Those Who Remain - RP OOC / signups (Signups now open!)
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I hope I'm doing this right. I believe I took way too much time on the backstory... even after spoilering half of it... 
Name: Raymond Walker
Age: 19
Appearance:
(Yes it was made with a character creator! I cannot draw, or find another image yet; pbft hfb fbth.)
Raymond stands at 5'9". He has an average, if somewhat skinny, composition. His hair is brown and unruly (often kept in place by a headband), his eyes are emerald green and piercing, and his brow firm but gentle.
Personality:
In a less broken world, it's likely that Raymond would be content to live and let live. He's not very outspoken, he's not very popular, and he's completely unconfrontational. Raymond is a good listener, very perceptive, and quick on the uptake. Seeing him quietly passing time in his own way, some might say that Raymond is just a thinker, a dreamer, maybe a philosopher. And they'd be right, to a point; Raymond isn't an activist, but neither is he a pacifist.
Even so, in opposition to his outwardly passive appearance, Raymond keeps very strong ideals to heart. These ideals give him motivation to live each day to its fullest... to share his experiences with those close to him... to keep moving forward, even in the pits of depression and despair... to never give in, even though the earth may crack, the sky may fall, and death come forward with all its atrocities...
Backstory: (see "Misc" for the current state of affairs)
Several weeks after his high school graduation, Raymond had succeeded in landing a well-paying job at a quiet cafe close to the Thames. For five months, he continued to live the quiet life he was now used to. Sometimes meeting his Uncle Percy in the mornings before work, Raymond would later go to the cafe for several hours and operate the register, restock the breads and cakes, and perform other duties required. So it was a complete and utter shock to him when a certain girl, a regular, after starting to walk out the door, instead turned back and said to Raymond, "I like your eyes. They... they seem to be very honest, and... or kind... or... and... and I--" At this, she blushed and hurried out the door. For the rest of that day, Raymond went back to this moment and wondered, could this be the beginning of something more?
The next day proved uneventful, and it was another two weeks before Raymond again met the girl from the cafe. But of all places, he met her in a kendo training dojo across the Thames, on the day adult signups had opened for the fall. It turned out that they each expressed an interest in both the practice and the ideals of kendo, as well as the push to meet new people and have new experiences. And so it was that Raymond Walker shook hands with Jordan Whitecliff, and this first encounter soon blossomed into something much more... Raymond and Jordan 'clicked' at the start. They often spent time together in the evenings and on weekends, such as the first time Jordan introduced Raymond to a Friday night party, or when Raymond brought Jordan to his favorite sunset-watching overlook... for more than a year, Raymond and Jordan grew closer together, and through each other's influence, had many wonderful new experiences and came to know more about each other and the people and world around them...
Stats:
Perception: 6
Strength: 3
Dexterity: 5
Health: 3
Constitution: 3
Starting weaponry:
- 1 katana (back sheath), salvaged from Raymond and Jordan's training dojo. Raymond's weapon of choice; somewhat effective against weaker hostiles
- 1 standard-issue army rifle, with 18 rounds remaining. After missing a target both times, Raymond decided it'd be better to keep this one for emergencies...
Starting equipment/resources:
- 1 backpack
----- Dried food, and a canteen; from the ruins of a corner store. Enough sustenance for several days if rationed well
----- 1 water-repellant light jacket; also from the corner store
----- 1 map of London and the surrounding (futuristic?) area
----- 1 highly-efficient solar-powered flashlight; a gift, salvaged from his home before the chaos
----- 3 medpaks; contain supplies for healing minor wounds (medium cuts, burns, setting bones etc.), salvaged from medical offices
- 1 belt pouch
----- 530 pounds; useless at the moment, but Raymond's keeping it on him just in case...
----- 1 medical officer's ID card; salvaged from the medical office, Raymond can use this card to gain access to most government buildings that remain in one piece
----- 1 curiously cut jasper necklace; a keepsake from his parents, and a secret to everybody but Jordan
Starting apparel:
Headband (forest green)
T-shirt (forest green)
Long-sleeved shirt (earth brown)
Half-gloves (forest green)
Long pants (black)
Athletic shoes (black)
Misc:
(A voice, panting faintly, comes over the public safety speakers in central London.*) "It's just past dusk... I've left the hostiles a kilometer or so away, trailing after a scrap of cloth, dipped in the blood of some unfortunate man I found on the way, that I threw down an alley... if there's any of those cursed zombies around left they might be able to hear me, but... I need to do this." (There is a pause, and faint rustling and snapping is heard.) "As I've said before, my name is Raymond Walker, and I'm saying this for the benefit of any who are left in the central area of London. You need to get out... the hostiles have overrun the government buildings, the corner stores, EVERYWHERE. Please: I haven't met with anyone since this tragedy began, but for the love of God, if you can hear me and you can run, walk or crawl to safety, take what you can and leave, at once; as for myself, I'm going to continue searching the wreckage, and I'll keep broadcasting from this... abandoned paramedic's post over the area until... until..." (The voice cracks, wavers, but returns with full force.) "... until I'm positive that... that no one is left in the city." (Another pause.) "... good night, London... good night, Jordan. May we meet in the morning." (An electric crackle, then silence.)
