself than live with a bite. And spiders. Because fuck spiders...

History: Arthur comes from a mixed European background. While both of his parents were English, and classified themselves as such, his grandparents on one side were German who had moved to England for work. His family all tended towards the sciences and as such were middle-class, intelligent and curious people. He had a fairly broad extended family, most of whom lived in Europe. Arthur himself was a single child who adored his parents and England, but also wanted to fully experience life and everything it had to offer. So, when he was offered a PhD at CalTech he had been absolutely overjoyed (and naturally his parents had been more than pleased to let their son go to California, especially to such a prestigious University. At CalTech he had enjoyed both his studies towards his PhD, playing sports and the general independence that came with living away from home. He had enjoyed the party lifestyle and the warm sun of California which had quickly turned him from the pale-skinned Vampire from England to have a little more colour. He played video games, tried hooking up with girls and in general did everything that life allowed him.

When the apocalypse hit Arthur had been in his flat playing games, he wasn't paying attention to the outside world. As such he was one of those who became aware of the zombies, the undead (a lifetime of video games had taught him to call them that), before actually seeing one. This meant that he was lucky enough to avoid being accidentally bitten in the early stages of the outbreak when people still did not really know what was happening. As more and more news reports flooded in, things began to look increasingly grim. Arthur lived with two flat-mates, Dale and Gabriel, both American and both who agreed with him that they had to get out of the city. Again luck played a major role in their escape, they made their way down a fire-escape and through back-alleys and managed to avoid the attention of most of the undead. By going on foot they also avoided most of the traffic which built up on the roads. They had no real idea where they were heading except "away". By this stage Arthur had managed to grab some of the useful bits and pieces which he now always carries, and the others were also reasonably smart, intelligent people. However, none of them knew how to fight or shoot or survive in the wild. Their final stroke of luck came when they had to double back towards the campus of Pasadena before getting out of the city, where they bumped into one of Gabriel's cousins. Gabriel was Hispanic and came from a family who were doing their utmost to appear American, this included his Uncle and Cousins who had gone native in the extreme. Bumping into said Uncle and Cousins, along with a few other survivors was the biggest stroke of luck the guys had, because it was these three who taught them how to survive.

They kept up-to-date with occurrences using Dale's hand-held radio, but slowly the broadcasts slowed down and the information stopped coming. By this stage Arthur was already deep in grief, they had witnessed a few of the others in their small group being killed by the zombies and they were becoming more and more aware of the hordes which existed. The information that the air-ports had closed was the final straw for Arthur. His family was a whole continent away, he simply had to trust that the people abroad were having a better time than in the densely packed Los Angeles. He never really hit true grief though and always carries a hope that if he survived, his family has too. The first few months were reasonably easy as they survived off the food the cousins and the Uncle had packed, plus they were a large group, joined by a further 4 individuals, which meant that scavenging and hunting was fairly straight-forward. They made their way North slowly at first, with no real certain goal in mind. Everyone wanted to find their families, but nobody wanted to risk going off alone to do that. Yet. Everything was straight-forward, and while it may not have been a happy existence, it wasn't the worst one. A raid into a hunting supplies shop provided Arthur with his treasured M28, a gun which would keep him alive on more than one occasion. That was until the third month when their camp was raided as they slept.

They had taken in a survivor who had appeared more than a little unhinged, it had been a tight vote but it was the only right choice at the time. That same man had lit a flare and brought a far larger group of men down upon their little camp. The chaos was brief as a group of masked men pillaged and plundered, hollering and shooting anything that moved. More animal than man. Arthur crawled and shuffled his way to the edge of where the fires consumed their tents. He had no idea where Dale had disappeared to and he had witnessed Gabriel and one of the Cousins both being beaten bloody before being shot. As he limped to safety he was grabbed by one of the raiders and that was when he killed his first man, spinning around and falling upon his gun which went off and shot the man in the stomach. He spent the next week trying to find the others he had seen escaping before finally giving up and deciding that he would never again trust another man. He spent the next month as well carefully avoiding the same group of raiders, they had apparently taken a specific dislike for him when they discovered that one of their friends was dead. This was the time where Arthur truly honed his survival skills to the razor sharp point they are at now, learning how to be careful and overcome his own disadvantages.

During the next months he killed more than once, at one point saving a small family group from what appeared to be an ex-convict with a shotgun. The rifle round took the man's head clean off. Arthur gave the shotgun and it's few shells to the family but refused their offer to join them as they drove North. A few other times he met other survivors, leading to the incidents where he was forced to kill people who had been bitten and other bandits. He took on a grave hatred and dislike of anyone who took from other humans, punishing them as severely as he felt they deserved. He spent another month with another group before leaving it, on good terms for once, because they wished to head to a supposed "Safe Zone" which he did not believe existed. He drove, walked and hiked his way across country until finally he is now arriving near the area where the game begins.

Sexuality: Straight
Sexual On's and Offs: My own O/Os cover it.

Player: Assassini

Assassini


ABV0331

Always up for a fight.
Always down for a drink.
Always there for a toke.
Always here for a smoke.

Assassini


GnothiSeauton

Submitted for Approval
Full Name:  Catherine Grant
Nicknames / Aliases:  'Cate', 'Cat', 'Catey', 'General Grant' (Nickname from some colleagues and family for her experience in intense combat situations).
Age:  29 years old
Sex:  Female
Marital Status:  Single

Former Occupation/Position:  Photojournalist
Strengths:

  • Physically Fit:  Stays and tries to remain in top physical strength and endurance before the outbreak.  Used to running, and keeping in shape.
  • Mentally Strong in Intense Situations:  Experience from her career.  No stranger to being shot at, able to remain calm in most intense situations
  • Familiarity with Military Tactics and Language:  Experience from her career.  Having been imbedded with combat units overseas in combat, Catherine has been able to pick up on some military information and knowledge.
  • No Stranger to Tough Situations:  Again, experience from her career.  She's been in combat situations, imbedded with troops, away from shelter for most nights.  She's been in cities in full revolution mode, often without basic necessities such as water, electricity, etc.
Weaknesses:

  • Propensity to Be Independent:  Naturally independent.  Does not necessarily enjoy following the directions of others.
  • Reckless:  A habit she picked up from her career.  Having been around armed combat and struggle so much, she tends to naturally gravitate to that as a source of comfort.
  • Post Traumatic Stress Disorder:  Although mentally strong in most intense situations, there are times when it becomes too much for her.  When she has time to think, when she has time to let her troubles sink in, it can be difficult to deal with at times.
  • Trouble Fitting In and Connecting with Others:  A condition and unintended consequence of her job.  It has become increasingly difficult for her to fit in with 'normal' people.  Having seen what she has seen, having experienced what she had been through, it is tough for her to identify and connect with people who are strangers to it.
  • Extremely Limited Knowledge of the Areas:  An East Coast girl, whose only venture out to the West Coast had been to military bases as well as very limited business trips to Los Angeles, Catherine doesn't have a lot of knowledge when it comes to major areas and rural parts of California.
Special Gear:  (1) Nikon D4 Camera, (1) Swiss Army Pocket Knife, (1) Beretta 9mm, with (27) Rounds of Ammunition, (3) Snickers Candy Bars, (2) Cans of Coca-Cola, (1) Crow-Bar), Carried around in an ALICE Pack

Height:  Five foot ten inches
Weight / Body type:  Athletic
Hair:  Dark Brown
Skin:  White
Eyes:  Green
Distinguishing Features:  Old bullet wound in arm, various cuts and scars.

Personality:  A Battle-Hardened Civilian would be the best way to describe Catherine.  Friendly and sociable to a point among others, there is an underlying discomfort when it comes to having to deal and be around people who have lived a seemingly normal life.  She is a tough woman, used to dealing with the realities of combat without ever really having fired a gun in her life.  From the frontlines of a combat zone, to the medical tents, from among the guerilla combat soldiers in revolution-torn streets, to the dark and dank basements filled with the screaming wounded in a make-shift hospital.  Her experiences, however toughening mentally and physically they may have been, were not without their defects.  PTSD is something she struggles with on occasion.  Normally it is something she has grown accustomed to, something she has been able to get a handle on in life, but there are times, more than a few times, when it is too much to hold in and push off into the back of her mind.

Likes:  Chocolate.  Adrenaline.  Intense situations.  Independence.  American Football.
Dislikes:  Too many limits or restrictions.  Being held back.  Being without meat and protein.
Fears:  Abandoned.  Death.  Clowns.

History:  Life had begun somewhat simply enough in a normal upbringing in a Philadelphia suburb.  The youngest of three, Catherine did alright in school.  She failed a few classes here and there.  She aced a few as well.  Schooling though just wasn't her thing.  Her true passion in life came from working with cameras.  At first it was a hobby for her, just something she did to pass the time.  It wasn't until her senior year of high school that she first began to realize she had talent.

Almost every one of her classmates loved her work.  Constantly her teacher praised her art.  So much so, in fact, that Catherine did not know her teacher had entered her into a photography contest until it was announced she won.

Her work was good enough to earn a few offers straight out of high school.  Here and there for a time did she do the odd photography job.  Weddings.  Portraits.  Business photos.  Real Estate.  It went on and on for some time until one day her work caught the eye of the editor of one of the largest city newspapers.  From there her career skyrocketed.  The natural talent she held helped push her up the ladder in the newspaper, becoming the go-to person until she had been whisked away by New York Times.

In her work, she had been taken all over the world.  Combat situations in the Middle East.  Terrorist bombings.  Democratic revolutions.  Presidential visits.  In more than a few occasions did she get close to being nominated for her work, close to becoming an award winning photographer. 

Chosen to cover the outbreaks and infections, Catherine was sent out west with the rush of photographers and journalists, trying to cover and spread the images of the infection.  For some time she was imbedded with the military, once again on the front lines, until disaster struck, and she was forced to go it on her own as the infection continued to spread uncontrollably around the world.

