May, 2014: Patient 0 was discovered
March, 2015: Virus reaches American soil.
April, 2015: Small outbreaks are contained.
June, 2015: Large cities are overrun, including Summer City.
August, 2015: Starting date of the RP.

Description: Summer City is a fictional city located on the East Coast of the United states. Geographically, this city would replace and mirror the city of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania- albeit a bit smaller. A cultural and economic hub, the city is home to peoples of different race and class. The city is equipped with several police precincts, hospitals, hotels, motels, gas stations, car dealerships, and more. Underground sewage exists- power plants are located far outside of the city. Supplies are bountiful in the city as is the danger.

Here is where I make the most important changes. The way the virus works is far more similar to the virus from The Walking Dead rather than Max Brook's Solanum Virus. However similar to the virus from The Walking Dead, it is different still. Be sure to read this section carefully.

Infection: Every human is a carrier of the virus- thus it is assumed the virus is either airborne or waterborne. However, there are several stages to the virus. The first stage is called the Dormant Stage. During this stage the virus lives within it's host without affecting it in any way. If the host expires by any means, the Dormant virus will transition into the Necro Stage. The second stage is the Active Stage. This stage typically occurs between the Dormant Stage and the Necro Stage, but can be skipped. During this stage the virus will begin to spread throughout the host's body. The host's body will attempt to reject the virus' spread, causing symptoms such as body aches, muscle aches, weakness, fatigue, nausea, and vomiting. After several hours, the virus will expire it's host, thus transitioning into the last stage. The final stage, the Necro Stage, occurs when a previously infected host expires. The virus, now transitioned into the last stage, reactivates several areas of the host's brain, creating the 'Zombie'. One of the most important factors of the Necro Stage is that when a Necro Stage virus is transmitted to a living host with a Dormant Stage virus, the Necro virus will cause the Dormant virus to become an Active virus. A host that expires from an Active Stage virus will reanimate far more quickly than a host that expired from alternative causes. This is due to the Dormant Stage virus having to activate and spread throughout the body, a task already completed by an Active Phase virus.

TL;DR- If you get bit, you will die of a fever, and then reanimate as a zombie. If you die of any other cause, you will still turn into a zombie, albeit the time it takes to reanimate will be a bit longer.

Here I discuss all the physical abilities of the zombies. Most of this information comes directly from Max Brooks. I did, however, tweak a few things here and there, but mostly everything is the same. Take a gander at this if you really want to know the ins and outs of the zombies.

Sight: The eyes of a zombie are no different than those of a normal human. While still capable (given their rate of decomposition) of transmitting visual signals to the brain, how the brain interprets these signals is another matter. Studies are inconclusive regarding the undead's visual abilities. They can spot prey at distances comparable to a human, but how they can distinguish a human from one of their own is still up for debate.(Zombies are Ugly) One theory suggests that the movements made by humans, who are quicker and smoother than those of the undead, is what causes them to stand out to the zombie eye. Experiments have been done in which humans have attempted to confuse approaching ghouls by mimicking their motions and adopting a shambling, awkward limp. None have been successful.

Sound: There is no question that zombies have excellent hearing. Not only can they detect sound - they can determine its direction. The basic range appears to be the same as that for humans. Experiments with extreme high and low frequencies have yielded negative results. Tests have also shown that zombies are attracted by any sounds, not just those made by living creatures. It has been recorded that ghouls will notice sounds ignored by living humans. The most likely, if unproven, explanation is that zombies depend on all their senses equally. Humans are sight-oriented from birth, depending on other senses only if the primary one is lost. Perhaps this is not a handicap shared by the walking dead. If so, it would explain their ability to hunt, fight, and feed in total darkness.

Smell: Like with sound, the undead have a more acute sense of smell. Their sense of smell is arguably the main reason they can tell each other from humans, since they can see and hear each other just as well as they can with humans. In both combat situations and laboratory tests, they have been able to distinguish the smell of living prey above all others. In many cases, and given ideal wind conditions, zombies have been known to smell fresh corpses from a distance of more than a mile. Again, this does not mean that ghouls have a greater sense of smell than humans, simply that they rely on it more. It is not known exactly what particular secretion signals the presence of prey: sweat, pheromones, blood, etc. In the past, people seeking to move undetected through infested areas have attempted to "mask" their human scent with perfumes, deodorants, or other strong-smelling chemicals. None were successful.

Taste: Little is known about the altered taste buds of the walking dead. Zombies do have the ability to tell human flesh apart from that of animals, and they prefer the former. Ghouls also have a remarkable ability to reject carrion in favor of freshly killed meat. A human body that has been dead longer than twelve to eighteen hours will be rejected as food. The same goes for cadavers that have been embalmed or otherwise preserved. Whether this has anything to do with "taste" is not yet certain. It may have to do with smell or, perhaps, another instinct that has not been discovered. As to exactly why human flesh is preferable, science has yet to find an answer to this confounding, frustrating, terrifying question. One theory is that since reanimation only takes place in humans, zombies prefer attacking humans so that the virus can more easily spread.

Touch: Zombies have, literally, no physical sensations. All nerve receptors throughout the body remain dead after reanimation. This is truly their greatest and most terrifying advantage over the living. We, as humans, have the ability to experience physical pain as a signal of bodily damage. Our brain classifies such sensations, matches them to the experience that instigated them, and then files the information away for use as a warning against future harm. It is this gift of physiology and instinct that has allowed us to survive as a species. It is why we value virtues such as courage, which inspires people to perform actions despite warnings of danger. The inability to recognize and avoid pain is what makes the walking dead so formidable. Wounds will not be noticed and, therefore, will not deter an attack. Even if a zombie's body is severely damaged, it will continue to attack until nothing remains.