*[Can we assume future London has public safety speakers? I think so.]
Age: 19
Appearance:
Raymond stands at 5'9". He has an average, if somewhat skinny, composition. His hair is brown and unruly (often kept in place by a headband), his eyes are emerald green and piercing, and his brow firm but gentle.
Personality:
In a less broken world, it's likely that Raymond would be content to live and let live. He's not very outspoken, he's not very popular, and he's completely unconfrontational. Raymond is a good listener, very perceptive, and quick on the uptake. Seeing him quietly passing time in his own way, some might say that Raymond is just a thinker, a dreamer, maybe a philosopher. And they'd be right, to a point; Raymond isn't an activist, but neither is he a pacifist.
Even so, in opposition to his outwardly passive appearance, Raymond keeps very strong ideals to heart. These ideals give him motivation to live each day to its fullest... to share his experiences with those close to him... to keep moving forward, even in the pits of depression and despair... to never give in, even though the earth may crack, the sky may fall, and death come forward with all its atrocities...
Backstory: (see "Misc" for the current state of affairs)
Raymond's parents, who were scientists experimenting with new ways to adapt the body to environmental hazards, died while he was still in his fifth year of school, due to a "regrettable incident in the line of duty". The true cause of their death was never disclosed, and even this partial truth never told, to Raymond. After his parents' burial, he was then sent away by his parents' employer to live with his uncle, Sir Percival Walker II. "Uncle Percy", as he wished to be called by Raymond, was an... eccentric individual; additionally, he was always busy and never around to keep the boy company. Still, because he was a little odd, had a small title, and held shares in the company his late brother had been employed at, Percival had gathered an appreciable stock of gadgets, weapons, and other sorts of machinery. Of course, there were a butler and a maid, so Raymond never wanted for much in the way of material possessions. Still, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness each time he thought of the distance between himself, his parents, and the entire world.
And so for the next nine years of his life, Raymond moved forward. He read many books, he did well in his studies, he stayed in shape... in short, Raymond had an average life, albeit without the kind of interactions other children might have on a regular basis. For some reason, though, Raymond was... not avoided, not shunned, but he might as well have been an electrical outlet on the wall; nobody sought him out until it was necessary, no one spent time with him, but everybody knew he was there and yet passed him by. Raymond, then, spent more time with his books, immersed himself in his studies, but still was compelled to at least try to branch out, to reach out and connect with somebody around him. He started to look around for opportunities to meet new people. And then, gradually, the connection happened.
And so for the next nine years of his life, Raymond moved forward. He read many books, he did well in his studies, he stayed in shape... in short, Raymond had an average life, albeit without the kind of interactions other children might have on a regular basis. For some reason, though, Raymond was... not avoided, not shunned, but he might as well have been an electrical outlet on the wall; nobody sought him out until it was necessary, no one spent time with him, but everybody knew he was there and yet passed him by. Raymond, then, spent more time with his books, immersed himself in his studies, but still was compelled to at least try to branch out, to reach out and connect with somebody around him. He started to look around for opportunities to meet new people. And then, gradually, the connection happened.
The next day proved uneventful, and it was another two weeks before Raymond again met the girl from the cafe. But of all places, he met her in a kendo training dojo across the Thames, on the day adult signups had opened for the fall. It turned out that they each expressed an interest in both the practice and the ideals of kendo, as well as the push to meet new people and have new experiences. And so it was that Raymond Walker shook hands with Jordan Whitecliff, and this first encounter soon blossomed into something much more... Raymond and Jordan 'clicked' at the start. They often spent time together in the evenings and on weekends, such as the first time Jordan introduced Raymond to a Friday night party, or when Raymond brought Jordan to his favorite sunset-watching overlook... for more than a year, Raymond and Jordan grew closer together, and through each other's influence, had many wonderful new experiences and came to know more about each other and the people and world around them...
Stats:
Perception: 6
Strength: 3
Dexterity: 5
Health: 3
Constitution: 3
Starting weaponry:
- 1 katana (back sheath), salvaged from Raymond and Jordan's training dojo. Raymond's weapon of choice; somewhat effective against weaker hostiles
- 1 standard-issue army rifle, with 18 rounds remaining. After missing a target both times, Raymond decided it'd be better to keep this one for emergencies...
Starting equipment/resources:
- 1 backpack
----- Dried food, and a canteen; from the ruins of a corner store. Enough sustenance for several days if rationed well
----- 1 water-repellant light jacket; also from the corner store
----- 1 map of London and the surrounding (futuristic?) area
----- 1 highly-efficient solar-powered flashlight; a gift, salvaged from his home before the chaos
----- 3 medpaks; contain supplies for healing minor wounds (medium cuts, burns, setting bones etc.), salvaged from medical offices
- 1 belt pouch
----- 530 pounds; useless at the moment, but Raymond's keeping it on him just in case...