Sexuality:  Straight
Sexual On's and Offs:  Enjoys rough sex.  Not exactly into the sentimental, slow and gentle variety.

Player:  GnothiSeauton
If I can't have you, my love...  I'll destroy you
~World Building Workshop ~ Current Ideas and Requests  ~
~ Preferences ~ Status  ~ Nightmares and Inspirations~
~Gnothi's Stories Without Homes~
A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies... The man who never reads lives only one.

Seeking New Stories

Kokaine

Quote from: ManofDawnLight on April 27, 2014, 02:03:53 PM
Mad as in "let's create an electric fence that lies on the ground that we can turn on and off.  So when the zombies get close and then freeze due to electricity going through them, we can play target practice with paintball guns until we get bored."  The eclectic kind of mad.  Not the "let's say stupid stuff all the time and shoot other players because that's what I do" mad.

LOL, go for it!
Current Craving/Looking For: Romance, Adventure, Action, Humor, and Erotica. (F/Any)

Current Post Rate: Moderate

Current Posts Owed: 1/8

My O/Os

Outlaw Fallen

Posting my interest because I love the survival horror genre in general and this game looks absolutely awesome. However, seeing as military types have been banned, I would like to forgo actually joining until they are allowed again (if they ever are).

I'm prior-military and a current police officer and would write from my own perspectives in such a situation as this and just can't justify lobbing that part of me off. It may sound narrow-minded or whatever and the soldier type is terribly overplayed in these games... but that's just how I feel.
"I fought the decisions that called and lost
My mark has the relevant piece in this
I will come reformed
In short, for the murder of those I court
I bless the hour that holds your fall
I will kill you all" - Coheed & Cambria
A/A's UPDATED! (6/6/19) | Desires | Outlaw-bait

"Doesn't love always begin that way; with the illusion more real than the woman?" - Jean-Luc Picard

PhantomPistoleer

#308
      I am a sucker for a zombie story.  :<

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Full Name :  Wesley Andrews
Nicknames / Aliases :  Wes
Age :  22
Sex :  Male
Marital Status :  Single

Former Occupation/Position :  College Student (Electrical Engineering)/ Pawn Store Employee (Andrews & Sons Pawn)
Strengths :


  • Pawnbroker:  Wesley has a working knowledge of how many items function, and is resourceful at jury-rigging temporary repairs.  He understands tools, electronics, automobiles, small engines, guns and jewelry, and is capable at determining an item's monetary value.  His knowledge is limited, however, in an item's application.  For example, while Wesley is good at cleaning and maintaining an antique pistol, he is a poor shot.
  • Warehouse Management:  Wesley is an incredibly efficient warehouse manager.
  • Electrical Engineer:  Wesley understands electrical circuits, and their numerous applications specifically in lighting, heating and ventilation systems.
  • Negotiator:  Wesley is able to deal with people from all walks of life, and is able to negotiate terms in a manner that is inoffensive but advantageous to himself.
  • Cyclist:  Wesley is an avid cyclist, and regularly pedals 15 miles or more a day.  This has conveniently made him endurant to physical exertion, and, as his father used to call it, "hillbilly strong."
Weaknesses :

  • Anti-Gun:  Despite being a Southern Boy, Wesley has always had an aversion to firearms.  He never learned to shoot a gun.  He never learned to hunt.
  • Anti-Violence:  Wesley has a hard time adapting to the new world, and is squeamish when he has to cause bodily harm to the living... or dead.  Furthermore, he is something of a pacifist, and never enjoyed participating or spectating combat-oriented sports.  He does not know how to fight.
  • Southern, but not Southern:  Despite being raised in a household of good ole' boys, Wesley doesn't like a lot of Southern things.  In the zombie apocalypse, Wesley often finds himself wishing that he had learned to drive a car, shoot a gun, hunt down a deer or learn how to "skin him sum' grub."

Special Gear :


  • 2015 Cannondale TRIGGER 27.5 Carbon 2 Mountain Bike, with on-board water bottle, pump and bike kit (and ringer!)
  • Tool Kit consisting of Fluke Electrical Tester, Channellock Set of 9 Pliers, Precision Set of Screwdrivers, Electrical Tape; weighs approximately 10 lbs.
  • Stanley 20 oz. Steel Hammer w/ Rip Claw
  • Provisions:  8x Luna Bars, 2x Orange Gatorades
  • SwissGear Computer Backpack

Height : 5'11
Weight / Body type : 160 lbs. / Athletic
Hair :  Black
Skin :  White
Eyes :  Brown
Distinguishing Features : N/A

Personality :  It'd be fair to say that Wesley has a disjunctive personality.  He is adventurous, but conservative; serious, but easy going.  He is a fair-minded, socially engaged young man with a keen intellect.  In his previous life, he was competitive in his schooling, and never lost his focus despite his very reckless attitude towards relationships.

Likes :  Girls, Science, Math, Electricity, Thrift Shops, Flea Markets, Casual Video Games, Electronica, Obscure SNL Skits
Dislikes :  Rednecks, Ex-Girlfriends, Guns, Violence, Drugs and Drug Culture, Local Police
Fears :  Illegal Detention and Harassment by Local Police, Closing the Pawn Shop at Night, Yokels with Guns

History :  "You know, you work your entire life buildin' something.  Me, I was fixin' to be an engineer.  An electrical engineer.  My daddy once brought home this little gimmick from work, a circuit board.  They used to sell em' at Radio Shack for forty bucks or so, but someone pawned one for five bucks two months back and he defaulted on it.  Instead of sellin' it, my old man thought that I might like it. 

He sure was good at reckonin' the character of a person, my old man was.  I sure miss him.

Anyways, I really liked that circuit board.  I musta' spent hours in the ole' den workin' out different junctions.  Soon enough, I got to makin' little experiments with copper wire so's you could build yourself a little radio.  Started playin' with batteries an' magnets.  Mama started gettin' fed up with my experimenting.  I started gettin' into her kitchen, an' she sure as hell -- excuse my language -- didn't want me fryin' her appliances.  Nearly electrocuted myself shovin' a knife into the toaster.  Mama had enough, so she kicked me out and off I went to make trouble for myself at my pa's store.

Now, he ran one of 'em pawn stores.  His daddy gave it to him, an' he was going to hand it down to one of his sons.  Store paid his wages, that's for sure.  He nearly made eight hundred thousand every quarter just on melting gold alone.  Anyways, I roll around, a ten year old kid, and my daddy puts me in the back fixin' VCRs and old gaming systems.  He says that they're already broken, so I shouldn't feel bad if I couldn't fix em'.  Well, I didn't fix squat that first day.  But I loved openin' them cases up, an' fiddling with the innards of them machines.  I get teary-eyed thinkin' of how beautiful the board on an old Dreamcast looked.  That was a thing of beauty, an' that is no lie.

So, I start botherin' at my pa's shop after school and on weekends.  We're the only pawn shop in town that's open on Sundays.  Instead of spendin' a couple of hours there, I'm spending the entire day.  Instead of workin' on just the old junk electronics, tryin' to resuscitate faulty junk my older brother Mike invested money in, I'm cleanin' jewelry.  Or I'm sweepin' the floor.  Or I'm gettin' an item from the shelf because my pa's a little short-staffed.  But I'm always workin' on something.  And sure enough, I get better at fixin' junk.  Soon enough, there ain't nothin' that comes my way that I can't fix.  My pa laughed when I told him that you needed an hair dryer to fix the cracked screen on an iPod.

Soon enough, I got to earnin' a salary workin' 20 hours a week as a technician.  My daddy moved me around the store, so that I wouldn't get bored.  We tried not to buy junk electronics all of the time, so sometimes there wasn't much for me to do, especially since I got after it right quick.  So I learned how to loan.  I learned how to buy.  I learned how to sell.  I learned how to run inventories, an' how to maintain the warehouse.  It was fun, but I gotta say that the biggest perks is seein' what walks through the door.

She was a beauty, and it was love at first sight.  Now, sure, it's just a bicycle.  I give you that much.  But this bad girl is made out of carbon fiber.  It's as light as a feather and nearly impact proof.  Dudes jump off of cliffs with these bitches -- excuse my language -- and the bike comes out of it way better than them dudes.  Now, the guy only wanted a loan for $300 for it.  The bike's worth about six grand!  So, for two months, I'm waitin' around for the police to show up with a complaint about a stolen bike, but nobody ever showed up.  I tried to call the guy to get him to come pick his bike up, but nobody ever picked up.  Man, I wanted this bike.

So I told my daddy, 'Hey, I wanna buy this bike.  How much will you sell it to me for?'

An' he goes, 'how much we got in it?'

I says, 'just three hundred.'

You know what he says?  He tells me that if I want it, I gotta pay $900 for it!  Doggone it, I was mad.  But sure enough, I worked for it and it was worth it.  My pa was always teachin' me lessons like that.  He ain' never played catch with me or took me to a park.  But doggone it if he didn' always have a funny way to show me he cared 'bout my upbringing.

So, I feel like a lot of what I learned in the backroom of that pawnshop translated well towards my education in electrical engineerin'.  See, it was like workin' with things that you understood, but didn't have a name for.  Like, whenever I came home from work, I rode up under this tree that blossomed these orange little fruits that I ain' never knew the name of.  I knew what they tasted like, and knew that I liked them.  But nobody knew what the heck them sonovabitches were called.  Same thing wit' the mathematical mumbo jumbo behind what I was doin' with my soldering gun.  I got it on two levels.  College classes on the hard sciences part were easy for me, but I really struggled with the liberal arts stuff.  Some of it was all right.  I really liked readin' Hemingway, but I mostly flirted with girls durin' those class periods.

I ain't somebody that kisses and tells.  Can't say it's for gentlemanly reasons, but it's cause I've done quite a bit of it an' I can't get down a cohesive timeline that doesn't put me in bed with girl A when I was in a relationship with girl B.  But, college sure is fun.  I liked the parties.  Shame it all had to end the way it did.