Sixth Sense: The walking dead have been known to attack even when all their sensory organs have been damaged or completely decomposed. Does this mean that zombies possess a sixth sense? Perhaps. It is possible that the virus can stimulate another sensory ability that has been forgotten by evolution. This theory is one of the most hotly debated in the war against the undead. So far, no evidence has been found to support either side.

Healing: Undead physiology has been proven to possess no powers of regeneration. Cells that are damaged stay damaged. Any wounds, no matter what their size and nature, will remain for the duration of that body's reanimation. This inability to self-repair, something that we as living beings take for granted, is a severe disadvantage to the undead. For example, every time we physically exert ourselves, we tear our muscles. With time, these muscles rebuild to a stronger state than before. A ghoul's muscle mass will remain damaged, reducing its effectiveness every time it is used. Given time, the walking dead will be reduced to a crawl.

Decomposition: The average zombie "life span" - how long it is able to function before completely rotting away - is impossible to estimate. A human corpse able to ward off the natural effects of decay - its cause is rooted in basic biology. When a human body dies, its flesh is immediately set upon by billions of microscopic organisms. These organisms were always present, in the external environment and within the body itself. In life, the immune system stood as a barrier between these organisms and their target. In death, that barrier is removed. The organisms begin multiplying exponentially as they proceed to eat and, thereby, break down the corpse on a cellular level. The smell and discoloration associated with any decaying meat are the biological process of these microbes at work. When you order an "aged" steak, you are ordering a piece of meat that has begun to rot, its formerly toughened flesh softened by microorganisms breaking down its sturdy fiber.

Within a short time, that steak, like a human corpse, will dissolve to nothing, leaving behind only material with no nutritional value, or is too hard for any microbe, such as bone, teeth, nails, and hair. This is the normal cycle of life, nature's way of recycling nutrients back into the food chain. To halt this process, and preserve dead tissue, it is necessary to place it in an environment unsuitable for bacteria, such as in extreme low or high temperatures, in toxic chemicals such as formaldehyde, or, in this case, to saturate it with Solanum. Almost all the microbe species involved in normal human decomposition have repeatedly rejected flesh infected by the virus, effectively embalming the zombie. Were this not the case, combating the living dead would be as easy as avoiding them for several weeks or even days until they rotted away to bones. It has been determined, however, that at least some microbe species ignore the repelling effects of the virys - otherwise, the undead would remain perfectly preserved forever.

Digestion: Evidence has discounted the theory that human flesh is the fuel for the undead. A zombie's digestive tract is completely dormant. The complex system that processes food, extracts nutrition, and eliminates waste does not factor into a zombie's physiology. Autopsy's conducted on neutralized undead would show that their "food" lies in its original, undigested state at all sections of the tract. This partially chewed, slowly rotting matter will continue to accumulate, as the zombie devours more victims, until it is forced through the anus, or literally bursts through the stomach or intestinal lining. While this more dramatic example of non-digestion is rare, hundreds of eyewitness reports have confirmed undead to have distended bellies. One captured and dissected specimen was found to contain 211 pounds of flesh within its system! Even rarer accounts have confirmed that zombies continue to feed long after their digestive tracts have exploded from within.

Respiration: The lungs of the undead continue to function in that they draw air into and expel it from the body. This function accounts for a zombie's signature moan. What the lungs and body chemistry fail to accomplish, however, is to extract oxygen and remove carbon dioxide. Given that the virus obviates the need for both of these functions, the entire human respiratory system is obsolete in the body of a ghoul. This explains how the living dead can "walk underwater" or survive in environments lethal to humans. Their brains, as noted earlier, are oxygen independent.

Circulation: It would be inaccurate to say that zombies have no heart. It would be accurate, however, to say that they find no use for it. The circulatory system of the undead is little more than a network of useless tubes filled with congealed blood. The same applies to the lymphatic system as well as all other bodily fluids. Although this mutation would appear to give the undead one more advantage over humanity, it has actually proved to be a godsend to humanity.

The lack of fluid mass prevents easy transmission of the virus. Were this not true, hand-to-hand combat would be nearly impossible, as the defending human would almost certainly be splattered with blood and/or other fluids.

Strength: Zombies possess the same brute force as the living. What power can be exerted depends greatly on the individual zombie. What muscle mass a person has in life would be all he possesses in death. Unlike a living body, adrenal glands have not been known to function in the dead, denying zombies the temporary burst of power we humans enjoy. The one solid advantage the living dead do possess is amazing stamina.

Imagine working out, or any other act of physical exertion. Chances are that pain and exhaustion will dictate your limits. In fact, humans are normally unable to use more than a third of the total power their muscles can provide, save for extreme life-threatening situations. These factors do not apply to the dead. They will continue an act, with the same dynamic energy, until the muscles supporting it literally disintegrate. While this makes for progressively weaker zombies, it allows for an all-powerful first attack. Many barricades that would have exhausted three or even four physically fit humans have fallen to a single determined zombie.

Speed: The "walking" dead tend to move at a slouch or limp. Even without injuries or advanced decomposition, their lack of coordination makes for an unsteady stride. Speed is mainly determined by leg length. Taller ghouls have longer strides than their shorter counterparts, and therefore, move somewhat faster. Several accounts report zombies moving faster only when they are closer to their prey. Again, as with strength, the dead's advantage over the living is their tirelessness. Humans who believe they have outrun their undead pursuers might do well to remember the story of the tortoise and the hare, adding, of course, that in this instance the hare stands a good chance of being eaten alive.