----- 1 medical officer's ID card; salvaged from the medical office, Raymond can use this card to gain access to most government buildings that remain in one piece
----- 1 curiously cut jasper necklace; a keepsake from his parents, and a secret to everybody but Jordan
Starting apparel:
Headband (forest green)
T-shirt (forest green)
Long-sleeved shirt (earth brown)
Half-gloves (forest green)
Long pants (black)
Athletic shoes (black)
Misc:
(A voice, panting faintly, comes over the public safety speakers in central London.*) "It's just past dusk... I've left the hostiles a kilometer or so away, trailing after a scrap of cloth, dipped in the blood of some unfortunate man I found on the way, that I threw down an alley... if there's any of those cursed zombies around left they might be able to hear me, but... I need to do this." (There is a pause, and faint rustling and snapping is heard.) "As I've said before, my name is Raymond Walker, and I'm saying this for the benefit of any who are left in the central area of London. You need to get out... the hostiles have overrun the government buildings, the corner stores, EVERYWHERE. Please: I haven't met with anyone since this tragedy began, but for the love of God, if you can hear me and you can run, walk or crawl to safety, take what you can and leave, at once; as for myself, I'm going to continue searching the wreckage, and I'll keep broadcasting from this... abandoned paramedic's post over the area until... until..." (The voice cracks, wavers, but returns with full force.) "... until I'm positive that... that no one is left in the city." (Another pause.) "... good night, London... good night, Jordan. May we meet in the morning." (An electric crackle, then silence.)
*[Can we assume future London has public safety speakers? I think so.]
Hey @the_j485. I'm done with my new char sheet. I've tasked Tord to make me a drawing, but he's not done yet. I'll send you the pic later.
Name: Kira Link
Age: 19
Appearance: http://imgur.com/gallery/V3cmw3w/new
Personality: Don’t fucking get in my way… and you won’t be hurt. Kira is a “play by her way or get the hell out” type of girl. She takes the lead whenever she can, and she can lead effectively. Her senses are acute and have good spatial awareness. She will take risks if she sees them as effective. She is extremely resourceful and can make anything she needs out of bits of wood and metal scraps. She gets back on her feet easily. She is very determined in completing the tasks on hand and will not be deterred by outside influence. [OOC] She also swears quite a bit. I will tone it down if necessary. [/OOC]
Backstory:
You gonna fork the money out or not? Bitch. Hailing from Greece, her adolescence hadn’t been… well, the best… Her parents were policemen, killed in the crossfire when a rebellion broke out in the region, from the economic recession. The place she lived wasn’t the safest place in the world, more of the opposite. The government was corrupt and malicious and the economy was starting to break down. She also wasn't the lucky ones and lived in a world of abundance. It was obvious why Kira couldn’t trust anyone. She was torn apart when her parents died, but also, at the same time, a new Kira was born. This new one was tougher, more resilient, moulded by the trauma of her parents’ death, and the hysteria and corruption of the government. She began to be more resourceful, better and more acute senses. She planned her every day, her every move, knowing they were critical to her survival. She knew she couldn’t stay around in this town for long: she would probably be sold off for prostitution. She had to go. Now.
The forests were a good spot to hide. Those idiots of a town won’t know I’m gone. It’s been a while since she’s been in the forests, and she would’ve probably been forgotten by the townspeople. By now, she would’ve travelled far enough to escape from the town, and could start life anew somewhere else.
No one would suspect anything. Just blend in. After hitching a ride, she ended up in London, where she hoped her new life would begin. Little did she know, it was going to be some tumultuous times…
Stats: (distribute 20 points here)
Perception: 6
Strength: 3
Dexterity: 4
Health: 3
Constitution: 4
Starting weaponry: A small knife, and a file. (Yup, no technological ranged weapons. I live life on the edge.)
Starting equipment/resources: some vines acting as a rope, scraps of metal, a random key, a small 4x4 inch square of cloth, a couple of small rocks as grindstones, and a wooden cup of sorts…
Starting apparel: An army T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and a pair of sneakers. All of them quite worn down.
Misc: A necklace, made of rose gold studded with some emeralds.
Age: 19
Appearance: http://imgur.com/gallery/V3cmw3w/new
Personality: Don’t fucking get in my way… and you won’t be hurt. Kira is a “play by her way or get the hell out” type of girl. She takes the lead whenever she can, and she can lead effectively. Her senses are acute and have good spatial awareness. She will take risks if she sees them as effective. She is extremely resourceful and can make anything she needs out of bits of wood and metal scraps. She gets back on her feet easily. She is very determined in completing the tasks on hand and will not be deterred by outside influence. [OOC] She also swears quite a bit. I will tone it down if necessary. [/OOC]
Backstory:
You gonna fork the money out or not? Bitch. Hailing from Greece, her adolescence hadn’t been… well, the best… Her parents were policemen, killed in the crossfire when a rebellion broke out in the region, from the economic recession. The place she lived wasn’t the safest place in the world, more of the opposite. The government was corrupt and malicious and the economy was starting to break down. She also wasn't the lucky ones and lived in a world of abundance. It was obvious why Kira couldn’t trust anyone. She was torn apart when her parents died, but also, at the same time, a new Kira was born. This new one was tougher, more resilient, moulded by the trauma of her parents’ death, and the hysteria and corruption of the government. She began to be more resourceful, better and more acute senses. She planned her every day, her every move, knowing they were critical to her survival. She knew she couldn’t stay around in this town for long: she would probably be sold off for prostitution. She had to go. Now.