They're called lychees, by the way.  The fruits that nobody knew the name of.  Some Korean lady went ape shit for 'em one day, an' she told me that they're from her country.

Sexuality :  Heterosexual
Sexual On's and Offs :  Enjoys casual sex with random women and group settings;  since the death of his girlfriend, he isn't into romantic trysts.

Player : Phantom Pistoleer
[/list][/list]
Always seeking 5E games.
O/O

ManofDawnLight

Hopefully I'm posting this correctly.


Full Name:  [Dr. Frederick Anser]
Nicknames / Aliases : Doctor Shocks
Age :[54]
Sex :[male]
Marital Status :[single]

Former Occupation/Position :[Military Electrical Engineer-R&D]
Strengths :[Calculator brain; vast knowledge of physics and chemistry]
Weaknesses :[a sort of dark, twisted sense of humor; anger when his inventions fail]
Special Gear :[small, electric appliance tools; a small pistol (six bullets total, no refills); a laser pointer]

Height :[5'10]
Weight / Body type :[medium with a bit of aged handlebars]
Hair :[grey/white]
Skin :[Caucasian]
Eyes :[A green color]
Distinguishing Features :[his Einsteinesque hair; high-pitched giggle when happy ]

Personality :[A real life mad scientist, however most scientist will tell you that the so-called "mad scientist" is actually an engineer; he's almost impossibly optimistic in most situations, even hopeless ones.  However, his temper flies off the handle when physics and engineering fail him.  He loves getting as many volunteers in his projects as possible.  The teacher in him will never leave.]

Likes :[Electricity]
Dislikes :[Water]
Fears :[Being without some sort of technology]

History :[Dr. Frederick Anser, a genius in his own right, but his madness keeps him from ever being taken seriously.  In fact, he usually never is.  Before the plague, he was working with the government on experimental research on the electrical usage efficiency on modern appliances.  He was obviously overqualified.  He was on his way into the research of transmitting electrical charges outside of the confines of a wire, but his comrades used politics to push him out of the way.  It's a pity.  He probably would have helped.  Everyday he would go about his usual work, and then go home to spend the rest of his waking hours doing the research he should have been doing at work.  It was a sad life.  He knew it, but what was he supposed to do?  Develop good people skills?  One day as he was working on the engineering of the common cellphone, the red lights went off, the sirens blared, and all the doors to the military base closed off.  Unfortunately it did not do so fast enough, and everyone inside the base became prisoners with zombies skittering in the dark.  Dr. Anser, along with his co-workers and some officers, pulled their resources together and fought off the undead as long as they possibly could while simultaneously trying to find a way out.  Three months later, Dr.Anser escaped the base.  No one else did.  Now, in this desolate wasteland called America, he can make a difference.  People have to listen to him, no matter how distasteful they think discussions about the merits of Original Star Trek are.  He's also developed a bit of insanity and takes great joys in creating new ways to kill the undead.  Perhaps a way of passive revenge?  He's still a genius, no matter how mad he is, and he's a benefit to any group of survivors with access to electricity.]

Sexuality :[heterosexual]
Sexual On's and Offs :[Ons-Cosplay with Sci-fi themes (character-wise)  Personally, I'm open to a lot except for scat and anal.]

Player :[ManofDawnLight]
Short stories for now.  Light posts.

I am returning slowly.

ManofDawnLight

PhantomPistoleer, you posted your electrical engineer as I was writing my electrical engineer.  How funny.
Short stories for now.  Light posts.

I am returning slowly.

PhantomPistoleer

Quote from: ManofDawnLight on April 28, 2014, 12:37:13 AM
PhantomPistoleer, you posted your electrical engineer as I was writing my electrical engineer.  How funny.

Maybe if we're both accepted, the two can work together -- maybe your character could have been a guest speaker at the local university, or something.
Always seeking 5E games.
O/O

ManofDawnLight

Short stories for now.  Light posts.

I am returning slowly.

DarkAngel111

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
Full Name : Scott Campbell
Nicknames / Aliases : Scotty
Age : 26
Sex : Male   
Marital Status : Single   

Former Occupation/Position : Street Racer/ Student/ Low level Crimes.   
Strengths :
•   Driver: He can drive through hell and back he is good at evasive as well as fast driving
•   Street Smart: He is a good talker he can talk his way out of trouble.
•   Brawler: He is good with his arms and hands, a lot of upper body strength.
•   Good Shot: Although he had little experience before Z-day he usually hits his target at a modest distance.

Weaknesses :
•Not use to of living the way life is now.
•He has trouble leaving his car behind, and usually prefers to drive even if it means trouble.
•Selfish: He would rather save his own skin in times of greater perils.
•He is in a bit of denial of what is happening. Still Sees them as People.

Special Gear :
•   9MM Glock (30 rounds)
•   M1 grand with a bayonet. (45 rounds)
•   Winchester 70 Scoped (25 Magnum rounds, 20 large caliber, 50 standard rounds)
•   Beretta (one full magazine, 50 rounds)
•   An old tire Iron
•   Two large fuel containers in the trunk of his car. (1 empty 1 full)
•   A baseball Bat Broken but has a sharp edge.
•   10 000 Cash under the seat of his car.
•   Two Packs of beef jerky
•   5 cans of food (mystery)
•   One 2 liter water bottle (use to be a soft drink bottle)

Height: 5’11
Weight / Body type : Muscular.
Hair :Dirty Blonde   
Skin : White
Eyes : Blue
Distinguishing Features : Two Tattoos on Either Arms of Letter ‘A’

Personality : Scott is a hot headed adrenaline junkie who rarely thinks before acting. He is a very temperamental individual.

Likes: Fast Cars, Hot Girls, Anything he can bet on.
Dislikes: Lurkers(zombies), Any place with laws(He enjoys breaking or bending them)
Fears : Losing his car, Becoming one of them.

History: Scott was born and raised in very well to do family, his father had connections high up and usually he managed to pull strings for his son and his own business. Scott had been brought up with the concept that rules were meant to be broken, or bent to his will. His father or mother had never been around most of his life and thus he never really had anyone to mentor him.

Some bad company and drinks with the wrong type of people he was into the street racing scene. He had the cash to have top of the line ride with the best modifications made. He learned a bit about the modifications as well. Although he was never a gear head and had no knowledge about fixing things. He knew how to get a few body modifications done and usually worked on his own designs for his cars. Over the years he picked up a few more illegal hobbies and was holding up trucks or simply stores to get a bit of thrill, A few of the arrests were taken care of by his father who never  even seemed bothered by what he had done as long as it was fixable.

Not long after all hell broke loose. He had been in his house watching the news which was focusing on the illegal street racing scene. He knew that a crackdown had been imminent with the FBI and Local police in on the case. But the news was soon completely taken over by biting people or cannibals as he had called them. Most of the servants within his house had run to their houses in downtown to go to their families he had remained held up in his house for a good part of 4 months. It was after that time that he finally started getting attention of looters who were either trying to rob the Valuables in the houses around his.

He had used his father’s Old rifle which was a part of his small gun collection. Scott had used up a lot of the ammunition trying to scare the looters away from his house and finally decided to bail out He loaded the rear of his Mustang GT with some food, water and guns and ammunition, if anything, the living had been a bigger threat during the first 2 months than the dead. And the next 2 months the dead kept swarming around the house. He had loaded 3 10 gallon cans of fuel siphoning them from all the cars around the house and decided to drive out of the suburbs. He has been sleeping in his car and driving around town looking for some where safe to hold down at.

Sexuality : Straight   
Sexual On's and Offs : Same as Player (ask if you must)

Player : DarkAngel111



*throws my new character in.*

*wonders who would want to pair up*

Assassini

Updated character with ammo count. Also updated the "Clumsy" trait on the character sheet.

Kokaine

Quote from: Outlaw Fallen on April 28, 2014, 12:05:48 AM
Posting my interest because I love the survival horror genre in general and this game looks absolutely awesome. However, seeing as military types have been banned, I would like to forgo actually joining until they are allowed again (if they ever are).

I'm prior-military and a current police officer and would write from my own perspectives in such a situation as this and just can't justify lobbing that part of me off. It may sound narrow-minded or whatever and the soldier type is terribly overplayed in these games... but that's just how I feel.

I don't want the game overrun by soldiers and it was starting to look like thats what a lot of folks wanted to be when we first started. That said, we've just had one military character die so I would be willing to accept one or two more.


Also, will get to the newest submissions a little later today. Work is seriously trying my patience today so it may not be until this evening (PST).
Current Craving/Looking For: Romance, Adventure, Action, Humor, and Erotica. (F/Any)

Current Post Rate: Moderate

Current Posts Owed: 1/8

My O/Os

Kokaine

Quote from: PhantomPistoleer on April 28, 2014, 12:31:48 AM
      I am a sucker for a zombie story.  :<

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Full Name :  Wesley Andrews
Nicknames / Aliases :  Wes
Age :  22
Sex :  Male
Marital Status :  Single

Former Occupation/Position :  College Student (Electrical Engineering)/ Pawn Store Employee (Andrews & Sons Pawn)
Strengths :


  • Pawnbroker:  Wesley has a working knowledge of how many items function, and is resourceful at jury-rigging temporary repairs.  He understands tools, electronics, automobiles, small engines, guns and jewelry, and is capable at determining an item's monetary value.  His knowledge is limited, however, in an item's application.  For example, while Wesley is good at cleaning and maintaining an antique pistol, he is a poor shot.
  • Warehouse Management:  Wesley is an incredibly efficient warehouse manager.
  • Electrical Engineer:  Wesley understands electrical circuits, and their numerous applications specifically in lighting, heating and ventilation systems.
  • Negotiator:  Wesley is able to deal with people from all walks of life, and is able to negotiate terms in a manner that is inoffensive but advantageous to himself.
  • Cyclist:  Wesley is an avid cyclist, and regularly pedals 15 miles or more a day.  This has conveniently made him endurant to physical exertion, and, as his father used to call it, "hillbilly strong."
Weaknesses :

  • Anti-Gun:  Despite being a Southern Boy, Wesley has always had an aversion to firearms.  He never learned to shoot a gun.  He never learned to hunt.
  • Anti-Violence:  Wesley has a hard time adapting to the new world, and is squeamish when he has to cause bodily harm to the living... or dead.  Furthermore, he is something of a pacifist, and never enjoyed participating or spectating combat-oriented sports.  He does not know how to fight.
  • Southern, but not Southern:  Despite being raised in a household of good ole' boys, Wesley doesn't like a lot of Southern things.  In the zombie apocalypse, Wesley often finds himself wishing that he had learned to drive a car, shoot a gun, hunt down a deer or learn how to "skin him sum' grub."

