The OOC for the Roleplay Survival Instincts.
"When the world you know falls apart around you, the things you do to survive sometimes becomes....instinct."
Be respectful to your fellow Roleplayer's but more importantly have fun.
- No godmodding other players characters
- Keep it realistic, we are all humans here so try to act like it
- In game relationships are allowed and welcomed, it almost always adds to story, just keep it to Guild rules or take it to PMs if you want.
- Try to do at least a paragraph a post, but I am not unreasonable, if you don't have a lot to work with then I understand a short post just don't make a habit out of it.
- Try to be active on the RP like a post a day, if you are going to be gone for a while give a heads up about it.
- Be respectful to your GM, Co-GMs and fellow players.
- Try to use good grammar and such, I understand a few mistakes here and there, I probably have a few here and there as well, just make sure it is readable.
- Try to give others a chance to post as well.
- Try not to contradict each other.
Appearance: (A description or picture of your character)
Skills: (A list of skills your character has)
Name: Deven Malante
Appearance: Deven is of Caucasian decent, he has medium length messy brown hair that comes down just above his eyes half over his ears and a little longer in the back. He has dark blue eyes and a muscular build. Deven stands at around 6' 1'' in height and he
(So essentially same as the picture except for Deven has shorter hair.)
(This is the gear Deven is wearing)
Personality: Deven is a lone wolf and rather a isolationist when you first meet him. But if you manage to get to know him you will see he is loyal, kind, compassionate, respectful but distrustful. It is very hard for Deven to trust people after everything he has been through, but if you get him to trust you then he fight tooth and nail to protect you. He would go to any lengths to protect the people close to him, no matter the danger or harm to himself. He often struggles with himself on morals, part of him wants to help others as much as possible, but part of him, the part that this world has created, would do anything to survive. Deven has often struggled emotionally and not to mention morally but he doesn't let the people around him know he is troubled, he feels it is his own problems and he should deal with them himself and not bother the others no matter how unhealthy that is. But he is completely willing to help others in any emotional matters that they may have.
- Skilled in hand-to-hand
- skilled with melee weapons
- survival skills
- a backpacking style backpack
- a combat tomahawk
- a tactical shovel
- a sleeping bag
- two canteens
- a flashlight
- several MREs
- flint and steel
- sharpening stone
- 2 extra pairs of clothes
- a map
- a colt M1911
Background: Deven grew up in Lakeside, Montana. His entire childhood he was a active kid, enjoying the outside as much as possible. When he hit high school he went camping and backpacking with friends multiple times. He stayed very active taking up the hobby of free running. Deven was eighteen when this all started, he had just gone of to college. He was not very affected by the infected at first but he was affected by the people. A lot of the people he knew were all anti government "they are coming to get us logic", he even knew some mountain people, a term used for those that lived in the mountains of Montana and were completely self sufficient, they lived off the land and rarely interacted with society, they were mostly all recluses and hate any form of government. So when this all started it seemed like this was a relatively smart place to be. The low population called for a low amount of infected. Only the towns were affected by the infected. But so long as you avoided the cities you would be fine. But then people began to turn on each other that was when things went south. Deven's younger sister came down sick and Deven's family was low on medicine so Deven went off to visit a friend of the family who was a doctor. There Deven hoped to get the medicine h his sister needed. Deven arrived at the doctors house only to find him dead, the doctor had put a bullet in his own head. This was the first time Deven had seen a man kill himself, he had seen the infected before, even killed a few of them in the woods, but it didn't feel wrong to kill them, it was kill or be killed for them. But this, this was a normal healthy human being who could not handle the emotional trauma that came with this new world. Deven gathered what supplies he could from the doctors house, food, water, ammo, medicine anything that could possibly be of value.
