Name: Tay Aahil

Aliases: Tack (Preferred over Tay)

Gender: Male

Nationality: Iraqi-American

Age: 20

Appearance: About 6’3”, and has a slim build with lanky limbs, a tanned, olive complexion, blue eyes, and messy black hair. Wears a brown beanie and patched grey overalls with the straps down over a white shirt. Usually holds something between his teeth, like a tack or a nail.

Faction: Sanctuary

Section: Craftsman

Weapons: Utility hammer and three shanks made of wood.

Skills: Bilingual (Arabic and English,) can sew, tailor and repair everyday items, and can pick locks.

Equipment/Items: Pockets full of tacks, needles and spools of thread, a screw-driver, a roll of bandages, a pair of scissors, and a lighter with extra lighter fluid.

Backstory/Personality: He’s resourceful and kind, with a large, accepting heart, but quiet, clumsy and shy, and he usually avoids talking if he can help it. He was born in Baghdad and his parents moved to America when he was a child, trying to get away from the virus, but he still remembers the neighborhood where he grew up vividly. After a long series of unfortunate events Tack wound up an orphan and stumbled upon Sanctuary by accident a few years ago.

Name: James Stormburg III

Aliases: Storm

Gender: Masculine pronouns.

Nationality: Native American (Sioux), Scot-Irish

Age: 19

Appearance: James is 6"5 and has an averagely muscled body. He weighs about 140 lbs. He has long-ish, dark brown hair that goes down to his shoulders. He has quite broad shoulders. His cheekbones aren't really high, a bit closer to the bottom of his head than the top. His cheekbones are also a bit sunken in. His chin is an inch and 1/10th of an inch down from the edge of his bottom lip, and is somewhat forward.

His face seems rather serious almost always, despite the fact that he jokes around quite a bit (although not overly much). His eyes are a dark brown. Despite his serious look, his eyes have a strange, nearly frightening calmness to them that seems to never leave them. His nose points quite upwards. He also attempts to shave when he can, so he has not much facial hair. His voice is very low, even though he is only 19. He also has a noticeable Southern accent, as he is from Texas.

He wears dark red jeans, and brown shoes. On his leg is an old leather holster, holding his great-great-grandfather's .1911 pistol from WW2. This pistol recently had a silencer added onto it, and it also has a custom paintjob of dark red skulls on the grip of it. He wears a black leather jacket most of the time, but when it gets cold he puts on his old black trenchcoat for more warmth. Under these coats, he wears a rather old shirt colored black with the design of a dragon on it. He wears brown leather gloves, and has a bayonet from the SIG .22LR he had strapped to his left arm. He carries a small brown backpack on his back, holding his supplies. He also wears a WW2 helmet passed down to him from his great-great-Grandfather, with a flashlight strapped onto it pointing forward. He also wears a jagged piece of dark grey cloth around his face to keep his face warm.

Faction: No faction, he's a loner.

Section: None, he wanders the wasteland (although he'll probably find the Sanctuary sooner or later).

Weapons: His main weapon is his WW2 .1911, modified to have a custom grip and silencer. The grip has dark red skulls on it on a black background. When he runs out of ammo, he uses his old bayonet for his SIG .22LR (which he lost whilst running from a group of undead), which is usually strapped onto his left arm. He wields it so if he makes a fist towards someone with the knife/bayonet in hand, the knife's blade points down. This lets him slash and stab at the same time, and is compatible with normal punching techniques.

Skills: He is skilled at stealth, as that is how he's survived on his own. He also definitely knows how to shoot a gun, preferring a silenced pistol over bigger guns such as a shotgun. His stealth prowess is due to studying works such as Sun Tzu's "Art of War" during his later childhood. He's rather intelligent, basically, but not overly intelligent. His time surviving alone in the wasteland has given him good skills at survival, so he knows how to make things from fire to a makeshift bow and arrow, although he's still not exactly the best at surviving.

Equipment/Items: His clothing, his weapons, a few ammo boxes for his .1911, a medium amount of a variety of foods, and some water and soda.

Backstory/Personality: James, whilst seeming like a pretty much perfect person, has quite a few flaws. He is bad at remembering names for some people but good at remembering names for others. His cold, serious exterior drives most people off unless he actually talks to them himself. He overthinks simple things sometimes, causing him to fail. He is rather indecisive, sometimes even nearly breaking down when forced to pick between two very important choices. He also has... strange moments. Carried down from his father, he has strange moments where he just twitches for a couple seconds, nothing else, although these moments became less and less common as he aged. He is also rather forgetful for some things but remembers other things perfectly.

James comes from a quite wealthy background, and was born into the apocalypse on February 10th, 2013, the same year it had began. His family had successfully barricaded off their family mansion, which was out in the middle of nowhere, turning it into a somewhat large mansion-fortress. At the age of one year, his father began teaching him skills such as reading, drawing, walking, ect., while his mother continued to do what she did best: cook, clean, make sure everyone is happy including herself, and everything related. By the age of three, James was reading basic books, mainly ones that his father had as a child, mainly Dr. Seuss books. The poetic manner that the books he read were wrote in gave James a boost in skill when it comes to poetry.

Around the age of 6, his father began teaching him skills such as marksmanship, survival, and stealth. As there was nothing to do most of the time, James would just run around, practicing his stealth. He'd usually sneak up on people and jump at them, usually scaring the victim quite a bit. He also began reading larger books, and he began writing stories of his own. He also became quite skilled at art for a person of his age at the time.

When James reached the age of 9, his father taught James how to knife fight. James was taught some martial arts, alongside how to operate things such as motorcycles and bicycles. Around this time, bad things had started to happen, and the fortress turned into a fortress with a small garrison of about 10 people, not including the servants of the family that had continue staying at the house in order to not get eaten by zombies. James, his father, and a few male servants also began working on turning the rather large basement into a bunker, moving a mass amount of the food, water, ammo, ect., into the bunker/basement.

At the age of 15, things began to really go down. The older family members were dying and near-breaks of the defenses became more and more common. Food and water supplies had begun to run down, and even bandits and raiders began to attempt to take over the house. The bunker was only halfway done and couldn't be used, alongside all those horrible things. Plus, if they used the bunker, they'd just starve to death in there.

At the age of 18, things finally got too bad for the house to even be habitable. All of the family was starting to die of age, sickness, famine, and all sorts of bad things. His family covered James' escape as they were too old to be useful to anyone, and James packed up all of his gear. He ran from the house, killing a few of the zombies with his SIG .22LR. Later that week, he encountered a large horde, and lost his SIG .22LR whilst escaping from the horde. Now, he just wanders the wasteland, killing unsuspecting zombies and scavenging.