Special Gear :


  • 2015 Cannondale TRIGGER 27.5 Carbon 2 Mountain Bike, with on-board water bottle, pump and bike kit (and ringer!)
  • Tool Kit consisting of Fluke Electrical Tester, Channellock Set of 9 Pliers, Precision Set of Screwdrivers, Electrical Tape; weighs approximately 10 lbs.
  • Stanley 20 oz. Steel Hammer w/ Rip Claw
  • Provisions:  8x Luna Bars, 2x Orange Gatorades
  • SwissGear Computer Backpack

Height : 5'11
Weight / Body type : 160 lbs. / Athletic
Hair :  Black
Skin :  White
Eyes :  Brown
Distinguishing Features : N/A

Personality :  It'd be fair to say that Wesley has a disjunctive personality.  He is adventurous, but conservative; serious, but easy going.  He is a fair-minded, socially engaged young man with a keen intellect.  In his previous life, he was competitive in his schooling, and never lost his focus despite his very reckless attitude towards relationships.

Likes :  Girls, Science, Math, Electricity, Thrift Shops, Flea Markets, Casual Video Games, Electronica, Obscure SNL Skits
Dislikes :  Rednecks, Ex-Girlfriends, Guns, Violence, Drugs and Drug Culture, Local Police
Fears :  Illegal Detention and Harassment by Local Police, Closing the Pawn Shop at Night, Yokels with Guns

History :  "You know, you work your entire life buildin' something.  Me, I was fixin' to be an engineer.  An electrical engineer.  My daddy once brought home this little gimmick from work, a circuit board.  They used to sell em' at Radio Shack for forty bucks or so, but someone pawned one for five bucks two months back and he defaulted on it.  Instead of sellin' it, my old man thought that I might like it. 

He sure was good at reckonin' the character of a person, my old man was.  I sure miss him.

Anyways, I really liked that circuit board.  I musta' spent hours in the ole' den workin' out different junctions.  Soon enough, I got to makin' little experiments with copper wire so's you could build yourself a little radio.  Started playin' with batteries an' magnets.  Mama started gettin' fed up with my experimenting.  I started gettin' into her kitchen, an' she sure as hell -- excuse my language -- didn't want me fryin' her appliances.  Nearly electrocuted myself shovin' a knife into the toaster.  Mama had enough, so she kicked me out and off I went to make trouble for myself at my pa's store.

Now, he ran one of 'em pawn stores.  His daddy gave it to him, an' he was going to hand it down to one of his sons.  Store paid his wages, that's for sure.  He nearly made eight hundred thousand every quarter just on melting gold alone.  Anyways, I roll around, a ten year old kid, and my daddy puts me in the back fixin' VCRs and old gaming systems.  He says that they're already broken, so I shouldn't feel bad if I couldn't fix em'.  Well, I didn't fix squat that first day.  But I loved openin' them cases up, an' fiddling with the innards of them machines.  I get teary-eyed thinkin' of how beautiful the board on an old Dreamcast looked.  That was a thing of beauty, an' that is no lie.

So, I start botherin' at my pa's shop after school and on weekends.  We're the only pawn shop in town that's open on Sundays.  Instead of spendin' a couple of hours there, I'm spending the entire day.  Instead of workin' on just the old junk electronics, tryin' to resuscitate faulty junk my older brother Mike invested money in, I'm cleanin' jewelry.  Or I'm sweepin' the floor.  Or I'm gettin' an item from the shelf because my pa's a little short-staffed.  But I'm always workin' on something.  And sure enough, I get better at fixin' junk.  Soon enough, there ain't nothin' that comes my way that I can't fix.  My pa laughed when I told him that you needed an hair dryer to fix the cracked screen on an iPod.

Soon enough, I got to earnin' a salary workin' 20 hours a week as a technician.  My daddy moved me around the store, so that I wouldn't get bored.  We tried not to buy junk electronics all of the time, so sometimes there wasn't much for me to do, especially since I got after it right quick.  So I learned how to loan.  I learned how to buy.  I learned how to sell.  I learned how to run inventories, an' how to maintain the warehouse.  It was fun, but I gotta say that the biggest perks is seein' what walks through the door.

She was a beauty, and it was love at first sight.  Now, sure, it's just a bicycle.  I give you that much.  But this bad girl is made out of carbon fiber.  It's as light as a feather and nearly impact proof.  Dudes jump off of cliffs with these bitches -- excuse my language -- and the bike comes out of it way better than them dudes.  Now, the guy only wanted a loan for $300 for it.  The bike's worth about six grand!  So, for two months, I'm waitin' around for the police to show up with a complaint about a stolen bike, but nobody ever showed up.  I tried to call the guy to get him to come pick his bike up, but nobody ever picked up.  Man, I wanted this bike.

So I told my daddy, 'Hey, I wanna buy this bike.  How much will you sell it to me for?'

An' he goes, 'how much we got in it?'

I says, 'just three hundred.'

You know what he says?  He tells me that if I want it, I gotta pay $900 for it!  Doggone it, I was mad.  But sure enough, I worked for it and it was worth it.  My pa was always teachin' me lessons like that.  He ain' never played catch with me or took me to a park.  But doggone it if he didn' always have a funny way to show me he cared 'bout my upbringing.

So, I feel like a lot of what I learned in the backroom of that pawnshop translated well towards my education in electrical engineerin'.  See, it was like workin' with things that you understood, but didn't have a name for.  Like, whenever I came home from work, I rode up under this tree that blossomed these orange little fruits that I ain' never knew the name of.  I knew what they tasted like, and knew that I liked them.  But nobody knew what the heck them sonovabitches were called.  Same thing wit' the mathematical mumbo jumbo behind what I was doin' with my soldering gun.  I got it on two levels.  College classes on the hard sciences part were easy for me, but I really struggled with the liberal arts stuff.  Some of it was all right.  I really liked readin' Hemingway, but I mostly flirted with girls durin' those class periods.

I ain't somebody that kisses and tells.  Can't say it's for gentlemanly reasons, but it's cause I've done quite a bit of it an' I can't get down a cohesive timeline that doesn't put me in bed with girl A when I was in a relationship with girl B.  But, college sure is fun.  I liked the parties.  Shame it all had to end the way it did.

They're called lychees, by the way.  The fruits that nobody knew the name of.  Some Korean lady went ape shit for 'em one day, an' she told me that they're from her country.

Sexuality :  Heterosexual
Sexual On's and Offs :  Enjoys casual sex with random women and group settings;  since the death of his girlfriend, he isn't into romantic trysts.

Player : Phantom Pistoleer
[/list][/list]

Approved...stick him in the approved characters thread and pop into the OOC. Welcome to the game.

Quote from: ManofDawnLight on April 28, 2014, 12:34:45 AM
Hopefully I'm posting this correctly.


Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
Full Name:  [Dr. Frederick Anser]
Nicknames / Aliases : Doctor Shocks
Age :[54]
Sex :[male]
Marital Status :[single]

Former Occupation/Position :[Military Electrical Engineer-R&D]
Strengths :[Calculator brain; vast knowledge of physics and chemistry]
Weaknesses :[a sort of dark, twisted sense of humor; anger when his inventions fail]
Special Gear :[small, electric appliance tools; a small pistol; a laser pointer]

Height :[5'10]
Weight / Body type :[medium with a bit of aged handlebars]
Hair :[grey/white]
Skin :[Caucasian]
Eyes :[A green color]
Distinguishing Features :[his Einsteinesque hair; high-pitched giggle when happy ]

Personality :[A real life mad scientist, however most scientist will tell you that the so-called "mad scientist" is actually an engineer; he's almost impossibly optimistic in most situations, even hopeless ones.  However, his temper flies off the handle when physics and engineering fail him.  He loves getting as many volunteers in his projects as possible.  The teacher in him will never leave.]

Likes :[Electricity]
Dislikes :[Water]
Fears :[Being without some sort of technology]

History :[Dr. Frederick Anser, a genius in his own right, but his madness keeps him from ever being taken seriously.  In fact, he usually never is.  Before the plague, he was working with the government on experimental research on the electrical usage efficiency on modern appliances.  He was obviously overqualified.  He was on his way into the research of transmitting electrical charges outside of the confines of a wire, but his comrades used politics to push him out of the way.  It's a pity.  He probably would have helped.  Everyday he would go about his usual work, and then go home to spend the rest of his waking hours doing the research he should have been doing at work.  It was a sad life.  He knew it, but what was he supposed to do?  Develop good people skills?  One day as he was working on the engineering of the common cellphone, the red lights went off, the sirens blared, and all the doors to the military base closed off.  Unfortunately it did not do so fast enough, and everyone inside the base became prisoners with zombies skittering in the dark.  Dr. Anser, along with his co-workers and some officers, pulled their resources together and fought off the undead as long as they possibly could while simultaneously trying to find a way out.  Three months later, Dr.Anser escaped the base.  No one else did.  Now, in this desolate wasteland called America, he can make a difference.  People have to listen to him, no matter how distasteful they think discussions about the merits of Original Star Trek are.  He's also developed a bit of insanity and takes great joys in creating new ways to kill the undead.  Perhaps a way of passive revenge?  He's still a genius, no matter how mad he is, and he's a benefit to any group of survivors with access to electricity.]

