Full Name :
Francis Vincent McCoy (adopted and given name, never used after he left home)Nicknames / Aliases :
Aleki "Scar" LagaAge :
MaleMarital Status :
SingleFormer Occupation/Position :
Drug Cook, Drug Runner, Security, Bodyguard(criminal element), machete fighter(In Haiti).Strengths :
Physically fit/Experienced fighter and killer/Quick to learn(not all brawn)/Knows how to drive/steal anything with wheels on it/Never went a day before the incident without a knife on him, he knows how to use them VERY well/Knows he is not a leader and follows the strongest in groups to keep them alive(He realizes who should stay alive)Weaknesses :
Very quick to anger/Often enjoys killing zombies rather than running from them/Large body that makes him hard to hide/No belief system or end game goal(lives too much in the moment and doesn't think ahead)Special Gear :
Large custom made blade(looks like a machete and an African kukri blade mixed into one) that is around 13 inches long and heavier than normal, around ten pounds.
A fully automatic/single fire .40 Glock with three 33 round magazines.
A custom Harley-Davidson based on the 2009 Sportster Iron 883. Height :
6'8"Weight / Body type :
285 pounds, looks like he has been doing nothing but kickboxing his whole life, strong top to bottom.Hair :
Black, Long in a braid most of the time down his back. Skin :
From Samoan background so he does have a slight darker skin tone, but paler now from not being outside much. He could easily pass for European currently if not for his dark hair. If he is out during the day he is covered in his leather riding gear and flying down the roads on his bike.Eyes :
GreenDistinguishing Features :
Wears a very large goatee down from his chin in a thick braid as well. Has a scar on his left eye socket, traces the line of the bone. (Gained before the incident for reasons he doesn't talk about)Personality :
Francis might be the brute of his Samoan background, but he is very quick to learn things. Something would never assume by looking at him. He was simple in the way he though, rational, and to the point at that moment. Threats must be taken care of, people must be controlled if out of control, and zombies must be killed....period. There was no other way that Francis thinks about things. He is HIGHLY observant, and tends to pick up on twitches and ticks(micro expressions)people use when they speak, giving away lies and intentions. He was very quick to anger when questioned about his actions, or the actions he feels are right. He will defend who ever he trusts or believes should live with his own life if need be. Fiercely loyal but hard to become loyal. Likes :
Cigarettes, a good fight, his personal blade(aka hammer), over 100 cubic inches under him of engine, watching others.Dislikes :
Useless people, zombies, idiots, unskilled people(if you don't contribute fuck off).Fears :
Not being able to protect what needs to be protected, dying on his back in a bed.History :
Francis was a mistake after a mistake from the beginning. Left on a church doorstep, adopted by parents from another country, and taken from sun and sand to deep woods to clouds. Francis was raised in a home with very hard Catholic parents who couldn't birth a child naturally. So they adopted him and beat the hell out of him until at age twelve his actual background started to come into play. He shot up in height to 6'2" by 15 he and gain a good hundred pounds. Then he was beating his adopted father nearly to death every day he could. The man spent more time in the church than he did at home after that. His mother was no saint, she knew he would beat her like her husband, and often threw glass bottles and pans at Francis when he caught his father at home. Obviously by 16 he left his home, his father shot in the head and his mother hung from the second floor window. It took him a while, hiding in dumpsters, moving from the crap little home in the hills they had towards some form of a city. He lived in a gutter for the next few weeks. The police and anyone else who cared for those cruel religious nuts put his face on blast. Though as chance would have it he ended up outside a bar searching for food, his clothes covered in filth and his body weak from lack of food, when a group of men at the bar decided to leave. Finding him in the pit of where their bikes were parked and a good $200 of their money getting shoved in his pockets, they didn't hesitate and grabbed him knocking him out cold after a few of them worked on his ribs first.
It had always been like that for him, his parents beat him from day one, and once on his own, he was picked up by a biker gang and beaten for a week straight. After he didn't die the man who was using him for....initiations of the new recruits, offered him a job. He had gone from on the run for murder to an isolated warehouse/clubhouse that the Mongols based. Francis didn't even seek revenge on the man, or any of the men, instead from age 16 to 25 he ran with the group, and became a very well known SGT at arms with the Mongols. That was after he turned 18 and he had changed drastically in both his appearance in attitude. He gain another six inches in height and muscle seemed to form on his body easily. Genetics was an amazing thing. So by the time he really was allowed to go on runs with the group, he had turned into a massive monster of a man, breaking three hundred pounds of muscle. By the time his named was carried to Washington to Arizona, the new kid who was raised to beat men to death, he looked nothing like the lean body who left home, or the scrawny, starving kid who they caught stealing years ago. He was now a force to be reckoned with and sure as hell wouldn't be remembered as Francis Vincent McCoy. Instead he changed his name to something more to his liking as well as what he knew was Samoan, Aleki Laga(a-lee-kee La-ga). Though the name carried over the characters was what everyone came to call him, Scar (for the large scar over his left eye). In all honesty Aleki knew he was on his way to that life, this way he just was protected while he got better at it.
He was sent from the U.S. at age 26 when he killed a rival drug leader for his own, and had to leave the country for a few years till they stopped looking for him. He landed in Haiti and was given a home and a job to protect the drugs moving through there. The cocaine from Columbia was reason enough for his presence while he couldn't be on the west coast. Though as with all things, Aleki got bored, figured out how to work metal and forged himself one hell of a machete, so he thought. He was not always good on the first try, and this was no different. He has pounded the center of the blade too much and given the machete far to much steel in the ingot he used. It looked like a cross between the machete he wanted and some strange "kukri" he was told. It was much much heavier than standard machetes(5 pounds) and had a heavy hand that was from the same piece that was used to make the blade. He was smart enough to know that one piece was stronger than two put together. He used it to kill fifteen men in a thing the Haitians called machete fighting. In all honestly it was just a gloried boxing match with machetes instead of fists as the weapons. If you won, you lived, if you loss, well you rarely lived.
After four years there, Francis was ordered back and to Central California where he helped as both a body guard and a cook. Although once the incident hit, their customers coming around wailing and snarling, they thought they had given a bad batch. Really they just didn't watch the news enough...or at all. So his entire charter was killed, his boss and himself escaped, after Aleki carried him six miles,due to a nasty bite to his ankle, and stole a car. A few days later Aleki realized what it was, just after he cut his former boss', brother's, father's, whatever you wanted to call him, head off. It was really happening, the zombie apocalypse was here. Just when things had finally calmed down for him. Sexuality :
Leather, boots, redheads, and knives.Sexual Off's:
Heavy women, drunks, and romancePlayer :