69

Name: Holly "Piper" Brown

Age: 26

Height: 5'6

Weight: 130 lbs

Equipment:
- clear, thick, button up, hooded long rain poncho
- 2 lighters
- 1 flask (contains water)
- 2 water bottles (reusable 20 oz) with water
- pocketknife
- half pack of camel crush kept in poncho pocket

Weapons:
- baseball bat (aluminum)
- pocketknife (Same as listed above)
- Smith & Wesson M&P9 (50 rounds)

Previous Occupation:
Public Relations specialist

Appearance:


Piper has dark brown hair with brown eyes, a fair skin tone and somewhat athletic build. She tends to wear jeans and jean shorts with racer back tank tops. She she has an oversized brown leather jacket that she carries with her constantly and wears when cold. She wears work boots and therefore tall socks. No noteable scars or birthmarks. No tattoos, she has three piercings on her earlobes.

Bio: Piper was an outspoken child who was not afraid to let her mother know that "The name 'Holly' is stupid". So, through her elementary, middle and most of her high school years. By her senior year, she decided it was simpler and more mature to go by her first name, and she continued this in college but those close to her still referred to her as "Piper". She was working in a Starbucks in Denton, TX while attending school at UNT (University of North Texas). 

On a particularly chilly Wednesday in December, a group of soldiers approached the counter for some warm drinks on their way to home. They were on leave for the holidays and one of them had family in Denton who was letting all three of them stay. They were a friendly group and though she was much more reserved now, she took a cue from her younger and more outspoken personality and wrote her number on one of their cups. It was in this rather unromantic way that she met Connor Brown.

She and Connor talked with each other nearly every night on the phone and soon enough he was taking leave to see her and visiting her on extended weekends. Soon after, they met each other's parents and both sides of the family got along well. Piper graduated with a bachelor's in Communications and (with her connections) quickly landed a job in Houston. She worked up the ranks with ease and was an established Public Relations Manager.

Piper was offered a job in Raleigh, North  Carolina; which was not far from Ft. Bragg where Connor was stationed. The two were engaged not long after she decided to take the position and after they married she moved into base housing and the two lived together as the happy newlyweds they were. That is, until Connor was deployed. It was his first deployment and he was unlucky enough to be sent to Afghanistan. He was to return home in two weeks when two soldiers in uniform appeared at her door. One was James who had been deployed with Connor and the other was someone she'd never seen before. It took a moment for her to process what was happening but the realization hit her like a train. Every part of her suddenly pulsed with pain, it felt as if all of her ribs had broken and it hurt to breathe. She was a screaming, sobbing ghost of the young woman she had been just moments ago. She'd gone from newlywed to widow in what felt like a matter of seconds and she still could hardly breathe, she was crying too hard. 

He came home in a casket and every part of her quivered as they handed her a perfectly folded flag. She framed the flag. She moved. She got a cat; it was aloof but loving. Much like her new home, she was functioning and well-structured but empty on the inside. James visited her often to check in on her. She had no family near her and no close friends to speak of in the area.

When the end began, James was still back home and was nearly finished with his service. It was James who got her on base almost instantly and ensured that she was cared for. He was kept on base as men were put out to defend the public. Men who would continue to fail. Eventually, they didn't have enough forced to make everyone stay or defend their country and they left. It was James who got Piper safely to the group in Kansas and is now parting ways with her. He supports her leave for Kansas in the safety of the departing group and with the gun he gave her.

She wishes to go to Canada to have a chance at a normal or at least stable life. She hates all the running and fighting and the sound walkers make when defeated and the smell of their skin. Of course she would want to be in a community free from them. She wasn't made for this.

---

Sorry for the wait. I was packing for my trip to NC in the morning.

Accepted! ^__^

Yay! :D

Can't believe what I just did. I was 90% done with my character and when I was trying to open a new tab on my browser to search for something I accidentally closed this page and lost everything I just wrote. Now I gotta redo my character all over again. Aaaargh! I feel like kicking myself! :(

But I won't rewrite my character now. I'm too pissed off. I'll start working again later. I just wanted to let you know that it's gonna take a little longer for me to post my character, but i'm still here.

OMG! BLAH! I hate it when that happens. I once wrote a seven paragraph ube descriptive post for this really advanced onexone roleplay once and I went to click the post button and oops, ower goes out!
(insert darth vader voice)
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

That stuff happens to me all the time -_-

The Horror, Oh the Humanity!