The forests were a good spot to hide. Those idiots of a town won’t know I’m gone. It’s been a while since she’s been in the forests, and she would’ve probably been forgotten by the townspeople. By now, she would’ve travelled far enough to escape from the town, and could start life anew somewhere else.
No one would suspect anything. Just blend in. After hitching a ride, she ended up in London, where she hoped her new life would begin. Little did she know, it was going to be some tumultuous times…
Stats: (distribute 20 points here)
Perception: 6
Strength: 3
Dexterity: 4
Health: 3
Constitution: 4
Starting weaponry: A small knife, and a file. (Yup, no technological ranged weapons. I live life on the edge.
)Starting equipment/resources: some vines acting as a rope, scraps of metal, a random key, a small 4x4 inch square of cloth, a couple of small rocks as grindstones, and a wooden cup of sorts…
Starting apparel: An army T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and a pair of sneakers. All of them quite worn down.
Misc: A necklace, made of rose gold studded with some emeralds.
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One does not simply hitch a ride to England. The closest country likely to be corrupt was probably Italy.Hey @the_j485. I'm done with my new char sheet. I've tasked Tord to make me a drawing, but he's not done yet. I'll send you the pic later.
Name: Kira Link
Age: 19
Appearance: <commissioned Tord, now waiting on him>
Personality: Don’t fucking get in my way… and you won’t be hurt. Kira is a “play by her way or get the hell out” type of girl. She takes the lead whenever she can, and she can lead effectively. Her senses are acute and have good spatial awareness. She will take risks if she sees them as effective. She is extremely resourceful and can make anything she needs out of bits of wood and metal scraps. She gets back on her feet easily. She is very determined in completing the tasks on hand and will not be deterred by outside influence. [OOC] She also swears quite a bit. I will tone it down if necessary. [/OOC]
Backstory:
You gonna fork the money out or not? Bitch. Her adolescence hadn’t been… well, the best… Her parents were policemen, killed in the crossfire when a rebellion broke out in the region. The place she lived wasn’t the safest place in the world, more of the opposite. The government was corrupt and malicious and the economy was starting to break down. It was obvious why Kira couldn’t trust anyone. She was torn apart when her parents died, but also, at the same time, a new Kira was born. This new one was tougher, more resilient, moulded by the trauma of her parents’ death, and the hysteria and corruption of the government. She began to be more resourceful, better and more acute senses. She planned her every day, her every move, knowing they were critical to her survival. She knew she couldn’t stay around in this town for long: she would probably be sold off for prostitution. She had to go. Now.
The forests were a good spot to hide. Those idiots of a town won’t know I’m gone. It’s been a while since she’s been in the forests, and she would’ve probably been forgotten by the townspeople. By now, she would’ve travelled far enough to escape from the town, and could start life anew somewhere else.
No one would suspect anything. Just blend in. After hitching a ride, she ended up in London, where she hoped her new life would begin. Little did she know, it was going to be some tumultuous times…
Stats: (distribute 20 points here)
Perception: 6
Strength: 3
Dexterity: 4
Health: 3
Constitution: 4
Starting weaponry: A small knife, and a file. (Yup, no technological ranged weapons. I live life on the edge.
Starting equipment/resources: some vines acting as a rope, scraps of metal, a random key, a small 4x4 inch square of cloth, a couple of small rocks as grindstones, and a wooden cup of sorts…
Starting apparel: An army T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and a pair of sneakers. All of them quite worn down.
Misc: A necklace, made of rose gold studded with some emeralds.
Looks good, I had no idea Jordan was a girl's name though.I hope I'm doing this right. I believe I took way too much time on the backstory... even after spoilering half of it...
Name: Raymond Walker
Age: 19
Appearance:
(Yes it was made with a character creator! I cannot draw, or find another image yet; pbft hfb fbth.)
Raymond stands at 5'9". He has an average, if somewhat skinny, composition. His hair is brown and unruly (often kept in place by a headband), his eyes are emerald green and piercing, and his brow firm but gentle.
Personality:
In a less broken world, it's likely that Raymond would be content to live and let live. He's not very outspoken, he's not very popular, and he's completely unconfrontational. Raymond is a good listener, very perceptive, and quick on the uptake. Seeing him quietly passing time in his own way, some might say that Raymond is just a thinker, a dreamer, maybe a philosopher. And they'd be right, to a point; Raymond isn't an activist, but neither is he a pacifist.