Sexuality :[heterosexual]
Sexual On's and Offs :[Ons-Cosplay with Sci-fi themes (character-wise)  Personally, I'm open to a lot except for scat and anal.]

Player :[ManofDawnLight]
One little nitpicky thing... I need you to note how much ammo he has to start with (if it's none, then just note it please). Otherwise, he's good to go.


Quote from: DarkAngel111 on April 28, 2014, 02:30:17 AM
Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
Full Name : Scott Campbell
Nicknames / Aliases : Scotty
Age : 26
Sex : Male   
Marital Status : Single   

Former Occupation/Position : Street Racer/ Student/ Low level Crimes.   
Strengths :
•   Driver: He can drive through hell and back he is good at evasive as well as fast driving
•   Street Smart: He is a good talker he can talk his way out of trouble.
•   Brawler: He is good with his arms and hands, a lot of upper body strength.
•   Good Shot: Although he had little experience before Z-day he usually hits his target at a modest distance.

Weaknesses :
•Not use to of living the way life is now.
•He has trouble leaving his car behind, and usually prefers to drive even if it means trouble.
•Selfish: He would rather save his own skin in times of greater perils.
•He is in a bit of denial of what is happening. Still Sees them as People.

Special Gear :
•   9MM Glock (30 rounds)
•   M1 grand with a bayonet. (45 rounds)
•   Winchester 70 Scoped (25 Magnum rounds, 20 large caliber, 50 standard rounds)
•   Beretta (one full magazine, 50 rounds)
•   An old tire Iron
•   Two large fuel containers in the trunk of his car. (1 empty 1 full)
•   A baseball Bat Broken but has a sharp edge.
•   10 000 Cash under the seat of his car.
•   Two Packs of beef jerky
•   5 cans of food (mystery)
•   One 2 liter water bottle (use to be a soft drink bottle)

Height: 5’11
Weight / Body type : Muscular.
Hair :Dirty Blonde   
Skin : White
Eyes : Blue
Distinguishing Features : Two Tattoos on Either Arms of Letter ‘A’

Personality : Scott is a hot headed adrenaline junkie who rarely thinks before acting. He is a very temperamental individual.

Likes: Fast Cars, Hot Girls, Anything he can bet on.
Dislikes: Lurkers(zombies), Any place with laws(He enjoys breaking or bending them)
Fears : Losing his car, Becoming one of them.

History: Scott was born and raised in very well to do family, his father had connections high up and usually he managed to pull strings for his son and his own business. Scott had been brought up with the concept that rules were meant to be broken, or bent to his will. His father or mother had never been around most of his life and thus he never really had anyone to mentor him.

Some bad company and drinks with the wrong type of people he was into the street racing scene. He had the cash to have top of the line ride with the best modifications made. He learned a bit about the modifications as well. Although he was never a gear head and had no knowledge about fixing things. He knew how to get a few body modifications done and usually worked on his own designs for his cars. Over the years he picked up a few more illegal hobbies and was holding up trucks or simply stores to get a bit of thrill, A few of the arrests were taken care of by his father who never  even seemed bothered by what he had done as long as it was fixable.

Not long after all hell broke loose. He had been in his house watching the news which was focusing on the illegal street racing scene. He knew that a crackdown had been imminent with the FBI and Local police in on the case. But the news was soon completely taken over by biting people or cannibals as he had called them. Most of the servants within his house had run to their houses in downtown to go to their families he had remained held up in his house for a good part of 4 months. It was after that time that he finally started getting attention of looters who were either trying to rob the Valuables in the houses around his.

He had used his father’s Old rifle which was a part of his small gun collection. Scott had used up a lot of the ammunition trying to scare the looters away from his house and finally decided to bail out He loaded the rear of his Mustang GT with some food, water and guns and ammunition, if anything, the living had been a bigger threat during the first 2 months than the dead. And the next 2 months the dead kept swarming around the house. He had loaded 3 10 gallon cans of fuel siphoning them from all the cars around the house and decided to drive out of the suburbs. He has been sleeping in his car and driving around town looking for some where safe to hold down at.

Sexuality : Straight   
Sexual On's and Offs : Same as Player (ask if you must)

Player : DarkAngel111



*throws my new character in.*

*wonders who would want to pair up*


He's approved. You know the drill :P
Current Craving/Looking For: Romance, Adventure, Action, Humor, and Erotica. (F/Any)

Current Post Rate: Moderate

Current Posts Owed: 1/8

My O/Os


Amelita

Submitting for approval!




Full Name : Charlotte Riley
Nicknames / Aliases : Charlie
Age : 28
Sex : female
Marital Status : single

Former Occupation/Position : elementary school teacher
Strengths :

  • Patience - Both when dealing with people and tasks, Charlie has seemingly endless patience which has given her advantage throughout her life and especially in the last crazy six months of it.
  • Broad knowledge base - She isn't an expert at everything, in fact she isn't really an expert at anything, but she has vast base of knowledge as any unspecialised teacher would, knows a little about a lot and has adapted an abstract way of implementing her knowledge when more creative solutions need to be applied to solve problems.
  • Athletism - She's always kept herself in good shape, so she's fast and strong. 
  • 'Girl Scout' skills - Countless camping trips, fishing expeditions and hunting trips with her parents, which then developed into her own excursions as an adult and even partially into her work as a teacher, have earned her several skills in the roughin' it category. Basic first aid, basic survival tricks, nothing extreme.
Weaknesses :

  • Kids - she can't kill them. Even when they're trying to eat her, she just can't bring herself to take down a child.
  • Stubborn - in tune with her patience comes this. Once she makes up her mind there is no changing it. Logic and reason do not stand a chance against what she believes is the best course of action if that mood strikes her.
  • Trusting - she assumes everyone is great until otherwise proven, and is unfortunately easily duped that way.

Special Gear :
Driving around in a 'borrowed' soccer mom's SUV (a Buick Enclave which has conveniently spacious interiors). Never mind the shiny pic, it's not that clean and nice anymore >.>

inside the car...

from an early hardware store raid
22 inch machete knife
A toolbox that's lost a few of its original occupants. The hacksaw for instance got left buried in a face somewhere along the way, as did one of the screwdrivers.

Camping gear in a hiking backpack:
1 Small and 1 medium aluminium cooking pot, stored inside each other with a dishtowel between them
Campfire cooking tripod, foldable (aluminium)
An old but well taken care of hunting knife
A spoon
compass
ground tarp, stakes and small tent (1 person)
lightweight sleeping bag
regular lighter (half full)
1 litre waterbottle
clothesline and clothe pins
can/bottle opener
first aid kit
sunscreen

Edibles:
Canned foods
-Spam (9 cans)
-Soup (7 cans)
-Baked beans (5 cans)
Dry foods
-1 pound bags of bowtie pasta (3 bags)
-1 pound bags of screws pasta (2 bags)
-5 pound bag of oats (3/4 full)

Other:
roadmap of california
black nike cap
2 gallon gas can (empty)
5.3 gallon (20 litre) gas can (full)
foam mattress (kid size)
two blankets

Height : 5'6
Weight / Body type : slender but athletic
Hair : dark brown
Skin : light but tans easily
Eyes : dark grey
Distinguishing Features : none

Personality : Charlie is kind, stubborn and ready to help if help is needed. She can't stand idle if something bad is happening but she is rational and approaches things with caution if she possibly can. She wouldn't risk her life for a stranger, but she would for anyone whom she'd gotten to know if they were decent people. Even if they weren't all that decent. She likes to think others would do the same for her. She's quick to adapt, and quick to learn. She's also quick to like people, and generally likes people. She approaches others with a 'good until otherwise proven' mindset and forgives easily. Perhaps a little too easily.

Likes : coffee, smell of fresh air in the morning, starry skies, hunting and fishing, reading, singing
Dislikes : pointless violence and cruelty, hunting for sport, bugs, snakes
Fears : getting stuck inside a small space, being eaten, never finding Gideon

History :
Born and raised in California, Charlie had a rich and warm childhood. Her parents were very much in love with each other and life, and their only daughter was granted the full weight of their affection  all through the time she had them around. They were rather old when they had her, her mother in her forties and her father in his fifties, but that never stopped them from enjoying parenthood. Her mother was a history professor and her father was a firestation chief. Both of them were very outdoorsy, and all free time was spent hiking, hunting, fishing, camping and generally traveling the country.
Charlie had full access to her mother‘s extensive library and explored it little by little through her childhood and teens, her mother always available to answer questions and raise new ones to encourage her daughter‘s curiosity. Meanwhile it was her father who schooled her on things like how to tie knots on a fishing line, and how to skin a rabbit. These were precious years, and well spent.
Her best friend from a young age was Gideon, a boy whom she fell absolutely in love with as a starry eyed little girl and has loved ever since. This affection never turned into anything other than a close sisterly bond, however, and perhaps that was the reason they stuck together so well year after year. When she graduated college and started teaching in the local elementary school, the two friends moved in together, sharing a small but comfortable two bedroom apartment.
Since then she‘s worked at the school. She has also acted as a supportive parent to several families who needed an extra hand with home and kids, and she‘s done work at the community centre with kids that usually involved nature walks or treasure hunts. Working with kids is what she wants to do with her life.