Been there done that but try it with a collage paper that you've pour heart an soul into

Pfew! Finally done! :)

69

Name: Paul Wilson

Age: 26

Height: 6'(1.83m)

Weight: 178 lbs(80 kg)

Equipment:
- A 4 quart water canteen(worn diagonally from shoulder to hip);
- A pair of Vortex Crossfire10x42 binoculars together w/ rain guard, soft carry case, neck strap and lens covers(worn on the neck);
- Several cans of food(in backpack);
- A pack of beef berky(in backpack);
- A non-working flashlight that needs batteries(in backpack);
- A Benchmade folding knife(used only for utility purposes, carried in a backpack pocket);
- An extra pair of socks and an extra t-shirt(in backpack);
- A blanket(in backpack);
- A large road and topographical map of the United States(folded in a pocket of his backpack);
- A watch with paracord bracelet(worn on left hand. The watchband is made of 14 feet of paracord);

Weapons:
- Kimber Custom II 1911 .45 ACP handgun;
- 1x 50 round .45 ACP FMJ ammo box;
- 2x 8 round 1911 magazines(he used to have 5 but he lost the other 3);
- Marlin 1895 SBL .45-70 Gov't lever action rifle customised with a 6 round leather shell holder and an Aimpoint Micro red dot sight;
- 2x 20 round boxes of .45-70 Gov't ammo;
- Gerber Gator Kukri.

Previous Occupation: Mechanic at a car customs shop.

Appearance:


Bio: Born in New Orleans, Louisiana, Paul's life before the outbreak was anything but perfect. His father was a convict, imprisoned for life because of a double murder and his mother was a hooker that never gave a damn about him anyway. He grew up in an orphanage with no friends and taken care of by strangers. He was 9 years old when he was finally adopted but he was a shy kid that didn't talk much. Even at school, all he was doing was sitting in his bench and not talking with anyone. Because of that he was often made fun of and called "weirdo". At the age of 14 he became fascinated by guns after his father took him to a shooting range. After that particular event, Paul finally opened up and became more comunicative. His father taught him how to use guns and he even made some friends in school. He also started spending time with his father in the garage as he was working on his car and was teaching Paul about cars and how they work.

For his 18th birthday, Paul's parents got him a car. A red with white stripes 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS convertible. Paul then went to college and after finishing it he briefly worked at a McDonald's and as a courier before beying hired at a car customs shop. Despite having no experience with cars, except for the moments spent with his father in the garage when he was younger, the owner of the shop was impressed by Paul's passion for cars and his determination so he decided to give him a chance, which he did not regret as Paul proved to be a fast learning and reliable person. Paul also became very good friends with the owner of the car shop, especially because of their common passion for guns and cars. Now that he was producing his own money Paul decided to move away from his parent's house and rented a place in which he was living on his own. He also started a relationship with a girl named Jennifer, much younger then him that had an asthma issue. Her mother Sarah didn't approve of their relationship at all and didn't like Paul. He just didn't look right in her vision. He was much older then her daughter, he had tattoos, long hair, a goatee. But after seeing how happy and satisfied her daughter was she decided to give him a chance but kept a close eye on him.

When all hell broke loose Paul, his girlfriend Jennifer and her mother Sarah did their best to escape the city. It took them a while to do that but they managed to get out of New Orleans safe. They hooked up with a group of retreating soldiers from the Louisiana National Guard. As they all travelled up north. One year later they cross the border in Kansas from Oklahoma as Paul, together with Jennifer and her mother were alone again as the other members from the group died in the hands of bandits. A couple of weeks later Paul heard some gun shots as well as some screams and decided to track them down as he stumbled upon another group fighting some walkers. Paul gave them a hand and as a sign of gratitude he was accepted within the group together with the two women that accompanied him.

Now they are heading to Canada, although Paul was one of those that disagreed with the decision. He believed that they already had everything they needed at the farm and the road to Canada would take months and would be full of dangers. But he was in minority so with a heavy heart and pretty upset he left the farm together with the others, destination Canada.

X__X . . . I just died of awesome overdoes . . .

Perfect. Accepted!

Edited Karen's CS to include how she came to join the present group an why she is heading to Canada

Dagnabit glitchy system

They're locking down my unit, so I won't be able to post for a couple of weeks.

So tell me our dear, sweet GM, when are we gonna have the pleasure of seeing your CS?

Hey, I've got a character for this in mind and I've already started creating him if you're still taking in more people.

Oops, sorry for double posting

Soon. Soon my dearies, you shall meet Sir Isacclumberjackington The Third, and his warfstache of wonderdom!

69

Name: Ryan Matthews

Age: 17

Height: 5' 10’’

Weight: 167 lbs.