Even so, in opposition to his outwardly passive appearance, Raymond keeps very strong ideals to heart. These ideals give him motivation to live each day to its fullest... to share his experiences with those close to him... to keep moving forward, even in the pits of depression and despair... to never give in, even though the earth may crack, the sky may fall, and death come forward with all its atrocities...
Backstory: (see "Misc" for the current state of affairs)
Several weeks after his high school graduation, Raymond had succeeded in landing a well-paying job at a quiet cafe close to the Thames. For five months, he continued to live the quiet life he was now used to. Sometimes meeting his Uncle Percy in the mornings before work, Raymond would later go to the cafe for several hours and operate the register, restock the breads and cakes, and perform other duties required. So it was a complete and utter shock to him when a certain girl, a regular, after starting to walk out the door, instead turned back and said to Raymond, "I like your eyes. They... they seem to be very honest, and... or kind... or... and... and I--" At this, she blushed and hurried out the door. For the rest of that day, Raymond went back to this moment and wondered, could this be the beginning of something more?Raymond's parents, who were scientists experimenting with new ways to adapt the body to environmental hazards, died while he was still in his fifth year of school, due to a "regrettable incident in the line of duty". The true cause of their death was never disclosed, and even this partial truth never told, to Raymond. After his parents' burial, he was then sent away by his parents' employer to live with his uncle, Sir Percival Walker II. "Uncle Percy", as he wished to be called by Raymond, was an... eccentric individual; additionally, he was always busy and never around to keep the boy company. Still, because he was a little odd, had a small title, and held shares in the company his late brother had been employed at, Percival had gathered an appreciable stock of gadgets, weapons, and other sorts of machinery. Of course, there were a butler and a maid, so Raymond never wanted for much in the way of material possessions. Still, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness each time he thought of the distance between himself, his parents, and the entire world.
And so for the next nine years of his life, Raymond moved forward. He read many books, he did well in his studies, he stayed in shape... in short, Raymond had an average life, albeit without the kind of interactions other children might have on a regular basis. For some reason, though, Raymond was... not avoided, not shunned, but he might as well have been an electrical outlet on the wall; nobody sought him out until it was necessary, no one spent time with him, but everybody knew he was there and yet passed him by. Raymond, then, spent more time with his books, immersed himself in his studies, but still was compelled to at least try to branch out, to reach out and connect with somebody around him. He started to look around for opportunities to meet new people. And then, gradually, the connection happened.
The next day proved uneventful, and it was another two weeks before Raymond again met the girl from the cafe. But of all places, he met her in a kendo training dojo across the Thames, on the day adult signups had opened for the fall. It turned out that they each expressed an interest in both the practice and the ideals of kendo, as well as the push to meet new people and have new experiences. And so it was that Raymond Walker shook hands with Jordan Whitecliff, and this first encounter soon blossomed into something much more... Raymond and Jordan 'clicked' at the start. They often spent time together in the evenings and on weekends, such as the first time Jordan introduced Raymond to a Friday night party, or when Raymond brought Jordan to his favorite sunset-watching overlook... for more than a year, Raymond and Jordan grew closer together, and through each other's influence, had many wonderful new experiences and came to know more about each other and the people and world around them...
Stats:
Perception: 6
Strength: 3
Dexterity: 5
Health: 3
Constitution: 3
Starting weaponry:
- 1 katana (back sheath), salvaged from Raymond and Jordan's training dojo. Raymond's weapon of choice; somewhat effective against weaker hostiles
- 1 standard-issue army rifle, with 18 rounds remaining. After missing a target both times, Raymond decided it'd be better to keep this one for emergencies...
Starting equipment/resources:
- 1 backpack
----- Dried food, and a canteen; from the ruins of a corner store. Enough sustenance for several days if rationed well
----- 1 water-repellant light jacket; also from the corner store
----- 1 map of London and the surrounding (futuristic?) area
----- 1 highly-efficient solar-powered flashlight; a gift, salvaged from his home before the chaos
----- 3 medpaks; contain supplies for healing minor wounds (medium cuts, burns, setting bones etc.), salvaged from medical offices
- 1 belt pouch
----- 530 pounds; useless at the moment, but Raymond's keeping it on him just in case...