Deven then returned to his home, with a heavy heart but he was only greeted with more pain when he arrived. He arrived at his home to find the place torn to shreds, furniture was overturned, and things were missing. But that was not the worst of it, Deven went up stairs to see his mother and his sister, laying dead and defiled. His father was tied in the corner and had a knife wound in his stomach. Deven rushed forward towards his father, dropping his newly gathered supplies on the ground. His father told Deven everything, a group of men broke into their home they captured them and gathered all the supplies they had and then had their way with his mother and sister. Then when they were done they killed them and they stabbed his father and left him to bleed out. When his father finished the retelling of the story and had stopped himself from crying he pulled Deven close and said, "Deven...you have to live on for your family...you have to leave this place...you have to live on for us. They opened and looted the shed but they didn't find the basement there. Go there get what you need and leave. There is nothing left here. Your mother and I are so proud of you. Just get me one gun with one clip. Now go, I will be along soon.". With that Deven was off to the shed, in there he found an array of gear, it was there that Deven got his first weapons. he gathered everything he could carry and returned to his dad. He gave his father the pistol and grabbed his backpacking back pack and set off. He left the house and began walking, when Deven was far enough away he heard one loud shot ring out from his home. This emotionally broke Deven, but he continued on.
Eventually Deven encountered a group of people that took Deven into their fold. Deven still had much hope in humanity, but after what happened he was much more standoffish. With time Deven began to grow closer and closer to this group. He opened up to a few of the members and they showed their sympathy but all they could really do was supply their sympathy there was nothing they could truly say to make things right. What was done was done. Deven traveled with this group for more then half a year, they became his family. As time passed the group grew relaxed. The infected grew in numbers rapidly but they had a base out in the woods secluded from the world. They grew soft in their thought of safety and one night when they were fast asleep the infected found them. A roaming horde stumbled across their camp. They had already broken through the defenses when the group woke up. They tried to fight but they were out numbered and it was too late. Deven watched as the majority of his group was torn to shreds and eaten by the infected. He and four others managed to escape. They fled with whatever they could carry. The small group of five became nomadic and traveled far in wide taking what supplies they needed to survive. Their life was not a good one but it was a life all the more, they would spend the day traveling when they could best see the infected and the nights sleeping in whatever thrown together shelter they could make. Eventually they stumbled across a group of 6 soldiers. They took them in and gave them food and shelter and offered them salvation. The small band was hopeful maybe they had found something they could work with. But then as night came their luck changed. It all started with a scream, Deven awoke from his sleep to see one of his companions stabbed through the chest by a machete. The source of the scream was a girl he had been traveling her name was Sharlene. The man holding the machete was one of the soldiers that had found them, the other soldiers stood with their weapons in hand. Devem and the rest of his group scrambled to defend themselves. The soldiers now out numbered them by two men. Deven's group fought hard, they managed to kill four of the soldiers but at that point the soldiers had killed everyone but Deven. The two remaining soldiers circled Deven, bloodied and angry. In a burst of rage adrenaline and by the grace of luck Deven managed to kill one and seriously wound the other. Deven stood over the wounded soldier holding one of the other soldiers bloodied combat Tomahawks and questioned the man as to why he did what he did. The man answered this, "You think there was actually some sort of salvation? Ehh kid? No, the world is fucked. The government is destroyed and the military scattered. Its survival of the fittest now boy. And your friends were just not fit enough. Welcome to the new world." This saying changed something in Deven. And after he drove the Tomahawk into the mans skull he collapsed onto the ground and wept. He had lost his family and his friends, everything he held close to him was torn to shreds around him and now he was alone, all alone in this world that drove soldiers, people devoted to defending those that couldn't defend themselves, to becoming simple bandits.
From this point on Deven survived on his own finding it difficult to trust anyone else he came across. He would help who he could when he could but he did not trust them for one second. As the years passed Deven grew accustomed to the solitary life. He moved from place to place staying for never more then a week in one place before he moved to the next area. Those soldiers were not the last men he was forced to kill. He is passed the point of feeling sick when he kills a man. He does not enjoy it but he will do anything he needs to protect himself. Deven collected all of his current gear over time, by scavenging what he could where he could. Deven has made his way all across the western coast and now nine years since the start of all of this Deven finds himself in Colorado, working his way east.