Z-Day
Charlie had spent the morning outside with her class and the rest of the school day in their classroom. Once the bell rang and the energetic eight year olds flooded out of the room, she settled in with her iPod and a stack of papers to grade for her eleven year olds. By the time she got up to leave she was the only one left in the building aside from Mr. Tomson, the janitor.  He‘d been in his own little world walking room to room, cleaning the floors until Charlie got ready to leave. The old man finished up and they left the building together, making small talk. But what greeted them wasn‘t the empty parking lot as usually.
The door shut with a subtle thump and the lock rattled slightly when Mr. Tomson turned the key, Charlie frozen to the spot and unable to utter a word of warning. The old man turned around with a smile and froze right next to her.
It was a battleground, or worse. The parking lot was littered with bodies and crawling over them were people, tearing into the dead people‘s flesh like wild animals. The sound, moans and groans and guttural noises, were somehow worse than the sight of this. It took Charlie a few seconds to realize that the people eating the dead were not normal people. Some of them were torn to shreds in part, some had gaping wounds that didn‘t seem to be bleeding.
Her car was on the far side of the lot. She would have to walk between dozens of these people to get to it. There were cars closer to her, some even had open doors like Mrs. Connors‘ SUV. Where was she? Why was that car still here when the woman must have picked up her sons hours ago? Her sons...
A sharp inhale shook Charlie‘s body and she clasped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming when she recognized one of the Connors boys‘ clothes on the ground. The child‘s limbs and head were covered by the creatures, perhaps thankfully so, but it was enough to startle Charlie into action. Blindly, and without any thought, she walked forward only to be pulled back by Mr. Tomson who stepped in front of her to protect her from one of those creatures who‘d been dragging its feet toward them without Charlie noticing. The creature lunged at the old man, tore into his throat and a scream caught in Charlie‘s throat at the helpless dispair in the man‘s eyes when he was brought to his knees.
Her heart was racing and she had trouble breathing properly but she stumbled forward, too afraid to try running and be seen by any of the large number of creatures so close by. Her hands shook and her knees shook but she made it over to Mrs. Connors‘ car and pulled open the driver side door which was already ajar. A small yelp escaped her when the lifeless body of the woman dropped from the seat and into her arms, her hands coming out to catch her by pure instinct. The stench was terrible, and there was no way to help her, Charlie realized. How she managed to pull the woman‘s body out of the car and replace her in the driver seat was a mystery.
She looked into the back of the car and wasn‘t sure if it was a good or bad thing that it was empty, but that was all the time she had. The creatures had noticed her when she closed the car door, and were moving in from all sides. The keys were in the ignition, sticky with blood like the seat she was on and the whole dashboard, but Charlie started the car and stepped on the gas, and sped onto the road and straight towards her house.
Her parents were gone, they‘d both passed a few months ago, and she had no siblings. Her only concern was Gideon. Fumbling through her bag as she navigated the streets, trying her best not to think about what had just happened or the creatures roaming the streets, she found her phone and realized it was off. The battery must have died.
When she reached her house, she ran inside and called out for her friend but got no reply. She tried calling him but his phone went straight to voicemail. Their backyard was crawling with creatures, creatures she to her horror recognized as neighbours, and her first instinct was to run. She had to get out of there, and she had to find Gideon.
When she stormed through the apartment, throwing things into a duffelbag, she tried to rationalize what she was doing. It was precaution. This wasn‘t real, this would be dealt with. It wasn‘t some outbreak like in the movies, there would be armed forces who would take care of this and everything would be fine. Taking spare clothes and food and her dad‘s guns was just... A precaution. Grabbing her hiking backpack, stuffed with all essentials since that was how she stored it to save space, was just a precaution. She wouldn‘t need any of it... She would be back here tomorrow at the latest.
But when she left her home in the borrowed car, hurrying out of there since creatures had again started closing in on her, she only got about an hour of driving around before she was herded towards some shelter. A long line of cars led to there, and military vehicles ran up and down beside it on patrol, shooting down the creatures. When the shelter was in sight, Charlie saw people arguing and then being turned away, a few cars ahead of her. For a few minutes everything halted and there were screams and yells and finally gunshots, and then the creatures. A man holding a rifle slammed against the passenger side of the car and Charlie yelped out in fear as he was torn into by a creature. The car before her in line moved backwards and then forward, obviously trying to get out of the line and she didn‘t have any choice. Either she‘d stay and risk entering whatever chaos had ensued at this shelter, which unknown to her had simply become too full and people told to go to the next one, or she‘d leave. There was a stubborn nagging thought in her head when she turned the car and left the line, that maybe Gideon was in there and she was leaving him, and leaving safety. But when she drove on and saw the mess she would have been staying for, creatures attacking cars and even a military vehicle brought down by a group of them, she knew she made the right call. This wasn‘t safe. She had to find somewhere else, some other shelter.
A few minutes later she came upon a car crash, and when she was about to circle around to avoid it, grateful for the fact that poor Mrs. Connors had gotten herself a big car like this with a fourwheel drive, she noticed kids. Children, inside a car that had been crushed under another. Her heart pounded and fear made her mouth taste like iron but she couldn‘t just leave them. So, she drove as close as she could and took a few deep breaths, and then ran for that other car. She dragged open the door and flinched at the stench of blood and god knew what else. The kids‘ parents had been killed in the crash and were dead in the front seats, stuck between the crushed roof and their seats. Charlie pulled the kids out, two little boys who couldn‘t be older than five and seven, and was trying to get their backpacks free when she witnessed the first turn. The dad, in the driver seat, started moving. His lifeless body somehow sprung to life and he started snarling and grunting, and reaching for her. His eyes were terrible and inhuman, and his hand felt cold as it brushed against her, and she jerked backwards to escape. The kids were sobbing, and Charlie felt like joining them really, but they had to get out of there.
Two hours later she found another shelter. It was in a suburb, well outside the city, and people were being herded there like into the first one. She squeezed into the car line and breathed easy for the half hour it took to get to the barricated gate, but when she got there she couldn‘t bring herself to hand over the keys to the car. What if Gideon wasn‘t in there? She‘d need the car to find him. It took considerable argument to get to keep the keys but she did, and was let into  the shelter with the two boys who clung to her sides, terrified.
She stayed there for two days. Gideon was not there, and did not come there before they closed the door to new people. She‘d recharged her phone but it was no use, the network was down. Everything was down. The radio broadcasted horrifying information that was supposed to be comforting, news of shelters and government reactions. News of a large barricated safe zone.
When she left, along with two others and the two boys, Taylor and Micah, she headed for that safe zone.
Six months later she had learned there were no safe zones, she had killed too many creatures to count, had to defend herself from those and other people too, lost the boys, lost her companions, gained new ones and lost those, become a hardened shell of her old self in a way but some things stayed the same no matter what. She always tried to help, she always took in people if she could, she could not kill kids, she moved around and lived in the borrowed SUV, and... she had every intention of finding Gideon.


Sexuality : Heteroflexible
Sexual On's and Offs : Player's

Player : Amelita


RP Etiquette ~ Tumblr ~ Mumbler
~ There is nothing to writing; all you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed ~
Ons & Offs ~ Post Tracker ~ Ladies in Red

Kokaine

Quote from: Amelita on May 02, 2014, 08:10:08 AM
Submitting for approval!




Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
Full Name : Charlotte Riley
Nicknames / Aliases : Charlie
Age : 28
Sex : female
Marital Status : single

Former Occupation/Position : elementary school teacher
Strengths :

  • Patience - Both when dealing with people and tasks, Charlie has seemingly endless patience which has given her advantage throughout her life and especially in the last crazy six months of it.
  • Broad knowledge base - She isn't an expert at everything, in fact she isn't really an expert at anything, but she has vast base of knowledge as any unspecialised teacher would, knows a little about a lot and has adapted an abstract way of implementing her knowledge when more creative solutions need to be applied to solve problems.
  • Athletism - She's always kept herself in good shape, so she's fast and strong. 
  • 'Girl Scout' skills - Countless camping trips, fishing expeditions and hunting trips with her parents, which then developed into her own excursions as an adult and even partially into her work as a teacher, have earned her several skills in the roughin' it category. Basic first aid, basic survival tricks, nothing extreme.
Weaknesses :

  • Kids - she can't kill them. Even when they're trying to eat her, she just can't bring herself to take down a child.
  • Stubborn - in tune with her patience comes this. Once she makes up her mind there is no changing it. Logic and reason do not stand a chance against what she believes is the best course of action if that mood strikes her.
  • Trusting - she assumes everyone is great until otherwise proven, and is unfortunately easily duped that way.

Special Gear :
Driving around in a 'borrowed' soccer mom's SUV (a Buick Enclave which has conveniently spacious interiors). Never mind the shiny pic, it's not that clean and nice anymore >.>

inside the car...

from an early hardware store raid
22 inch machete knife
A toolbox that's lost a few of its original occupants. The hacksaw for instance got left buried in a face somewhere along the way, as did one of the screwdrivers.

Camping gear in a hiking backpack:
1 Small and 1 medium aluminium cooking pot, stored inside each other with a dishtowel between them
Campfire cooking tripod, foldable (aluminium)
An old but well taken care of hunting knife
A spoon
compass
ground tarp, stakes and small tent (1 person)
lightweight sleeping bag
regular lighter (half full)
1 litre waterbottle
clothesline and clothe pins
can/bottle opener
first aid kit
sunscreen

Edibles:
Canned foods
-Spam (9 cans)
-Soup (7 cans)
-Baked beans (5 cans)
Dry foods
-1 pound bags of bowtie pasta (3 bags)
-1 pound bags of screws pasta (2 bags)
-5 pound bag of oats (3/4 full)

Other:
roadmap of california
black nike cap
2 gallon gas can (empty)
5.3 gallon (20 litre) gas can (full)
foam mattress (kid size)
two blankets

Height : 5'6
Weight / Body type : slender but athletic
Hair : dark brown
Skin : light but tans easily
Eyes : dark grey
Distinguishing Features : none

Personality : Charlie is kind, stubborn and ready to help if help is needed. She can't stand idle if something bad is happening but she is rational and approaches things with caution if she possibly can. She wouldn't risk her life for a stranger, but she would for anyone whom she'd gotten to know if they were decent people. Even if they weren't all that decent. She likes to think others would do the same for her. She's quick to adapt, and quick to learn. She's also quick to like people, and generally likes people. She approaches others with a 'good until otherwise proven' mindset and forgives easily. Perhaps a little too easily.