Agility: The average living human possesses a dexterity level 90 percent greater than the most agile ghoul. Some of this comes from the general stiffness of necrotic muscle tissue (hence their awkward stride). The rest is due to their primitive brain functions. Zombies have little hand-eye coordination, one of their greatest weaknesses. No one has ever observed a zombie jumping, either from one spot to another or simply up and down. Balancing on a narrow surface is similarly beyond their agility. Swimming is also a skill reserved for the living.

Zombies who walk or fall into bodies of water will more likely find themselves wandering aimlessly across the bottom until eventually dissolving. They can be successful climbers, but only in certain circumstances. If zombies perceive prey above them, for example, in the second story of a house, they will always attempt to climb to it. Zombies will try to scale any surface no matter how unfeasible or even impossible. In all but the easiest situations, these attempts have met with failure. Even in the case of ladders, when simple hand-over-hand coordination is required, only one in four zombies will succeed past two or three rungs.

There are some instances where huge groups of zombies converged into a 'mega-swarm'. In this instance, so many zombies come together that they form solid walls of the undead, scrambling and tumbling over each-other in a manner similar to African driving ants. These mega-swarms are often the most dangerous, not only for the obvious reasons of too many enemies to kill, but also because in these huge waves they may get high enough to climb over defenses, or even just heavy enough to break them down. They are also very hard to kill, as these dense waves of bodies make explosions, shrapnel blasts and incendiary weapons almost entirely ineffective.

Killing the Undead: While destroying a zombie may be simple, it is far from easy. As we have seen, zombies require none of the physiological functions that humans need to survive. Destruction or severe damage of the circulatory, digestive, or respiratory system would do nothing to a member of the walking dead, as these functions no longer support the brain. Simply put, there are thousands of ways to kill a humanoid, but only one way to kill a zombie. The brain must be obliterated, by any means possible.

Disposal: Studies have shown that the virus can still inhabit the body of a terminated zombie for up to forty eight hours. Exercise extreme care when disposing of undead corpses. The head in particular possesses the most serious hazard, given its concentration of the virus. Never handle an undead corpse without protective clothing. Treat it as you would any toxic, highly lethal material. Cremation is the safest, most effective way of disposal. Despite rumors that a pile of burning corpses will spread the virus in a cloud of smoking plague, common sense would dictate that any virus is unable to survive intense heat, to say nothing of an open flame.

Here I discuss all the behavioral patterns of the zombies. Most of this information comes directly from Max Brooks. I did, however, tweak a few things here and there, but mostly everything is the same. Take a gander at this if you really want to know the ins and outs of the zombies.

Intelligence: Our greatest advantage over the undead is our ability to think. The mental capacity of the average zombie ranks somewhere beneath that of an insect. On no occasion have they shown any ability to reason or employ logic. Attempting to accomplish a task, failing, then by trial and error discovering a new solution, is a skill shared by many members of the animal kingdom but lost on the walking dead.

For example, imagine a human standing at one end of a collapsed bridge with several dozen zombies on the other side. One by one, the walking dead would tumble over the edge in a futile attempt to reach him. At no time would any of them realize what was happening and change their tactics in any way. Another example, imagine a zombie digging into a sand dune to try to catch a mole that had tunneled in; digging in such loose material will only end up spilling more sand into the hole, so it is physically impossible for the zombie to reach its goal. Nevertheless, the zombie will keep digging, almost like a robot, for five days straight, until distracted by other prey. Zombies have never been observed using tools of any kind. Even picking up a rock to use as a weapon is beyond their grasp. This simple task would prove the basic thought process involved in realizing that the rock is a more efficient weapon than the naked hand. Ironically, the age of artificial intelligence has enabled us to identify more easily with the mind of the zombie than that of our more "primitive" ancestors. With rare exceptions, even the most advanced computers do not have the ability to think on their own.

They do what they are programmed to do, nothing more. Imagine a computer programmed to execute one function. This function cannot be paused, modified, or erased. No new data can be stored. No new commands can be installed. No new equipment will be added, and if any are lost the computer will simply continue to execute it's function without as if it never had it. This computer will perform that one function, over and over, until its power source eventually shuts down, recognizing and using only the tools and equipment still currently attached to it. This is the zombie brain. An instinct-driven, single-minded machine that is impervious to tampering and can only be destroyed.

Emotions: Feelings of any kind are not known to the walking dead. Every form of psychological warfare, from attempts at enraging the undead to provoking pity have all met with disaster. Joy, sadness, confidence, anxiety, love, hatred, fear-all of these feelings and thousands more that make up the human "heart" are as useless to the living dead as the organ of the same name. Who knows if this is humanity's greatest weakness or strength? The debate continues, and probably will forever.

Memories: A modern concept is that a zombie retains the knowledge of its former life. We hear stories of the dead returning to their places of residence or work, operating familiar machinery, or even showing acts of mercy to loved ones. Not a shred of proof exists to support this wishful thinking. Zombies could not possibly retain memories of their former lives in either the conscious or subconscious mind, because neither exist! A ghoul will not be distracted by the family pet, living relatives, familiar surroundings, etc.