Name: Summer Cullen
-She stands at a 5ft8 with dirty blond hairs and a tanned skin due to her outdoor life, she is surprisingly muscular as well although far from a bodybuilder shape. Significant features would also include a generally smiling face and two bullet wounds, one on her left shoulder and one on her right chest. While she does comb her hair and shave when she feels dandy enough for it, she's generally at the natural, never using makeup.
Loner to the heart, she was thought in the hard way that when you have something people may want, supplies or simply a vagina, you should be very careful around people and generally not expose weakness to them. She doesn't shot on sight by no means, after all she also knows that people can benefit when they both have something the other wants and can trade for it however. Otherwise she is an optimist and in general somewhat of a redneck with conservative views on things. She is also quite prideful and has a very hard time to take orders, being it from legitimate authority or from people outgunning her.
-Shooting in general
-Courage (Maybe too much of it)
-North & South: Named since their parents came from Dakota, these two horses provide transportation for Summer and her things, respectively. They are Appaloosan, black and white leopard coat.
-Nighty Night: German Shepherd named after its tendency to skulk at night, he is the justification of why Summer doesn't fear having to sleep. Quite intelligent, he knows to be quite and to, rather than bark, nudge and lick Summer to awake her when he sense something is close. He likes sleeping in a backpack on a horse during the day although occasionally run as to maintain his form.
-Smith & Wesson Model 27 Revolver
-Winchester Model 70 Scoped Rifle
-Flint & Steel
-Substantial Supplies (Food & Medical Equipment, some soap & T.P. and other amenities)
-Scavenge (Multiple items and loot with no use to her but that she keeps on South to trade away when she encounters humans willing to trade.)
Born as from a rancher's family in Wyoming, they were actually quite well off due to her father's idea of perpetuating the old herding tradition in the open while selling the meat as 'Biologically grown in the open' in California, making it more 'Hipster friendly' than the poor beasts living and dying indoor without ever moving. Nobody quite really understood why people would pay more for this but it worked. Soon enough however, her mother died giving birth to her little sister. It was when she was 17 that the outbreak began but it always seemed so far away from them, except money became barter but still, they managed to be almost as well off for years, they and the Richardson family who had an orchard close managed to do quite well bartering their products away to the nearby town. It was 2 years ago that everything seemed to hit them.
The first to go was her older brother who fell of his horse and got assaulted by a group of infected walking back home with a broken leg. When the small pack came to Summer's home they were easily dispatched but she had to be the one to kill what used to be her older brother, she didn't take it quite well. After that, it was during the winter that her father that caught a cold and died. When spring came, the ranch staff was now undermanned and Summer hired some help, mainly people willing to do anything in exchange for a meal. It worked well for a while despite some rough interactions and multiple unwanted advances, but eventually, she was awaken by her little sister's scream and when she grabbed her pistol and got to the barn, she saw her 'helpers' raping her sister. She didn't even say anything, her hand 'Guided by God' as she says it, draw her revolver and shot each and everyone of them dead.
The town the hands were from didn't take it very well even after she told them what had happened, the Richardson especially who's one of their son had been in the rapist group. At this point her little sister was almost unresponsive by the trauma and Summer essentially worked 16h a day with her weapon always close to keep things running, although now keeping contact with outsiders to a minimum. In the middle of the Summer, her sister shot herself. It was at the beginning of winter that a group representing the town came to her and asked to help them, they wouldn't survive the winter without the meat she could provide. At the beginning she refused to just give it away and asked for some kind of compensation, one that didn't involve them working for her as they all knew how it ended last time. They didn't have anything to offer and went back. A week later, a group of armed men came to her ranch during the night and she was awaken by the cows screaming. She did the first thing that crossed her mind: Took her pistol and her rifle, aimed it down her window and shot at the intruders. They began to siege her and while they tried to talk to her, she didn't say anything and just shot at them. An hour later, they torched her home with a molotov. She took what she had close to her and used the confusion of them trying to move cows used to move freely in the wild to go to the stables and grab her two best horses. Nighty Night followed her. As she was leaving, despite one saying to let her leave, they took pot shots at her.