Likes : coffee, smell of fresh air in the morning, starry skies, hunting and fishing, reading, singing
Dislikes : pointless violence and cruelty, hunting for sport, bugs, snakes
Fears : getting stuck inside a small space, being eaten, never finding Gideon

History :
Born and raised in California, Charlie had a rich and warm childhood. Her parents were very much in love with each other and life, and their only daughter was granted the full weight of their affection  all through the time she had them around. They were rather old when they had her, her mother in her forties and her father in his fifties, but that never stopped them from enjoying parenthood. Her mother was a history professor and her father was a firestation chief. Both of them were very outdoorsy, and all free time was spent hiking, hunting, fishing, camping and generally traveling the country.
Charlie had full access to her mother‘s extensive library and explored it little by little through her childhood and teens, her mother always available to answer questions and raise new ones to encourage her daughter‘s curiosity. Meanwhile it was her father who schooled her on things like how to tie knots on a fishing line, and how to skin a rabbit. These were precious years, and well spent.
Her best friend from a young age was Gideon, a boy whom she fell absolutely in love with as a starry eyed little girl and has loved ever since. This affection never turned into anything other than a close sisterly bond, however, and perhaps that was the reason they stuck together so well year after year. When she graduated college and started teaching in the local elementary school, the two friends moved in together, sharing a small but comfortable two bedroom apartment.
Since then she‘s worked at the school. She has also acted as a supportive parent to several families who needed an extra hand with home and kids, and she‘s done work at the community centre with kids that usually involved nature walks or treasure hunts. Working with kids is what she wants to do with her life.

Z-Day
Charlie had spent the morning outside with her class and the rest of the school day in their classroom. Once the bell rang and the energetic eight year olds flooded out of the room, she settled in with her iPod and a stack of papers to grade for her eleven year olds. By the time she got up to leave she was the only one left in the building aside from Mr. Tomson, the janitor.  He‘d been in his own little world walking room to room, cleaning the floors until Charlie got ready to leave. The old man finished up and they left the building together, making small talk. But what greeted them wasn‘t the empty parking lot as usually.
The door shut with a subtle thump and the lock rattled slightly when Mr. Tomson turned the key, Charlie frozen to the spot and unable to utter a word of warning. The old man turned around with a smile and froze right next to her.
It was a battleground, or worse. The parking lot was littered with bodies and crawling over them were people, tearing into the dead people‘s flesh like wild animals. The sound, moans and groans and guttural noises, were somehow worse than the sight of this. It took Charlie a few seconds to realize that the people eating the dead were not normal people. Some of them were torn to shreds in part, some had gaping wounds that didn‘t seem to be bleeding.
Her car was on the far side of the lot. She would have to walk between dozens of these people to get to it. There were cars closer to her, some even had open doors like Mrs. Connors‘ SUV. Where was she? Why was that car still here when the woman must have picked up her sons hours ago? Her sons...
A sharp inhale shook Charlie‘s body and she clasped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming when she recognized one of the Connors boys‘ clothes on the ground. The child‘s limbs and head were covered by the creatures, perhaps thankfully so, but it was enough to startle Charlie into action. Blindly, and without any thought, she walked forward only to be pulled back by Mr. Tomson who stepped in front of her to protect her from one of those creatures who‘d been dragging its feet toward them without Charlie noticing. The creature lunged at the old man, tore into his throat and a scream caught in Charlie‘s throat at the helpless dispair in the man‘s eyes when he was brought to his knees.
Her heart was racing and she had trouble breathing properly but she stumbled forward, too afraid to try running and be seen by any of the large number of creatures so close by. Her hands shook and her knees shook but she made it over to Mrs. Connors‘ car and pulled open the driver side door which was already ajar. A small yelp escaped her when the lifeless body of the woman dropped from the seat and into her arms, her hands coming out to catch her by pure instinct. The stench was terrible, and there was no way to help her, Charlie realized. How she managed to pull the woman‘s body out of the car and replace her in the driver seat was a mystery.
She looked into the back of the car and wasn‘t sure if it was a good or bad thing that it was empty, but that was all the time she had. The creatures had noticed her when she closed the car door, and were moving in from all sides. The keys were in the ignition, sticky with blood like the seat she was on and the whole dashboard, but Charlie started the car and stepped on the gas, and sped onto the road and straight towards her house.
Her parents were gone, they‘d both passed a few months ago, and she had no siblings. Her only concern was Gideon. Fumbling through her bag as she navigated the streets, trying her best not to think about what had just happened or the creatures roaming the streets, she found her phone and realized it was off. The battery must have died.
When she reached her house, she ran inside and called out for her friend but got no reply. She tried calling him but his phone went straight to voicemail. Their backyard was crawling with creatures, creatures she to her horror recognized as neighbours, and her first instinct was to run. She had to get out of there, and she had to find Gideon.
When she stormed through the apartment, throwing things into a duffelbag, she tried to rationalize what she was doing. It was precaution. This wasn‘t real, this would be dealt with. It wasn‘t some outbreak like in the movies, there would be armed forces who would take care of this and everything would be fine. Taking spare clothes and food and her dad‘s guns was just... A precaution. Grabbing her hiking backpack, stuffed with all essentials since that was how she stored it to save space, was just a precaution. She wouldn‘t need any of it... She would be back here tomorrow at the latest.
But when she left her home in the borrowed car, hurrying out of there since creatures had again started closing in on her, she only got about an hour of driving around before she was herded towards some shelter. A long line of cars led to there, and military vehicles ran up and down beside it on patrol, shooting down the creatures. When the shelter was in sight, Charlie saw people arguing and then being turned away, a few cars ahead of her. For a few minutes everything halted and there were screams and yells and finally gunshots, and then the creatures. A man holding a rifle slammed against the passenger side of the car and Charlie yelped out in fear as he was torn into by a creature. The car before her in line moved backwards and then forward, obviously trying to get out of the line and she didn‘t have any choice. Either she‘d stay and risk entering whatever chaos had ensued at this shelter, which unknown to her had simply become too full and people told to go to the next one, or she‘d leave. There was a stubborn nagging thought in her head when she turned the car and left the line, that maybe Gideon was in there and she was leaving him, and leaving safety. But when she drove on and saw the mess she would have been staying for, creatures attacking cars and even a military vehicle brought down by a group of them, she knew she made the right call. This wasn‘t safe. She had to find somewhere else, some other shelter.
A few minutes later she came upon a car crash, and when she was about to circle around to avoid it, grateful for the fact that poor Mrs. Connors had gotten herself a big car like this with a fourwheel drive, she noticed kids. Children, inside a car that had been crushed under another. Her heart pounded and fear made her mouth taste like iron but she couldn‘t just leave them. So, she drove as close as she could and took a few deep breaths, and then ran for that other car. She dragged open the door and flinched at the stench of blood and god knew what else. The kids‘ parents had been killed in the crash and were dead in the front seats, stuck between the crushed roof and their seats. Charlie pulled the kids out, two little boys who couldn‘t be older than five and seven, and was trying to get their backpacks free when she witnessed the first turn. The dad, in the driver seat, started moving. His lifeless body somehow sprung to life and he started snarling and grunting, and reaching for her. His eyes were terrible and inhuman, and his hand felt cold as it brushed against her, and she jerked backwards to escape. The kids were sobbing, and Charlie felt like joining them really, but they had to get out of there.
Two hours later she found another shelter. It was in a suburb, well outside the city, and people were being herded there like into the first one. She squeezed into the car line and breathed easy for the half hour it took to get to the barricated gate, but when she got there she couldn‘t bring herself to hand over the keys to the car. What if Gideon wasn‘t in there? She‘d need the car to find him. It took considerable argument to get to keep the keys but she did, and was let into  the shelter with the two boys who clung to her sides, terrified.
She stayed there for two days. Gideon was not there, and did not come there before they closed the door to new people. She‘d recharged her phone but it was no use, the network was down. Everything was down. The radio broadcasted horrifying information that was supposed to be comforting, news of shelters and government reactions. News of a large barricated safe zone.
When she left, along with two others and the two boys, Taylor and Micah, she headed for that safe zone.
Six months later she had learned there were no safe zones, she had killed too many creatures to count, had to defend herself from those and other people too, lost the boys, lost her companions, gained new ones and lost those, become a hardened shell of her old self in a way but some things stayed the same no matter what. She always tried to help, she always took in people if she could, she could not kill kids, she moved around and lived in the borrowed SUV, and... she had every intention of finding Gideon.


Sexuality : Heteroflexible
Sexual On's and Offs : Player's

Player : Amelita
She's approved. Welcome to the game luv :)

Oh and Gideon's plans have changed so let me know if you want to have them meet up sooner rather than later.
Current Craving/Looking For: Romance, Adventure, Action, Humor, and Erotica. (F/Any)

Current Post Rate: Moderate

Current Posts Owed: 1/8

My O/Os

Bloodied Porcelain

I love this game. We're just shy of 350 posts and still going strong! *dance*
I want no ordinary lover. I want a storm. I want sleepless nights and endless conversations at four a.m. I want passion, I want madness.
I want someone who's able to make my whole body shiver from a distance and also pull me close to make sense of all my bones.

~ Bizarre, Beautiful, And Breathtaking ~
~ O/O ~ Seeking ~ A/A ~ Mirrors and Masks ~ Poetry ~
She walked with the universe on her shoulders and made it look like wings.

agentlemanwithadream

I'll just put this here..