----- 1 medical officer's ID card; salvaged from the medical office, Raymond can use this card to gain access to most government buildings that remain in one piece
----- 1 curiously cut jasper necklace; a keepsake from his parents, and a secret to everybody but Jordan
Starting apparel:
Headband (forest green)
T-shirt (forest green)
Long-sleeved shirt (earth brown)
Half-gloves (forest green)
Long pants (black)
Athletic shoes (black)
Misc:
(A voice, panting faintly, comes over the public safety speakers in central London.*) "It's just past dusk... I've left the hostiles a kilometer or so away, trailing after a scrap of cloth, dipped in the blood of some unfortunate man I found on the way, that I threw down an alley... if there's any of those cursed zombies around left they might be able to hear me, but... I need to do this." (There is a pause, and faint rustling and snapping is heard.) "As I've said before, my name is Raymond Walker, and I'm saying this for the benefit of any who are left in the central area of London. You need to get out... the hostiles have overrun the government buildings, the corner stores, EVERYWHERE. Please: I haven't met with anyone since this tragedy began, but for the love of God, if you can hear me and you can run, walk or crawl to safety, take what you can and leave, at once; as for myself, I'm going to continue searching the wreckage, and I'll keep broadcasting from this... abandoned paramedic's post over the area until... until..." (The voice cracks, wavers, but returns with full force.) "... until I'm positive that... that no one is left in the city." (Another pause.) "... good night, London... good night, Jordan. May we meet in the morning." (An electric crackle, then silence.)
*[Can we assume future London has public safety speakers? I think so.]
As RJS said, and also, the hell is with the laughing man?Name: Jakob Drago
Age: 22
Appearance:
Tall and lanky with black hair and silver eyes.
Personality:
He used to be a happy and generally normal guy, but now he is... empty. As he watched his parents die, along with them something died inside of him. He now ranges from extremely emotional, to empty of emotion. When he is clear of emotion, he does only what is needed to be done, disregarding others' feelings with a pure focus on survival. In order to maintain a normal level of emotion, he must use enormous levels of concentration while there are no disturbances. Sometimes, he will have violent outbursts, for example, beating a zombie while it is already dead. He is generally loyal, and while he usually feels no emotion, is actually a good guy. He only has one reason that he keeps on living. One day, maybe they could bring his parents back to life, and while, deep inside, he knows his hopes are practically impossible, it's the only thing that keeps him putting one foot in front of the other.
Backstory:
It was graduation day. He'd graduated in Artificial Intelligence with a first! They partied and partied... The next day his parents were driving him home. He was to stay at his parents' house until he had saved up enough for a house of his own. Suddenly, a man walked out into the road. They barely had time to react, slamming on the brakes. But it was too late. They ran out, his mum screaming, 'Oh my god,' over and over again. The body was fairly mangled... and then it turned its head. Turned its head and laughed.
As he laughed, more zombies, that's what they must be, climbed out into the road. They piled on to his parents, and he ran, ran like his life depended on it, which it did. He couldn't tear his eyes away from his parents, being eaten alive. And so he bumped into a man. But no... it was a vampire. He was lucky that they were driving over a bridge at the time, so as the vampire went to bite him, he pushed it over the edge. But behind the vampire were zombies, too many of them. A single man in military uniform saved him, with a rifle and a knife. But the last zombie bit him, and with one look, Jakob's saviour was dead, shot by himself. Jakob took the rifle and the knife. He needed to top up on pills though. He had 3 weeks left until the inanimate objects started talking. Now he has 2:00:00:00.
Tick... Tick...
Stats: (distribute 20 points here)
Perception: 6
Strength: 3
Dexterity: 6
Health: 3
Constitution: 2
Starting weaponry:
A rifle with 20 rounds, and a knife made for hand - to - hand combat.
Starting equipment/resources:
Two weeks of pills.
An empty beer bottle.
Starting apparel: (no armour more than maybe a bulletproof vest, but that's an unlikely find)
A T-Shirt.
A coat.
A pair of jeans.
Underwear.
Trainers.
Misc: I'd just like to say I started getting more and more tired as I wrote this, so that should explain the quality.
She was travelling for quite a while, it doesn't mean she was hitched at her hometown. And I've specifically said that she was far, far away for she was hitched.
Let's see which country is currently is some economic recession... Um... Greece would do.
Alright. Either use a character creator now to get a temp. picture, or go ahead and wait until he's done to be accepted.
I've edited my spoiler again. Note that this is a failsafe for Tord. If he doesn't give it to me on time, or I just don't like it, it will be a fallback. It is the closest I can replicate with a character generator on the Internet.
Oh, and she would have scars on her every so often.
Oh, and she would have scars on her every so often.
One thing that does confuse me - what does he need the pills for? Inanimate objects talking? Seems like a pretty major aspect of the character to skip over
1. Have you guys read the rat man comics?
2. Hez a zambie.
Actually, yes it can be. It seems be somewhat more common in England than other places though. I could switch the name out for something more feminine if you'd prefer; her name doesn't have any real meaning behind it.
Almost done with my sheet... Five paragraphs of backstory may have been a bit too much now that I think about it.
Name: Mason Lockhart
Age: 29
Appearance:
Personality: Professionally, he's borders a meticulous perfection. Socially, however, he remains careless, always distant. Inspired by the juvenile thought-process that made him never found any sense to any social norms, he used to live his day-to-day life in his own quiet way. Mason was never the one to aspire luxury - living most of his childhood in poverty might've helped. He has always aimed solely on improving skills, never status, only when it came as a sub-product of the former. Earning an essentially effortless amount of money, never voluntarily looking for change. His life was simple, and somewhat satisfactory. Being aware, however, of the fact that his life was forever to be meaningless - even if contradicting his principles - was slightly worrying, in a way.