She managed to survive and has lived a nomadic life style ever since, dodging encounters, sometimes killing packs of undead (especially runners, she hates those) and trading what she found along the way.
Name: (Doctor) Erika Sutherland
Long blond, almost platinum hairs still kept in a seemingly pre-outbreak fashion completed with a now worn out scientist's lab coat, she stands at 5ft5 and her weight is visibly low as some effects of starvation become visible on her. Although she tends to be more caring of her appearance than most the people out there, she still isn't the most attractive female around due to her general lack of curves (she really hates women flaunting what she does not have).
Sarcastic, cynical and most of the time fatalistic about how pointless it all is and how its only human biology, that of a caveman bent on survival, that would make her and anybody else continue to fight against the faith of the world, which is its ultimate meaningless death. Otherwise, she is an intellectual to the core and finds extreme enjoyment in talking to the last remaining people on this earth that have some form of culture, anyone capable of talking of literature, especially Lovecraft or Poe as well as New England Authors, automatically significantly rise in her personal opinion. Although she is a scientist by studies, this subject, although it can lead to her immediate interest, generally ends with her being dark and gloomy about how 'It doesn't matter anymore', especially if the subject is zombie biology. Is a huge coward.
-Infection Expertise: Erika can generally tell about if a person is infected simply by looking at them or their wound, her expertise also allow her to judge when amputation can save a person and what can temporarily delay the effects of the virus (Although she has no clue on how to fully stop it). She also has great insight in infected behavior and type, able to predict their pattern as well as the most seasoned Z-hunter.
-Surgery: Although she herself was more of a coroner in her job, operating on the dead, she is much more competent than any average person to perform surgery.
-Pharmacist: Erika knows what to administrate to whom and also what can serve as a potential replacement, medicine of all kind administered by her will be used in the minimal amount for the maximum effectiveness.
-USAMRIID Strategic Knowledge: Before she left her bunker, Erika had the time to gather significant information about the world's state of affairs and knows where the infection is the thickest and where military bases may be located. Her knowledge however is several months old and hasn't been updated for some times, it may not be 100% accurate.
-General Level Clearance: Before she left the bunker, she took some things with her, one of those being General Carter's IDs, which allow her access to most electronically locked doors in military facilities, she also uses this as well as her own IDs to tag along the military when possible, which may not be always.
-9mm Pistol (6 bullets)
Born in New England from 2 doctors working in Fort Detrick for the United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases, it was all natural for her to pursuit studies in the same field which she did. She was still in university when the outbreak began, but it seemed so far. Her parents however used all of their contact to make their daughter, a straight A+ student, have a 'stage' in the army. At first she hated it, military life in a bunker in the central states, why would her parents hate her so much? It didn't take long until she realized how they had saved her life as the situation began to degenerate everywhere. Erika was safe in a bunker unknown by the population and working to find a cure.
At first no one had a doubt they'd soon find a vaccine for this rage epidemic within weeks and maybe a cure within months. Weeks became months and then became years. The scientists had no idea what to do, this virus seemed to defy understanding and each thing they tried always failed. They were in luck however, for a time. The general commanding the base was a well educated virologist who had complete understanding of the situation and so gave them all the resources they needed and administrated the base with scientific concerns in mind. During this time, the scientists of the base, as teachers to their trainee, furthered her education and eventually after she worked late nights to advance the cause, gave her a doctorate. The general had served as a university professor and he decided that as education got, surely he had the authority to validate a doctoral thesis.