No matter who a person was in his or her former life, that person, sadly and unfortunately, is gone forever, replaced by a mindless automaton with no instinct other than for feeding. This begs the question: Why do zombies prefer urban areas to the countryside? First, the undead do not prefer cities, but simply remain where they are reanimated until they wander off elsewhere. Second, the main reason zombies tend to stay in cities instead of fanning out into the countryside is because an urban zone holds the highest concentration of prey, and until that prey either dies or moves somewhere else, the zombie won't be going anywhere either. In a city devoid of life, zombies will wander aimlessly until they wander right out of the city.

Physical Needs: Other than hunger (discussed later), the dead have shown none of the physical wants or needs expressed in mortal life. Zombies have never been observed to sleep or rest under any circumstances. They have not reacted to extreme heat or cold. In harsh weather, they have never sought shelter. Even something as simple as thirst is unknown to the living dead. Defying all laws of science, the virus has created what could be described as a completely self-sufficient organism, whose only practical biological drive is to spread the virus.

Communication: Zombies have no language skills. Although their vocal cords are capable of speech, their brain is not. The only vocal ability appears to be a deep-throated moan. This moan is released when zombies identify prey. The sound will remain low and steady until physical contact is made. It will then shift in tone and volume as the zombie commences its attack. This eerie sound, so typically associated with the walking dead, serves as a rallying cry for other zombies and, as has been recently discovered, is a potent psychological weapon. Social Dynamics Theories have always proliferated that the undead function as a collective force, from an army controlled by Satan to an insect-like pheromone-driven hive to the most recent notion that they achieve group consensus by telepathy. The truth is that zombies have no social organization to speak of.

There is no hierarchy, no chain of command, no drive toward any type of collectivization. A horde of the undead, regardless of size, regardless of appearance, is simply a mass of individuals. If several hundred ghouls converge on a victim's location, it is because each one is drawn by its own instinct. Zombies appear to be unaware of one another. Individuals have never been observed to react to the sight of one another at any range. This goes back to the question of sense: How does a zombie distinguish between one of its own and a human or other prey at the same range? The answer has yet to be found. Zombies do avoid one another in the same way they avoid inanimate objects. When they bump into one another, they make no attempt to connect or communicate. Zombies feasting on the same corpse will tug repeatedly on the meat in question rather than shove a competitor out of the way. The only suggestion of communal effort is seen in notorious swarm attacks: the moan of a ghoul calling others within earshot. Once they hear the wail, other walking dead will almost always converge on its source. This has led to a phenomena that has been dubbed the chain swarm, where the alerting of one zombie, which alerts every zombie within earshot who each does the same thing, will cause a chain reaction that results in zombies being drawn to one spot from hundreds, even thousands of miles away.

Hunting: Zombies are migratory organisms, with no regard for territory or concept of home. They will travel miles and perhaps, given time, cross continents in their search for food. Their hunting pattern is random. Ghouls will feed at night and during the day. They will stumble through an area rather than deliberately searching it. Certain zones or structures will not be singled out as more likely to contain prey. For example, some have been known to search farmhouses and other rural structures while others in the same group have moved by without even a glance.

Urban zones take more time to explore, which is why the undead remain longer in these areas, but no building will take precedence over another. Zombies appear to be totally unaware of their surroundings. They do not, for example, move their eyes in a way that would take in the information of a new setting. Shuffling silently, with a thousand-yard stare, they will wander aimlessly, regardless of location, until prey is detected. As discussed earlier, the undead possess an uncanny ability to home in on a victim's precise location. Once contact is made, the previously silent, oblivious automaton transforms into something more closely related to a guided missile.

The head turns immediately in the direction of its victim. The jaw drops, lips retract, and, from the depths of its diaphragm, comes the moan. Once contact is made, zombies cannot be distracted by any means, save for a closer victim. They will continue to pursue their prey, stopping only if they lose contact, make a successful kill, or are destroyed.

Motivation: Why do the undead prey upon the living? It is evident that human flesh serves no nutritional purpose, why does their instinct drive them to murder? The truth eludes us. Evidence has shown that living humans are not the only delights on the undead menu. Rescue teams entering an infested area have consistently reported them stripped of all life. Any creatures, no matter what their size or species, will be consumed by an attacking zombie. Human flesh, however, will always be preferable to other life forms. Reasons for this are still unknown, but one theory for human preference is that humans are the only creature that reanimate and seek out new victims, allowing the virus to spread to new hosts, as any other creature infected with the virus will simply die. What can be confirmed, beyond any shadow of doubt, is that instinct brought on by the virus drives the undead to kill and devour any living creature they discover. There appear to be no exceptions.

Username: (Your guildname goes here)
Character Name: (Your character's name goes here)
Age: (Your character's age goes here)
Gender: (Your characters gender goes here)
Appearance: (Your character's appearance goes here. Pictures are preferred)

Personality: (Your character's personality goes here- It may be good to discuss a change in personality after the outbreak)

Background: (Discuss how your character's life was before the outbreak. Also, include how your character has survived until this point. What has he/she been doing since the outbreak?)

Equipment: (What equipment do you have on your person?)

Other Notes: (Can you swim? Can you operate a train? Are you afraid of small spaces? Do you smoke/drink? Any other important information goes here)

Username: Roxx
[b]Character Name: Casey Tanner
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Appearance:

Personality: Selfish, arrogant, and slick, Casey will do whatever he needs to get what he wants. Before the outbreak, Casey wasn't exactly a straight arrow but he wasn't a killer either. Making a living by stealing mostly, Casey cared little about the well being of others but himself. After the outbreak, however, he's done things he never thought he would have before. With the absence of authorities, he has little to keep him in check. He’s not necessarily heartless but if it comes down to you or him, he’d pick himself a hundred times over.