It wasn't within more than hours after the gates appeared: Mason changed. An animalistic will fulfilled his being, he got slightly more negligent, however, the thrill for survival, watching out for every corner, the chance to make his life just scarcely more fun was enough to keep him alive, keeping him willing to take down anyone who stands in his way - or willing to accept the fact that he'll probably die trying. His common sense wasn't completely obligated, however. Yet. As of the present day, he's aware of the need to remain in darkness, of the need to hide. He's not a one man army, and he's well aware of that. However, let the opportunity rise, and so will he.
Backstory:
"What a beautiful day, don't you think?", Mason watched the older kid on the street through the window of his apartment, kicking a dog, laughing. "Joy from pain". Living in a circle of generally outgoing, extroverted, mainly ignorant people means that being different stands out by either meaning you're possessed, or sick. Mason's parents decided for the latter. Not laughing, barely speaking, never playing, Mason always was "the antisocial one", as a kid. Living in a family with just barely enough money to buy something to eat every night, he never found reason to interact -- something needed to change, and perhaps the still juvenile, imaginative mind thought that with enough willpower that would be possible, as a surprise to many: Mason managed to find a way. His father, Jacob Lockhart, was an amateur boxer for quite a few years, meaning the already scarce furniture they owned was split between either the usual - couch, closets, beds - or training equipment, treadmills, sandbags, barbells, weights, and such, which when bought by a fair price was cheaper than going to a gym. Using the what he could, casually with the help of his father, proud by his son demonstrating interest in his career choice, Mason grew stronger, faster and more resilient. Always aiming towards the bigger picture.
Skip forwards a couple of years, Mason is now eighteen -- his father passed away six months back, out of a pulmonary edema caused by a heart failure. Now, Mason is pressured into finding a job, maybe proving the skills he acquired were to become useful, after all. Three months of search, nonstop, and nothing. The market was basically dead, with the bigger corporations constantly buying smaller ones, until no competition is left. Technology is ever-growingly taking human employees' place, the economy is basically brain-dead. It wasn't after two more months that an opportunity showed up: A security guard, at a hotel called "Realgar Royal". The payment was reasonable, work-hours weren't ridiculously high, it wouldn't necessarily be a difficult job, and most importantly: it was the only choice he had. He accepted.
"The Ripper", .33, quite the gun. At the time, of course. Still, the need to use it - or, hold it - daily, made Mason spent a fraction of his paycheck on access to a training ground near the block, going there every opportunity he could, for years to come, in fact. He grew to complete all the challenged imposed by the owner, and after incessant training, he become easily the best gunman on the block, then the town, perhaps someday the country. He got to use to other guns, he got to shoot different targets, he developed enough experience to last him a lifetime. And that's really all that mattered to him.
Skip forwards again. Mason is now 29 years old. He climbed his way on the security hierarchy of "Realgar Hotel" - which came to be one of the country's most well-known hotels - and now, he's now Director of Security, highest rank on the Security Department, usually managing the staff while patrolling. As to be expected, the income grew, enabling Mason to buy himself an apartment nearer to the training grounds and consequently, his job. Everything was working out surprisingly well, until -- well, until the gates first appeared.
Chaos speared supernaturally fast, the creatures now roaming freely on the streets, the horror on every scream, the blood and ripped pieces of organs painting the walls of nearby buildings: Humanity was crawling into a ball, the military was trying, but there was just too many. "What a wonderful day for the apocalypse". Blame his position, but Mason didn't fear. At least not as much as expected out of anyone "sane". The survival instinct kicked in much, much faster. He gathered every gun or knife he could carry, together with a backpack he filled with everything useful he could think of: First aid-kits, water, food, ammunition, walk-talkies, and a few other miscellaneous items, like clothes, rope and such. The standardized buildings aided an escape through the roofs to a less hazardous location. While on the roofs, however, a weird sensation slowly started flowing through his veins, a dangerous sensation: He was feeling alive. All the suffering was null, he didn't care for the sake of others, not anymore. The thrill for survival. What an animalistic feeling: primitive, almost. While still drowned in adrenaline, a grown grasped his attention: A zombie managed to find his way onto the roof.
With nothing but a few shoots, Mason walked by the corpse, preparing to jump onto to another roof:
"What a beautiful day, don't you think?"
Stats:
Starting weaponry:
Age: 29
Appearance:
Personality: Professionally, he's borders a meticulous perfection. Socially, however, he remains careless, always distant. Inspired by the juvenile thought-process that made him never found any sense to any social norms, he used to live his day-to-day life in his own quiet way. Mason was never the one to aspire luxury - living most of his childhood in poverty might've helped. He has always aimed solely on improving skills, never status, only when it came as a sub-product of the former. Earning an essentially effortless amount of money, never voluntarily looking for change. His life was simple, and somewhat satisfactory. Being aware, however, of the fact that his life was forever to be meaningless - even if contradicting his principles - was slightly worrying, in a way.