It was soon after however that the other part of the bunker life came back at them. The bunker was divided in two, the scientists working the lab with classical music and having a movie night every Sunday, and the soldiers. They had to go outside, risk their lives to gather supplies to feed not only themselves but also scientists who they felt were more and more useless after they told it would be over in mere months. Eventually there was a mutiny and the general as well as many scientists were killed. Erika (as well as any and all of the younger female staff), was kept alive. The new rules were simple: You'd have to do your share. This meant either go outside or do something people would deem useful. Erika and the other girls knew exactly what this meant. The men had to choice but to go outside, most of them didn't survive long, they had no training or experience and the soldiers took their sweet time to help them, sometimes they took too much time. Erika had to prostitute herself, the idea of going outside horrifying her too much, she didn't want to die.
Eventually however, she had enough, she didn't care anymore. It had been so simple, take a drop of infected blood, spike a drink with it and wait for the night. As the barracks were overrun, she took all she could and left outside. When people came running to the elevator going to the upper levels, she closed the doors, laughing at them as they couldn't reach her in time. Nothing however could have prepared her to what was outside. What now? She didn't know. Avoid populous area, survive. Colorado was one of the emptiest state of the US, so this was as good as any place, but survive how? She has no expertise in hunting or scavenging...
Name: Tony Hart
His hair is black, and his eyes are a pale green.
Tony is a very accurate shooter, this is because of his military training. He knows how to work most guns, and knows some survival skills. Hart knows a little bit about first-aid, just basic stuff. Tony also knows how to fight well in close range, he wouldn't be able to take out Bruce Lee in a fight though, not even close.
Tony uses a katana with a white and gold colored hilt to keep the undead at bay. He also fights with an Easton baseball bat and a Glock 18 with a silencer. Hart carries an athletic bag around his shoulders, where he has a spare change of clothes, and some survival gear. Tony made a pocket out of an old hoodie pocket. He stitched up one side of the hoodie pocket, then attached it to his belt. The pocket serves as an extra ammunition storage for his pistol.
Background: Tony Hart had a very normal life, even a little bit bland. Tony grew up with his father his whole live, since his mother died when he was eight. He was in school when it happened, and had no idea until he stepped through the doorway to his house. She had dies in a car accident, she was driving normal, a tad bit slow for my taste, when out of no where a drunk driver T-Boned her side of the car. The car was slammed off the road, then it rolled down the hill that was on it's right. The actual car accident didn't kill his mother, she died by hitting her head as the car was rolling down the hill. Tony was devastated, but as time went on, he accepted the fact that he would never see her in this lifetime.
Tony was actually quite popular growing up in high school. This was only because he was the starting running back of his high school football team. He was offered a full scholarship to Alabama State University if he played on the football team, Crimson Tide. Hart would have taken the offer, but he wanted to be in the Army like his father.
Tony was 19 when the shit hit the fan, and had to get used to fighting and surviving at that young of an age. His father died from lung cancer on his 20th birthday. Tony no longer celebrates his birthdays anymore because of that. He found it so unfair, the zombies have risen and his father died from freaking lung cancer!
Hart joined the Army as soon as he turned 18. He had just gotten back from his station in Afghanistan to see his world fall apart.
Kavali stands at a short height of around 5 feet, 2 inches. This relatively short size combined with her overall appearance portrays her to be younger than her actual age. While not exactly muscular, Kavali has very good endurance, being able to make the long hull much easier than lifting weights. Her stance and how she carries herself obviously portrays some sort of gun/military discipline by nature. She keeps her hair short for practical reasons, as seen in the picture.
Kavali isn't what one would call a "Lone Wolf" mainly because she doesn't care whether she's in a group or on her own, just simply whatever suits her at the time. This is because she is a very practical, straightforward, "No bullshit" type of girl. She can be sarcastic, witty, and raw towards people she doesn't like, but remain friendly, honest, and open towards people who are nice to her. Being a skeptic of sorts, Kavali doesn't normally buy into something or charge head first into a matter. Planning and strategy has always been her strong suit, and what has kept her alive to this day. Though when it comes down to survival, she can be very cold and calculative, and show surprisingly little remorse in killing, despite her normally friendly cool attitude.