Background: Casey was born into a middle class family. His single mother, Morgan, owned a locksmith shop in Summer city with the help of his older sister, Chase. Chase was an excellent student who Casey could never compare to. Thus, Chase became their mother's favorite and got everything she wanted- at least according to Casey she did. Casey was clever though and would tell lies to impress his mother. As Casey grew, so did his knack for telling lies. As a teenager, Casey made a point to avoid asking for things from his mother, unlike his spoiled sister. Instead, he would get what he needed on his own. If he wanted to see a movie or go out to eat, he would pay for it himself. However, the means he used to do this weren't always honest. For a while, he sold pot to the kids in his school- usually cheating them for extra cash one way or another.

Thanks to his 'occupation', Casey began meeting various other not-so-honest people like himself. It wasn't long before he found himself getting into street fights, stealing, and more. Finally, when he was brought home by the police, his mother decided he needed honest work. His sister had just gone away to college so his mother made him spend several hours every day after school working in their shop. After a few years, Casey picked up his mothers trade, for better or for worse.

Barely graduating high school, Casey had no intention on continuing his schooling at all. He had just begun his 'career' in burglary when he moved out of his mother's house. Using his newly acquired talent, Casey had begun breaking into homes and stealing, typically, cash. Casey knew better than to steal valuables and selling them- it was far too easy to get caught doing that. Instead, if Casey saw something he wanted for himself, a new xbox, a lap top, a fresh pair of kicks, whatever it was, he'd snatch it. Between this and working in his mother's shop, he was living fairly comfortably.

Casey had been living on his own for almost four years before the virus came barreling through the city. At the time, Casey's girlfriend of a two years, Madison, had been living with him. The panic that consumed the city consumed the two of them as well. He wanted to find his mother and make sure she was safe while Madison wanted to stay inside where it was safe. After a small fight, he left her there and went out on his own. Once on the streets though, Casey realized how dangerous it was. There weren't many infected yet, but everyone was going crazy. Luckily his car had been broken into destroyed- so he had to walk. What would have been an hour walk turned into an entire day's worth of travel. Casey had to stop several times to avoid obvious danger. When he arrived at his mother's shop, it didn't look good.

The shop had protective gates but they were only pulled down half way, as if someone was closing them but had to flee before they could finish. When Casey made his way into the shop, it looked like a tornado hit it. Everything was everywhere- but it didn't look like anything was missing. As he made his way to the back he found a pool of blood as well as a trail leading to the door that led to the upstairs apartment where his mother lived. Casey opened the door and slowly made his way up the stairs, unsure of what exactly to expect. The stairs opened up into the living room where there was more blood. A man was standing over his mother, blood all around them.

Before Casey knew it he was on the fucker. Pulling the man off his mother, Casey mounted him and began pounding his fists into the man's face. Over and over again his fists beat the man until the mans face and his fists were so slippery that his fist slid off the man's face and into the floor next to them. Pain shot through Casey's arm, pulling him from his rage. What was once a face was now a pile of blood and skull. Casey barely noticed, he was more concerned about his mother.

Rushing to his mother now, he could see she was hurt. Her shirt was blood soaked around the stomach where she had some sort of injury. Instinctively applying pressure to the wound, he called out to his mother. She didn't respond but he wasn't giving up on her yet. He found some linens and wrapped her wound tightly. Judging by the ceaseless blaring of sirens outside, Casey knew better than calling an ambulance. If it were just a gunshot wound or a stab wound, she would be alright. Casey brought her to her bed, blood seeping through his makeshift bandages and onto his mother's favorite bed sheets. The sun was setting now but Casey stayed by her bed.

Casey awoke to the faint sounds of gargling. He was suddenly aware he had fallen asleep at his mother's side. His mother looked as though she were having difficulty breathing, as though there were fluid in her throat. Quickly, he tried picking her up. He noticed her arms were ice cold as he propped her against the back of the bed. Blood began oozing out of her mouth. Before Casey even had time to be alarmed his mother suddenly lurched forward in an attempt to grab him. She was infected.

It was a week later before Casey decided the streets were clear enough for him to get back to his apartment, to get back to Madison. He had grown increasingly worried about Madison as he watched the horrors that roamed the streets now. He had learned enough by now that he shouldn't go unprepared. So he equipped himself with a sharp steel pole that he managed to strip from his mother's bed frame. Furthermore, he dressed in a leather jacket, jeans, and a pair of work boots, despite the warm weather. On his back was a backpack filled with as much water and food the apartment had left.

It seemed someone several blocks down had begun unloading a semi-auto, which was attracting all the zeds nearby. This was his chance. He started his journey in a jog, knowing he needed to move swiftly but maintain enough stamina for an emergency. Several blocks and everything was going well. He had attracted several infected but not many. They lagged behind him as he kept his pace at a jog. Yet, just when he thought he would make it without a hitch, a kid behind a mask appeared from behind an abandoned car. He pointed a gun at Casey and ordered him to bring his backpack to him. Casey could see the kid was barely sixteen and had probably never shot the handgun that was shaking in his hands. Casey figured the kid would have never shot him, considering his trembling, locked elbows, and tight grip. Yet, the semi-auto from before had silenced and he didn't need a gunshot to attract any unwanted company.