Weapons:
2 tomahawks (w/ sheaths)
7.5 in tactical knife (w/ sheath)

Previous “Occupation”: high school sophomore, Boy Scout, ultimate frisbee team member

Appearance:



His Boy Scout uniform is pretty small for him, but he keeps it because the uniform and the frisbee are the only things he has that give him a connection to home. He has three plain V-neck T-shirts (one charcoal, one black, one dark) that he switches off between. He wears hiking boots that are a little small on him and long black socks. He has a single pair of cargo shorts and a pair of jeans. Ryan is mostly lean muscle and is very athletic from all of his time running in ultimate frisbee.

Bio:
Ryan Matthews was born in Dallas, Texas, on May 23, 1997 to Bill and Theresa Matthews. He had two siblings, Jillian, 2 years elder, and David, 4 years elder.

Ryan joined Cub Scouts in Kindergarten and met his best friend Dylan Thomas. The two grew up together in school and moved up from Cub Scouts to Boy Scouts and both earned the rank of Eagle Scout. They even held their Court of Honor together. In addition to the many other merit badges that they had to complete to earn Eagle, they both did the Wilderness Survival badge and the Emergency Preparedness badge.

Ryan was a class clown in school and didn’t care much for grades, but made a plethora of friends and was well liked by almost everyone, for being a funny and kind-hearted person. Ryan played on the varsity ultimate frisbee team his freshman year of high school, while Dylan joined the marching band, but the two still managed to remain best friends. Ryan had a huge passion for the outdoors and spent almost all of his free-time with Dylan and other friends, camping, exploring, hunting, or playing ultimate frisbee.

The apocalypse started when Ryan and Dylan were on a BSA high-adventure backpacking trip in New Mexico the summer before he started junior high. Because no one was allowed to use their electronic devices while at camp, no one knew about the evacuations until it was too late. When they made it back to base camp, they found a horde of Boy Scout zombies. Only Ryan, Dylan, and another scout managed to escape.

The three scouts survived on their own for a while until they found a Jeep and ventured back home to Dallas. When they arrived on the outskirts of the city, they realized that everyone was either turned or gone. They then decided to hike north in search of other survivors.

They survived on their own for a while until they ran into a scavenging group that brought them to a yacht out on Lake Texoma in Oklahoma via kayak. The group lived on the yacht for a few months, periodically going ashore on kayak to look for fuel, food, and other supplies until their scavenging party was ambushed by a group of survivors. Ryan panicked and hid and was the only one to survive the attack and watched in horror as the not-so-friendly group of survivors killed Dylan and his other friends from the yacht, took the kayaks and hijacked the yacht. Ryan fled in search of a new home.

Ryan traveled north because something inside him felt like it was the direction to go. He traveled through the forest. Every night he would climb up in a tree and sleep in his eno high enough so that the walkers couldn’t reach him. He hunted game with snares and tomahawk and just continued to travel north, thanks to his compass until he got to the edge of the forest and the plains found a small town. He scavenged the town for supplies and found some food, water, an emergency hammer, a pair of jeans, a roll of duct tape, and a bicycle. He continued to travel north on bike until he found a farmhouse. He was running low on food and water, so he decided to raid the farmhouse, but only to find that there was a band of survivors living there. He quickly made friends with the band of survivors and was absorbed into their band of misfits.

It was Ryan who had first heard the message from Canada. He had been fiddling around with his hand-crank radio, when the voice came on and talked about the place in Canada. He excitedly told the rest of the group, anxious for a chance at a regular life and the possibility that his family may still be alive out there.

Ryan carries the weight of having no idea of the whereabouts of his family. He has no idea if any of them are still alive. He knows that he will probably never see any of his family ever again, but he refuses to truly believe it. He still yearns to find them. Ryan also carries around the guilt of the death of his best friend and the death of his other friends on the yacht. He knows that he couldn’t have done anything, but the fact that he panicked, hid, and fled instead of fighting and trying haunts him.

69
Name: Eric Bones

Age: 27

Height: 6'5"

Weight: 196

Equipment:
- Large school backpack with plenty of pockets
- Several t-shirts
- extra pair of jeans
- 1 half-empty lighter
- duck-tape
- one time use light-stick
- small tarp
- stuff stack blanket
- 2 large full water bottles
- 20 foot coil of thick paracord

Weapons:
- Eric engineered his own weapon. It is consisting of a steel rake with the head broken off, clipped to a survival knife from his uncle, so it looks like a spear. The knife can become unattached if needed. One side of the knife is

Previous Occupation: Owner of a bar

Appearance: Eric Bones

Anything that you cant see in the picture. A small cut through his left eyebrow the prevents hair growing. Very muscular.