A Jack of All Trades type of person when it comes to combat, being relatively good with most common weapons of any kind, but not particularly specializing in one. Giving her flexibility, but limiting her on another level
One AR-15 with simply iron sights and collapsible stock. She also ducktaped a flashlight to it.
Two 5 inch utility fixed blades
One M9 Pistol
A fork and spoon
One medium sized backpack
One Camel Back water bladder, half full
2 Cans of Beans
1 Can of Sardines
1 Mountain Dew (Saving it for something special)
One small bag of Jerky
"What is my place? What am I to do in this world? A question now more persistent in my head than ever...."
The world was hell before the infections started for her... She was illegally adopted at age two when her biological parents gave up saying parenting was "too hard" for them. She was essentially sold into slavery over Yahoo to a new "family". This family abused her in all the ways, mentally, sexually, and physically. One day, in the dirty trailer park they held her in, Kavali..... couldn't take it anymore. Something screamed inside of her to fight back, but that voice was always shoved back by the abuse, until it finally broke through it all. On her tenth birthday, Kavali's older "brother" attempted to have his way with her. Grabbing a kitchen knife, she stabbed him in the chest, feeling an explainable sensation that was neither good nor bad. Her father, hearing the commotion, broke into her room, thinking he might join in on the fun like usual, but was soon stabbed in the chest as well. Both her adopted father and brother laid in her room dead, herself covered in their blood, with a small smile one her face. One police investigation later placed her with a foster family service, but nobody wanted to take her in, despite psychologists stating that she was, in reality, sane. For almost a year, she sat in an orpanage, waiting for someone to take her in, when one day a man who seemed to be in his late fifties came in, offering to be her father.
At first, of course, she was reluctant and, frankly, scared of this new figure, but thankfully this did not last long. Kavali saw this was a very different home, one she could call home. He taught her many things as she grew up, ranging from hunting, fishing, shooting, and how a friendly face can go a long way. He showed her that there was a nicer side of life, that didn't always have to be a dark-side. After a few years of homeschooling, she went to public schools for the first time, making friends quickly and likewise with enemies. Though this short spell of happiness would quickly and dramatically come to a close.
When the infections started to hit the town she lived in, everything seemed to fall apart for. Most of her school friends ended up becoming infected, or even worse, betrayed her for their own survival. Eventually she made it back to her father's house to find him getting ready to leave. For the next few years, as society collapsed around them, Kavali and her father traveled from safe zone to safe zone until they became more and more isolationist. At that point, they began to roam, trying to find a safer place to rest and settle, but this would not be when the old man died of a heart attack in his sleep. Now it's just Kavali wandering the new landscape, trying to figure out her goal in this strange world.
Joshua goes by Josh most of the time, though there's no one to actually say, 'Hey Josh!'...
He's male, of course.
I'll keep this fairly brief.
Joshua is a fairly quiet man who takes what he wants when he wants, and usually before anyone can notice. He tries to avoid any large encounters, and only takes out zombies when they're in his way, or if they're in a spot where they could hear him moving. To other people, he's seemingly cold and gruff, ignoring other survivors and moving along his way. Sometimes he'd trade something for stuff like bandages and arrows, but other then that he tries to keep to himself. Two's a party, of course, but anymore then that is just a group looking for trouble. Sure, sometimes he travels with another person, but just to the next town, and usually only if that person is extremely skilled or useful. He doesn't care for annoying and overly-dramatic children, and dislikes loud, cheerful people. Not that he's emo, but seriously...it could get annoying at times.
Standing at a relatively tall height of 6'3, Joshua is in very good shape despite the odds stacked against him. His brown hair sweeps past his forehead, tamed despite being in the wild world, and his eyes are very angry and calculating. He has a scruffy-looking beard that scratches at his cheek some-times, but Joshua doesn't trust himself with a knife to his face. Emotions are a bitch.