So Casey approached the kid slowly. The kid lifted his mask and it was evident the kid was even younger than he expected. The kid was sweating profusely. How did he even make it this long? Casey was only three feet away from the kid, very aware of the zeds that he had attracted before who were catching up now. When Casey saw the kids eye's flick toward the zombies behind him, he made his move. Wielding the steel pipe, Casey smashed the kid's knee causing him to fall to the floor. The kid screamed in pain, clutching his knee, forgetting about his gun completely. Casey didn't let up though, he continued by smashing the other kid's knee with the pipe. The young kid, probably thirteen years old, howled in pain. Casey took the kid's gun, quite easily now that the kid was blinded by pain, and continued on his way. Behind him he could hear the zombies had found their dinner. It was the best way Casey could think of to get them off his tail.

The sun had set by the time Casey finally made it back to his apartment- his empty apartment. Not only was Madison gone but so was everything else. Looted.

For the past month Casey has been surviving however he could. His goal- to find Madison. Somehow.

Equipment: Handgun with ammo, backpack with two cans of beans, one can of fruit, and three water bottles, a lockpick set, and a crowbar.

Other Notes: Casey has been smoking cigarettes since he was 13. He's been smoking pot and drinking alcohol since he was 14. Despite these two, Casey is in fairly decent shape. Casey can drive average cars- he has never attempted driving a truck, motorcycle, etc. He also has a terrible sense of direction and gets lost extremely easily. Casey hates boring/uptight people as well as cops. He loves women though- redheads to be more specific.

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Username: Eklispe
Name: Michael Tinker
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Appearance
Personality: Michael, or Tinker, as he prefers to be called is very energetic. Hyperactive and excitable while the while zombie apocalypse thing keeps him more subdued than he normally is, he is by no means gloomy. He is very protective of anything he invents. However for all his positive energy Tinker is not very trusting, he acts naive but is well versed in deception and is willing to do anything to survive. He seems to have a darker side to him...

Background: Tinker lived most of his life as a admittedly somewhat energetic, but otherwise average student. Went through school with all B+'s and didn't have a lot of friends except for those who were in the engineering class. The only class that Tinker took any interest in had excelled in. This fueled him ambition to become an inventor and his father's hobbies left all kinds of electronic misfits in the garage. The Garage become his home as soon as school ended. Tinker lived up to his name and created countless miniature device, prototypes, and other useless toys. The only other hobby Tinker indulged in was quite out of nature for his otherwise nerdy skills, boxing. Tinker was a skilled boxer but was never the best, however he did always manage to land a solid silver or bronze at the local tournaments, this gave him a great physical endurance for the upcoming trails.

The zombie virus spread to his town on the same day as his birthday, Tinker was driving his birthday present out of town for it's first test run. When he came back it was already over, the half-hour he had spent driving had been enough time for the town to became corrupted. Tinker drove back into town full of the excitement of having finally driven his own car. Zombies slowly attempted to drag it down and at first Tinker slowed down for them, but as they got closer he saw their rotted bodies and terrified sped up and drove out of town. When night fell he carefully snuck back into his house on the outskirts of town, he retrieved two of his favorite toys from the garage, his taser fists. As he opened the door back into his house, his zombified mother stumbled out, he reflexively punched her in the head, knocking it clean off and killing the brain through electrocution. His father stumbled out after her and suffered the same fate, horrified Tinker simply stood there staring at the bodies. He sat down and simply stared at them. At least an hour later he finally roused himself from his reverie and set to work.

He quickly decided that his Taser Fists were impractical and should only be used as a last resort. He fashioned himself a metal quarter-staff for an effective means of self defense. He handcrafted a small amount of effective hand-grenade. Slowly, one by one, he killed almost everyone he knew as they slowly eventually came by his house. He became quite practiced in the use of his Quarter-staff, and after a month or two he decided to leave. Partly from a lack of food and partly to find someone who wasn't already dead.

Equipment- Metal Quarterstaff,several packs of Ramen, several water bottles, sleeping bag, a hiking backpack. and custom-made hand grenades.

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Username:
Liriia



Character Name:
Jesse Wells
Age:
19
Gender:
Female
Appearance:
A woman with a sharp appearance, Jesse is tall, slim, and lanky. Her skin is pale, face flecked with freckles, and is shaped more like a stick than a woman or man. She has a thin face, messy red hair, and bright blue eyes which always seem to have a sleepy feel to them. With such a well sculpted face and body, it might be obvious that she has a very natural female fatale air to her. Despite her slender body, she is unfit and surprisingly weak, often needing to have a cool down period after psychical movement. Her main advantage is how fast she can run due to her long legs. A faded rose tattoo sits on her right wrist, and her ears are pierced, though one earring is missing. (6'0; 151 lbs.)

Personality:
Jesse is, more times than not, angry. Just imagine a ball of constant stress and annoyance, put a face on it, and you've got the lovely Jesse Wells. Unlike other people, who might talk about their emotions or cry it out, Jesse remains stoic and unnerved, bottling her emotions until she just explodes one day into a full on rant. She will not show weakness, she will not cry. Jesse has always believed there is weakness in such things, and they were not weak. She was strong, courageous, and stubborn, even if she didn't want to be. Growing up with her younger brother and busy parents, Jesse had to learn to be strong to protect herself and her sibling from the terrors of middle-class America, and from this she has also gained a very protective, maternal personality towards those who she considers friends or family.

When not angry, she can be considerably kind, often clinging close to friends and sharing funny childhood stories to lighten the mood, even if her realist brain thinks its not the right time. She enjoys calculation, and is a rather smart, perceptive cookie, often looking much deeper into things then others would. Her thirst for knowledge has also given her a rather reckless streak, especially when her curiosity gets too strong for her to resist. Other than that, she is ridiculously ambitious and stubborn, and always gives her one hundred and ten percent into whatever she does, and she makes up for her lack of physical health with her mental strength (which is still rather unhealthy due to her constant high stress levels.)