Bio: Eric thought it strange when his customers started biting each other. Of course weird things always happened in the bar, but biting people was stranger than normal. Much stranger. One of them even tried to bite him. Ridiculous what some people tried to do when they were drunk enough.

Clearing out his bar took some work, but somehow Eric managed not to get bit. At this point he had realized that these biting people were not just weird drunks. Must have been from the dead people lieing around his bar. Packing up some basic emergency supplies from his back room, Eric took off into the night.

A year later Eric was wandering the country always on the lookout for a safe place and supplies. In the past year he had come to accept walkers as a normal part of every day life. He had encounters with groups of survivors, but they never ended up well. Most of them tried to kick him out because of his cynical attitude. However Eric didn't mind, living alone was a simpler life.

Unfortunately the one problem he always ran into was finding a place to settle down into. Most places were filled with Walkers or trashed by raiders. Or just not up to his standard. Eric always had a high standard of living.

Many speared Walkers later Eric met a small group of people. He was traveling through the forest in order to avoid a hoard of Walkers when he ran into them. A bunch of adrenaline-pumped idiots. Before he could get a single demeaning word out, one of them had shot him in the leg. The bullet tore through his upper leg, fortunately missing the bone, and pushed all the way through. In short it was a very lucky place to get shot. However he was shot, something Eric wasn't to happy about.

After promising to kill everyone of them, the junkies decided to put Eric out. One of them slammed his head with a shovel. It was hard enough to knock it out and leave a gash in his forehead, but not enough to kill him. When he woke up the first thing that he saw was a walker. The demented thing had smelled his blood and was making it's way through the trees. Scrambling to his feet, his leg and head screaming in pain, Eric limped out of the way of the oncoming dead.

Seemingly years later, but what must have been only a few minutes, Eric made it to a small farm house. It was near the edge of the forest. He struggled up to the house, looking for any signs of life. At this point he had lost much of his blood and was feeling very light headed. Eric didn't want to leave the house unchecked, before passing out so he moved to the front door to check inside. Before he could so much as touch the door handle the lack of blood caused him to faint. He collapsed like a sack on the front porch with a loud bang.

It was there that he met the group. They nourished him back to health as much as possible. He has mostly recovered from his injuries, only a slight limp now. He is remaining with them for the time being until he can think of something better to do. Until the times comes Eric will stay with them and travel where they go. He supposed it was a miracle they hadn't kicked him out by now, so he might as well stick around for a while.

69

Name: Blake Cross

Age: 45

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 160Kg

Equipment:
Sturdy leather boots and jacket
A large duffel bag to carry his supplies
Swiss Army knife
A set of water purification tablets
Water bottles
A few cans of food
A bottle of cheap whiskey
A bedroll
Keys for the truck silo
A small flashlight on his keychain
Set of road maps
Compass
GPS with half a battery

Weapons: A small and unused hatchet, a hunting rifle and 2 small boxes of ammo about 40 shots.

Previous Occupation: Trucker

Appearance:

Bio:
It was Blake's day off when the dead first began to rise, he was in his apartment sipping beer and flicking through the channels and only really heard about a few isolated incidents on the news. When he fell asleep that night he didn't expect the world to change so much overnight...His past, his life, everything he used to care about was suddenly useless and meant nothing.

Blake stayed in his apartment, boarding up the windows with furniture and lying low until his food ran out. The power went out and the stuff in his freezer went bad quickly, he wasn't especially close to his neighbours so he never bothered checking on them. Finally he snuck out, taking the most useful stuff and heading out to find a supposed safe zone.

He'd made the wrong call, the dead hadn't made it to his neighbourhood for a few days so if he'd have left a few days earlier he might have escaped. The large town he lived in was of little concern for the military and so it was up to him to make his own way out, he joined a small group that was holding out in the town's main bar and they managed to hold out for about a week before the decided to try and move on.

Blake lead them to the truck silo on the outskirts of town where he previously worked, together the group managed to get the keys for an RV that was being temporarily held in the silo and it looked as though they were all going to make it. With full tank of fuel and a fridge stuffed with supplies the group set out onto the back roads and tried to head to D.C, assuming that would be a safe place.

They never made it to the capital, walker hordes and blocked roads forced them to search elsewhere and one by one the group died out until it was just Blake and the RV. It was about eleven months after the outbreak that he met up with his current group, a chance encounter lead him to picking them up in the RV by the side of the road and joining them on the journey north.

Niiiice! Finally some interest! I was beginning to lose hope! :)