* - Joshua is very agile and strong despite his rather...slender appearance. He has a great amount of stamina, and often free-runs when he's either running from the Infected, or searching for places to loot.
* - His skill with a bow is incredibly good, though he's only average with guns.
* - Sneaking around comes easy to him, due to his life as a hunter.
* - Very fast reaction speeds.
* - Isn't afraid to take human lives.
* - Survival Instincts.
A bow made from extremely durable and flexible mahogany. He's had it for a while now, and used to use it when he went hunting. Before the world came to shit. He has a few dozen bullhead arrows stuffed into his back-pack, easily accessible. A machete is strapped to his back, underneath the backpack, and he has a holstered 9mm tied to his pants leg. It only has a few bullets in the clip. As for inside of the small pack, there's only a few ration bars and a canteen of water. Nothing that could make a lot of sound, thankfully. A small medic box filled with hand-soap, some sort of mosquito spray, and a Zippo lighter with the engraved markings, 'I.E'. He found it on some dead guy, and naturally, he took it without a second thought.
Originally, Joshua Anderson was born to a 'country bumpkin' family down in Houston, Texas. They lived in a nice little valley, with plenty o' woods, wild-life, and a general nature atmosphere. He had no brothers or sisters, and both his father and mother was alive. His father, however, was very ill at the age of 49. His mother was 52, and she had cramps and spasms really bad, causing her to stay in bed most of the time.
His father, seeing that Joshua was their only hope for food, supplies, and general cleaning, decided to teach him a few things here and there. At the young age of 7, Joshua learned about hunting, gathering, tracking, and general survival techniques. Every day his father would take him out on the porch and say, 'See here sonny, this is how ye do 'dis", and stuff like, "String the bow calmly and carefully. Don't cut ye finger,".
By the age of 10, Joshua could kill a dear, in a tree, without making a single sound.
He provided for his family, going out in the truck to pick up medicine for dad and mom, and to buy different materials to fix the house up with. He was always a quiet boy, and did what he was told without question or second thoughts. He cooked the meat, fixed the windows, wiped the floor, and washed the toilet. All without a fuss. His education didn't drop, however. His mother taught him in her old text-books she kept from, like, 100 hundred years ago. His grandfather was rather smart as well, teaching him Math, English skills, and other things he needed for life. Everything was good. Until they died.
He was around 20 at a time. Joshua was dragging a large 200 pounder; a gigantic buck, to put in the surplus room. Once he entered the home, deer slung over one shoulder and bow gripped in the other, he only heard silence. He screamed "Hello?!" loudly...well, as loud as he could, before dropping the bleeding animal and rushing up the stairs.
They were dead. Hand in hand.
Long story short? He buried them in the most respectful place he could find; the beautiful waterfall clearing his father married his mother in. After that, continued living in his home, hunting for food and creating clothing out of the hide and leather. Yet...somehow, they found him. He fled north, and wandered through ruined, destroyed cities, scavenging and looting what he could, and fighting any zombies that he couldn't sneak by or avoid. He traveled by car, by truck, by bike, and even by boat (it was an odd experience). And now, wandering the plains up North, he plans to take what he can. Then...he'll be gone.
At least...he hopes...
Name: Orren Lafrie
Personality: He's kind of an asshole until you get past his abrasive outer shell. And even then, he remains distanced and disconnected. He's afraid to get too close to people, because he's grown too used to everyone he knows being taken away from him. He's got a bad habit of using his temper to push people away, and to convince himself and others that he doesn't care about other people. Unfortunately for him, the exact opposite is true. Underneath the charade, there's a softer side to him. This is shown most clearly by the devotion he puts into taking care of Dylan. Beneath his shouting and bitching, he's as good of a friend a guy could have.