Background:

Jesse was born into a middle-class, hard working family on a snowy January night in the restless city of New York. Her life growing up was simple enough; she would play with her dolls while her parents worked, go to school and work twice as hard as any other kid to stay afloat, and constantly question her reason of living and her lack of friends. Pretty much normal for a lonely child. Once their brother was born, they suddenly found a place in the world, and that was protecting this small bundle of joy. She would defend him in school, breaking up fights with her own fists, and despite her bother's constant annoying teasing, Jesse loved him dearly. Family is extremely important to her.

In high school, her parents split suddenly, which effected her deeply. Jesse found that she had slipped into a slight depression, in which she was so unmotivated that she had begun failing classes. Her mother took her to therapy eventually, and they managed to break her out of her shell, revealing her new passion. For science.

Jesse was obviously a smart cookie, especially in biology and environmental sciences. She aspired to be a forensics scientist, though, and wished to be of help to people in whatever way they can be. With her impressive grades in the sciences and math, she managed to get into a relatively good college in Pittsburg. While leaving her mother and brother behind was rather upsetting, she did appreciate her new found freedom.

She easily befriended her new roommate, Debra Jones, and became a rather popular face in her Forensics and Bio classes. College was simple as well, since Jesse was such a try hard when it came to studying.

She manages to sleep around a bit throughout their time in college, never really can hold down a relationship though. Then again, Jesse seems to believe that dating was a distraction for the bigger picture in life, which would be maintaining a perfect picture as a notable and impressive scientist. Still, sex wasn't a bad thing per say, and it helped with her stress.

Woke up on the day the world ended believing she was late for a biology quiz. She escaped from the university after the initial week, in a group of students and professors. They managed to escape Pittsburg, though were slowly picked off, one by one, until only Deb and Jesse were left. They managed to survive together for a few more weeks, scavenging and looting in order to survive, until Debra was finally killed by a few angry thieves. Barely escaping with her life, Jesse ran far, emotionally distraught over loosing her friend and not knowing if her family was okay. She's been alone since.

Throughout her journey, she has had one set goal. One thing that kept her going; Joseph, her baby brother. He could still be out there, scared, alone, and Jesse swore on her life that she would find him. He needed her, and she knew it.

Equipment:
Weapons:

Nightstick (worn)

Crowbar (rusted)

Satchel filled with:

Scavenged Food (canned)

Two Bottles of Water (small)

Forensics and Biology Textbooks

Three Notebooks (half-filled)

Pack of Gum (mint)

General Makeup Items

Other:

College Sweatshirt

Working Watch

Other Notes:
- Has two notebooks full of information on the zombies and their habits. Constantly stops during her travels to take notes on the curious creatures.
- Hates anything that can effect the body, alcohol, drugs, cigarettes. Jesse finds them disgusting.
- Claustrophobic
- Lisensed motorcyclist
- CAN NOT COOK. DO NOT EAT ANYTHING SHE COOKS.

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Username: czechmate46
Character Name: Joseph Reed
Age: 38
Gender: male
Appearance:

Personality: Joseph can be described as a rather reserved and calm man. He is a man of few words and picks his battles. However, as a result of this, he finds that he gets little say in group settings and is ordered around by the other members. He prefers to travel on his own, however he does grow lonesome at times. Before the outbreak, he could be best described as passive aggressive and gentle. Come the outbreak, he was forced to resort to violence which disturbed him greatly. Joseph is a man who is in touch with his thoughts and likes to write them down on paper. Currently, he is scared that he will become a monster with all the killing he is doing. He also scares himself by his increasing aggressiveness. Nonetheless, Joseph is still a gentle giant. Yet he may not remain that way.

Background: Joseph Reed was born to an English professor and a stifled housewife in the city. He had a relatively easy childhood and had a few close friends throughout his years. However, he was constantly living in the shadow of his father. Being the Reed’s only son, Joseph’s father had high and strict expectations of him. Joseph was to go to university right after high school and become a professor just as his father was. This all changed when Joseph was 21, two years into his degree when he met the love of his life. A farm girl named Margaret. She was young, beautiful, and free spirited. Needless to say, Joseph dropped out of school a year later to marry her. They owned a ranch together where Margaret would teach Joseph everything about farming, raising livestock, shooting, and hunting. When Joseph was 25, he and Margaret had a son named Tom. The following 13 years leading up to the outbreak, the Reed’s focussed on being a family and running their ranch.
The virus was delayed in making it’s way to the Reed’s ranch. As they lived out almost in the middle of nowhere in a small rural county, they had heard little of the outbreak. They had no idea it had gotten so out of control or the devastating effects of the virus.
One late afternoon, Joseph and his wife had realized that their son had not yet returned from earlier on that day when he told them he was taking one of the horses for a ride. Margaret insisted that Joseph stay behind while she went to look for him in case Tom came back to the house while she was out. A few hours later, the sky was beginning to darken and now neither Margaret nor Tom had returned to the home. Joseph was beginning to grow anxious and decided to go out and look for them in his truck. He had no avail and returned home hours later. He continued to search the next day. If he did not find them by nightfall, he planned to call the police. In the afternoon, he went to the stable to search by horseback this time. This is when he found his wife and son - but not in the way that he had expected. They frothed at the mouth and staggered about, moaning, appearing to not have any control over their own mind or body. At the sound of Joseph opening the stable door, they attacked him, as well as another undead that was believed to be the one that infected them. How he got into the stable is a mystery. Joseph tried to find some way to subdue them without using his gun but all three were overpowering him and he could tell that they were not of a sound mind. He realized they had the virus he had faintly heard about. He had no choice but to use this gun to lay them to rest. This action still haunts him.
After this altercation, Joseph decided to pack up as many belongings as possible and set out to find help. However, since the virus took so long to reach his ranch, it was quite some time into the out break before he headed out. He started off by vehicle, using his truck. But since the outbreak, gas has become harder and harder to find and the sound of his truck is a magnet to the undead. He is thinking about ditching the truck, seeing as he is nearing his first large city. Since he left his ranch, he has been traveling along the lonely rural roads and passing through farm towns, looking for survivors who are not hostile and grabbing food, supplies, and weapons wherever he can.