Full Name : Clint Lewis
Nicknames / Aliases : Lew, C, Boss
Age : 29
Sex : Male
Marital Status : Single

Former Occupation/Position : Tattoo Artist, Fabricator
Strengths :
  • Resourceful – Working as a tattoo artist by day and a fabricator by night makes Clint used to thinking of creative ways to solve problems.
  • Hardened – Life after the end of the world is gritty, luckily, Clint isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.
Weaknesses :
  • No Rural Survival Skills – Clint never was a country boy so any time spent out in the woods makes him virtually useless.
  • Confrontational – Clint wasn’t a fan of too many people before the world went to shit, now that it has he’s been screwed over enough to want to be the one doing the screwing if it has to happen.
    Special Gear :
    • Full sized Maglite
    • Handheld Crowbar

    Height : 6’1
    Weight / Body type : 180 lbs, skinny or lanky
    Hair : Buzzed as often as possible
    Skin : White but not pale, due to all the time spent outside
    Eyes : An interesting shade of blueish grey
    Distinguishing Features : All of the tattoos

    Personality : Most people would define Clint as cold. The type of person that takes what he wants and goes along with his day with a general disregard for people who are close to him. Most people would be right. Those closest to him, mostly Emma and the crew he rolled with before, know that Clint is the kind of person who does what is best for his people. The end of the civilized would meant that he was free to do as he pleased, as long as he had the right crew around him.

    Likes : Sex, Alcohol, Killing ‘them’, Rolling with a crew
    Dislikes : Authority figures from before the outbreak, people who claim to have a moral compass, girls who aren’t putting out
    Fears : Being bitten, especially in his sleep and betrayal

    History : Before the turn, Clint was your typical everyday friendly neighborhood deviant. After receiving his first tattoo at the age of sixteen, with a fake id, he was kicked out of his upper-lower class home and sent to fend for himself. Clint didn’t mind as he was tired of living with his know-it-all parents anyway. He completed high school, only so that he could attend both art class and the fabrication shop and Clint ended up turning his passions into his careers.

    For many years, money was tight for the young, emancipated teen. He bounced around from shelter to shelter and tattoo shop to shop as he tried to get a solid foothold in life. Nobody wanted to get tats from a kid that young so he spent most of his time drawing, or drawing up, tattoos for himself. Clint found that he could hid his age in a fabrication shop and, after wielding a muffler that had several bullet hole in it, he found work with one of the local gangs. Once they found out that Clint could tat as well, his position within the group was solidified.

    Unfortunately, the world fell to shit before Clint could really make it as an artist. He was fond of the gang mentality, take care of your brother. It was probably the strongest lesson he brought with him to the new fucked up world.

    Sexuality : Heterosexual
    Sexual On's and Offs : A Gentleman's O&O's However, Clint has rape-y tendencies.

    Player : agentlemanwithadream

Kokaine

Current Craving/Looking For: Romance, Adventure, Action, Humor, and Erotica. (F/Any)

Current Post Rate: Moderate

Current Posts Owed: 1/8

My O/Os

Chasseybaby

Hello! ^^ Hope everything looks alright!

Emma Clarkson
Full Name : Emma Clarkson
Nicknames / Aliases : Ems
Age : 27
Sex : Female
Marital Status : Widowed

Former Occupation/Position : was an ER Nurse at St. Mills Hospital
Strengths :

  • Advance first aid and emergency medical training- being a ER nurse for a solid three years has left her with the knowledge of treating and helping others medically in an emergency situations
  • Cooking- Living at the orphanage and then on her own Emma has taught herself how to cook and make any type of dish from just about anything
  • Shooting- Sam was big on guns and pushed Emma to learn how to shoot and handle a gun in case of a break in. Still a bit new to the idea Emma knows the basics and can hit a tin can from anywhere to 50 to 60 yards



Weaknesses :

  • Has type 2 diabetes- Since Emma was ten she has dealt with type 2 diabets which doctors say was because of her gentics of her family. She has control of her diet and sugar intake, but with the world gone to Hell she has been fighting to stay on top of her disorder
  • Scared of heights- Emma has always been afraid of being in hight places since she nearly fell off a building during a volunteer firefighter training exercise. She has never been higher the her three story apartment since and keeps to the streets when scavenging for food or supplies.

and is .
Special Gear :

Height : 5'3"
Weight / Body type : 130lbs skinny but in shape
Hair :honey blonde
Skin : a fair ivory
Eyes : almond brown
Distinguishing Features : A tatto on the inside of her left forearm that reads “Just breathe. Ten tiny breaths … Seize them. Feel them. Love them.”

Personality : Emma, or Ems as her husband would call her, has a sassy and spunky personality with a rebel heart. She is incredibly intelligent and is capable of resolving complicated situations with great cleverness and quick thinking. She use to be very open and friendly, often known as the social butterfly at work or in her neighborhood. She had a generous soul and would do anything to help people in trouble, with a sure confidence in herself and her abilities. She worked hard to achieve what she needs to do and to get the job done at St. Mills Hospital. Fun loving and always looking out for others, she was very happy and content with her life before the outbreak took her loving husband. Her pain was so deep and real she has built walls around her icy heart. She is snarky and sarcastic to others and is know to be bitchy. The beariers that she has built to protect herself from ever feeling pain are so high, yet she doesn’t even realize how much she has changed from her former self. The lost of Sam has rocked her to the core that she has retreated into a shell that she pertends that he is still alive at times to keep from breaking down when alone. She is mostly seen as an angry person, but she has sometimes let her sweet personality shine through when she is happy. She generally pushed other people away, rarely forming any close relationships with anyone, and is loyal to people she can trust.

Likes : Twinkies, beer, rock music, and saving lives
Dislikes : Walkers, Pushy people and Spam
Fears : Hights and feeling like she is the only one left alive with the Walkers


History : Emma was an orphan who was abandoned at a strip mall at the age of four. She never could remember much of her parents but knew she wasnt wanted by either of them or had any memory who there were or where they lived. She listened to her elders and didnt cause trouble for them as she grew into a older teen. She watched over the younger kids and usually would bandage them up after a scrape of some kind. She then knew she wanted to be in the medical field and had a mind set of education would get her further in life and prove to herself she was wroth something. She had a positive outlook on life and was well behaved while making good grades and friends in school. She was even given a full ride to a medical college where she excelled and became an ER nurse for her home town in California. She got a small apartment and met her husband Sam when he was admitted with a sliced hand from an accident during a fire rescue. It was love at first sight. Sam was shy and seemed to always fumble over his words when they first started dating but Emma would laugh and poke funny at him. "You can run into a burning building without a second thought, but saying I love you too me is hard?" Sam warmed up to her and they found they had a lot in common and were always happy with one another. He finally worked up to nerve to propose and they were married three months later. Never an argument between them, beside what to watch on tv or putting the seat down on the toilet,  they were living in a honeymoon bliss till the breakout started. Refusing to sit back, her husband went out to help his fellow firemen and police with the zombie attack. Picking up his fire gear he told her to stay put and that he would be back once it was safe to move them to a new location. Crying and demanding to come with him, he told her he wanted to make sure they had enough medicine for her to stay alive for as long as the attack went on. With one last hug and kiss good bye, she unwilling let him go.  Scared of every small noise and locked in her small one bedroom apartment, Emma stayed behind unsure what to do for two days. Crazy with worry she started grabbing anything to use as a weapon from their tiny apartment and set off to help her husband any way she could.

The city was horrific, bodies and derby, garbage and ruble tore across her once cozy street. She ran to the firehouse, that was only a few blocks from their apartment. While their truck was unable to maneuver through the blocked traffic and cracked roads, smoke and still burning fires helped hide her from any attacks as she made her way through the city. Once she found the firehouse, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Zombies, a dozen of them crowed the building and streets like busy ants. She hid and searched for a way in, hoping Sam was alright and safe inside the main building. Then a sight she would never forget cut her deep that she stumbled back from the shock, her Sam turned and feasting on a festering limb of a fallen firemen brother. The picture broken her as tears streamed down her face and she nearly walked to him, begging it to be just and very bad dream she would wake up from and find Sam nestled next to her. Angry with herself for waiting too long she pulled out his gun that Sam had left with her to protect herself. He wouldve hated what he had become, he would have wanted to be free of this. With dead eyes and shaky hands she aimed her husband’s M1911 at his head and fired. The shot would forever echo in her mind as she saw his body slump lifelessly to the ground and his blood mix with the ashes of the burning building behind him. Tears blurred her vision and her hands were still shaking with the recoil of the weapon as she stood at the top of the hill for all the zombies to see.

The noise exposed her and she welcomed the walkers to her body once she followed her husband to paradise. Holding the gun to her head with a weak hand, she looked up into the blazing blue sky and slowly closed her eyes to its beauty. As zombies started crawling up the pile of rock and cement, shots were fired and the dead bodies fell like flies as a group of gangster teenagers rained bullets on the helpless creatures who were scaling after her. The echo of gunfire made Emma drop her firearm as if it burned to touch it. She finally realized what she was about to do and broke down with relief. Oh god, what was she about to do? Ashamed for her actions she wiped her eyes and picked up the weapon that killed her beloved Sam. Once all the walkers were dead, she moved to her husbands lifeless body. Saying her long tearful good byes and pleading for forgiveness she removed his wedding band and thanked the the teens for their help. They seemed a bit weary of her as she explained her story and told them she was also a licensed nurse. They asked her to meet their leader, Clint, and join them seeing her as a great addition with her medical skills.


Sexuality : Heterosexual
Sexual On's and Offs : O/O's
Player : Chasseybaby


Kokaine

All I need Chassey, is exact quantities on her gear. How many energy bars and bottles of water does she have? Does she have ammo for the gun? If so, how much? How much insulin does she have? That sort of thing.
Current Craving/Looking For: Romance, Adventure, Action, Humor, and Erotica. (F/Any)

Current Post Rate: Moderate

Current Posts Owed: 1/8

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