Equipment: Orren carries a beat up rucksack that has canned food they managed to scavenge, one half used roll of gauze, a jar of God knows how old moonshine that he found in the barn (used strictly to clean wounds), a small pocket knife that's more of a tool than a weapon, and a little ham radio that hasn't worked since he found it.
As for weapons, he has a machete. He once came across a handgun, but found that the loud noise it made, plus the need for bullets, was more trouble than it was worth.
Appearance: Orren's a bit of a shorty, only standing at 5'5". He has black hair that contrasts with his pale complexion. His eyes are grey-blue. Orren's build could be described as willowy; he was never very muscular. Even after months of fighting zombies, he still lacks any noticeable muscle build. He was also cursed with an eternal babyface. He could go for weeks without shaving and only have a little bit of stubble.
His use of profanity is like a colorful art, a woven tapestry of slurs and an swears that could cover the whole continent.
Other than that, he doesn't really stand out too much. He's gotten fairly good with his machete, but he's no Rambo.
Orren grew up in a broken home with parents that clearly hated each other. They were always piss poor and the tension between his parents was thick enough to cut. Finally, when Orren was 10, his parents got divorce. His mother got first custody of him, only to lose him months later for child abuse charges. Orren was then packed up and sent to live with his dad.
Orren's dad wasn't a bad man. He did everything he could to make sure Orren had what he needed. However, after years of failure with his job and with life in general, he became something of an alcoholic. Orren tended to end up taking care of him instead of the other way around. However, Orren loved him all the same. When the first of the zombies came and invaded their house, Orren's dad was passed out on the couch as usual. Orren tried desperately to wake him up, but there was no hope. He was forced to leave him father, his home, and everything he ever knew.
Not long after going on the road, all by himself with hardly any supplies, he was attacked by a bat wielding maniac. As it turned out, that maniac would later become his best friend.
Name: Dylan House
Personality: Dylan has always been a tad bit eccentric. At first glance, he's a friendly, idiotic, and totally harmless. But those who know him more personally know much better. Dylan is a paranoid schizophrenic. He can become violent and dangerous at the blink of an eye. Most of the time, his violence towards others is due to hallucinations or delusions. If that's the case, then talking sense into him is usually hopeless. He used to take medication for his condition, but since the end of the world began, he's run out.
Since meeting Orren, he's managed to calm down a bit. Having someone else to endure the apocalypse with him has really taken the edge off his mind.
Equipment: Dylan also carries a backpack, but with less important stuff in it. Orren won't trust him with the valuables. His has spare clothes and a couple blankets and towels in it.
His weapon of choice is a metal baseball bat. It's gotten pretty beat up over the years.
Appearance: Dylan is tall and lanky, standing at 6'3". His general appearance is that of a hard core crackhead, with slightly better dental hygiene. His hair is a dark brown, curly mess. Keeping it combed is a lost cause, as he often doesn't do so himself. Dylan's eyes are dark brown and sport dark colored circles under them from lack of sleep. Even when Orren offers to stay up and keep watch, Dylan rarely sleeps. His clothes are usually disheveled and dirty, as he could care less about keeping them clean.
Dylan grew up in the lap of luxury. His parents owned House Coffee company and made more money every hour than most make in a month. However, as they say, money can't buy happiness. Dylan's parents were never around when he needed them. Instead, he was raised by house maids. Dylan's mental condition went unchecked for years until he finally lashed out and attacked one of their ground keepers. Luckily, Dylan's parents were wealthy enough to get him out of trouble.
Dylan was given medication to keep him under control, but his parents still couldn't give him the time of day. Eventually, he moved out and never looked back. Dylan found a job as a stock clerk for a grocery store. He never really gained any friends at his job because he had a tendency to make other, normal people nervous. He was happy to live in a piece of shit apartment and scrape by each month. When the virus broke out, he had no problem leaving his home and going on the road. One might think it was just a little too easy for him. Dylan found that the civilized world didn't have much use for people like him, but when all chaos breaks loose, it's the crazies that come out on top.