It wasn't within more than hours after the gates appeared: Mason changed. An animalistic will fulfilled his being, he got slightly more negligent, however, the thrill for survival, watching out for every corner, the chance to make his life just scarcely more fun was enough to keep him alive, keeping him willing to take down anyone who stands in his way - or willing to accept the fact that he'll probably die trying. His common sense wasn't completely obligated, however. Yet. As of the present day, he's aware of the need to remain in darkness, of the need to hide. He's not a one man army, and he's well aware of that. However, let the opportunity rise, and so will he.
Backstory:
"What a beautiful day, don't you think?", Mason watched the older kid on the street through the window of his apartment, kicking a dog, laughing. "Joy from pain". Living in a circle of generally outgoing, extroverted, mainly ignorant people means that being different stands out by either meaning you're possessed, or sick. Mason's parents decided for the latter. Not laughing, barely speaking, never playing, Mason always was "the antisocial one", as a kid. Living in a family with just barely enough money to buy something to eat every night, he never found reason to interact -- something needed to change, and perhaps the still juvenile, imaginative mind thought that with enough willpower that would be possible, as a surprise to many: Mason managed to find a way. His father, Jacob Lockhart, was an amateur boxer for quite a few years, meaning the already scarce furniture they owned was split between either the usual - couch, closets, beds - or training equipment, treadmills, sandbags, barbells, weights, and such, which when bought by a fair price was cheaper than going to a gym. Using the what he could, casually with the help of his father, proud by his son demonstrating interest in his career choice, Mason grew stronger, faster and more resilient. Always aiming towards the bigger picture.
Skip forwards a couple of years, Mason is now eighteen -- his father passed away six months back, out of a pulmonary edema caused by a heart failure. Now, Mason is pressured into finding a job, maybe proving the skills he acquired were to become useful, after all. Three months of search, nonstop, and nothing. The market was basically dead, with the bigger corporations constantly buying smaller ones, until no competition is left. Technology is ever-growingly taking human employees' place, the economy is basically brain-dead. It wasn't after two more months that an opportunity showed up: A security guard, at a hotel called "Realgar Royal". The payment was reasonable, work-hours weren't ridiculously high, it wouldn't necessarily be a difficult job, and most importantly: it was the only choice he had. He accepted.
"The Ripper", .33, quite the gun. At the time, of course. Still, the need to use it - or, hold it - daily, made Mason spent a fraction of his paycheck on access to a training ground near the block, going there every opportunity he could, for years to come, in fact. He grew to complete all the challenged imposed by the owner, and after incessant training, he become easily the best gunman on the block, then the town, perhaps someday the country. He got to use to other guns, he got to shoot different targets, he developed enough experience to last him a lifetime. And that's really all that mattered to him.
Skip forwards again. Mason is now 29 years old. He climbed his way on the security hierarchy of "Realgar Hotel" - which came to be one of the country's most well-known hotels - and now, he's now Director of Security, highest rank on the Security Department, usually managing the staff while patrolling. As to be expected, the income grew, enabling Mason to buy himself an apartment nearer to the training grounds and consequently, his job. Everything was working out surprisingly well, until -- well, until the gates first appeared.
Chaos speared supernaturally fast, the creatures now roaming freely on the streets, the horror on every scream, the blood and ripped pieces of organs painting the walls of nearby buildings: Humanity was crawling into a ball, the military was trying, but there was just too many. "What a wonderful day for the apocalypse". Blame his position, but Mason didn't fear. At least not as much as expected out of anyone "sane". The survival instinct kicked in much, much faster. He gathered every gun or knife he could carry, together with a backpack he filled with everything useful he could think of: First aid-kits, water, food, ammunition, walk-talkies, and a few other miscellaneous items, like clothes, rope and such. The standardized buildings aided an escape through the roofs to a less hazardous location. While on the roofs, however, a weird sensation slowly started flowing through his veins, a dangerous sensation: He was feeling alive. All the suffering was null, he didn't care for the sake of others, not anymore. The thrill for survival. What an animalistic feeling: primitive, almost. While still drowned in adrenaline, a grown grasped his attention: A zombie managed to find his way onto the roof.
With nothing but a few shoots, Mason walked by the corpse, preparing to jump onto to another roof:
"What a beautiful day, don't you think?"
Stats:
- Perception: 4
- Strength: 3
- Dexterity: 7
- Health: 3
- Constitution: 3
Starting weaponry:
- 1x "Pistol "The Ripper .33", v4.1" + "Suppressor".
- 1x "Bowie Knife".
- 1x "Camping Backpack".
- 1x "Ammunition Cache "The Ripper"".
- 6x "1m of Rope".
- 1x "Duct tape".
- 4x "Can of Dried Food".
- 1x "Solar Powered Flash Light" (Acquired from corpse).
- 1x "First-Aid Kit ". (Refilled Recently).
- 1x "Canister of Super Glue". (Half-Filled).
- Clothes in "Appearance" picture.
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