Equipment: hunting rifle without ammo, hand gun with ammo, crowbar, journal and pen, truck, wallet, two crates of canned food recently obtained, flask, half carton of cigarettes, lighter, two water jugs, half gallon of gas.

Other Notes: Joseph does smoke, although has slowed down as cigarettes are hard to come by now a days. He is a light drinker. He writes in his journal most nights. He can swim but is not that strong of a swimmer. He does not have any triggers, so to speak, but often sees visions and day dreams of his wife. He is notably strong, as he is a larger build. He has many nature survival skills as well (such as hunting, starting a fire, setting a trap, etc.)

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Username: Enalais
Character Name: Sarah Rand Miller
Age: 31
Gender: Female
Appearance:

Personality: Before the outbreak Sarah was a very outgoing person, she loved meeting new people, she was kind to everyone, she was kind of childish and loved to play jokes and pranks on people. But after the outbreak some of the things that have happened to her have hardened her, she doesn't talk as much anymore, she does not trust men and tries to avoid interaction with them wherever she goes, she's become paranoid and will freak out at the slightest sound, and she has awful night terrors.

Background: Born to a physician and a home maker, Sarah had a pretty easy life growing up. She was provided for and taken care of and that's all any child could ask for, in school she was an excellent, who was very and going and seemingly making friends very easily, this went on all through out all of her years of schooling, she made valedictorian in high school. She was accepted into a university right out of high school where she studied to become a pharmacist.

After graduating and becoming a pharmacist she did her job, she had ungodly hours so she wasn't able to make as many friends. But she was still noted for her kindness. That all changed at the start of the outbreak. She survived on her own for a month, often leaving caches of supplies for survivors to find. But one day a duo of men saw her as a better prize than her loot and took her instead.

They used her as a play thing and a slave. Cleaning up after them, pleasing them, silently planning her escape. Anytime she failed them they would stick her out on the balcony, where they would draw those things to beneath the balcony. They'd leave her out there overnight with the sounds of the infected filling her ears as they tried to climb for her. Eventually the two men slipped up, instead of locking her away in the night they forgot. Using this as a opportunity she took one of their knives and cut them ear from ear. It was the first time she had ever killed anybody that wasn't trying to eat her. But she enjoyed killing the two men even if she didn't get to make them suffer as she had. She took the knife and a few other weapons from the apartment, as well as some much needed supplies and went back into the streets this time avoiding contact with other survivors.

Equipment: Six inch flip knife, .32 Revolver with one bullet left in the chamber, 9mm Glock police issue with half a clip in the gun and a full clip in a bag, anti-biotics/Fever reducers, Iodine water purifying tablets, cough medicine, pain killers, two cans of some sort of soup, and a can of corn.

Other Notes: To become a pharmacists she had to learn how to help people so she has basic doctoral training, she's afraid of small spaces and men, she has night terrors, she can't swim, but she can sing quite beautifully.

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Username: SvenO100
Character Name: Marten ''Michael'' de Vries
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Appearance: (He has short brown hair and light blue eyes and stands at 6'4 tall, he has a fit but thin build with a musculair frame. He tries to keep himself cleanly shaven but is currently sporting a stubble.)


Personality: Manipulative, stubborn and old-fashioned but also sweet, caring and helpfull. Marten's personality tends to change once he has assessed the person he is dealing with. Despite being open minded his old-fashioned personality shines through when meeting people of a different race, he doesn't consider himself a racist but he has racist tendencies that tend to come out during discussions about the subject. As of lately his new uniform has given his confidence and assertiveness a boost, everyone would think twice about messing with a police officer, especially a member of a S.W.A.T team. He generally despises low-lifes, criminials and generally the stupid and uneducated. He has a weakspot for woman though, something a man in these times should not have. He has issues with harming a woman physically and will go out of his way to help a woman in need, even if he endangers his own life in doing so.

His manipulative tedencies tend to come out when dealing with men, especially the type of men he dislikes. He sees these type of people as expendable and attempts to use them for his own purposes. Often by playing along and letting them believe they may be manipulating or using him instead, only to flip the tables when least expected. Deep down he believes the intelligent are ment to survive and the uneducated are only an obstacle in his way that he could momentarily use to further his own goals, whatever those might be at the time. However, his nature to keep his darker side hidden and his ability to wait for the right moment make him seem like the smart, nice and caring guy he is portraying to be, something he really is. But, something he has accepted he can not always be in this current world. This makes him an unpredictable but generally nice person that might suddenly change when his life is endangered.

Background: Marten grew up in in a small town in the northern most province of The Netherlands. His family wasn't necessarily well off, but they weren't doing bad for themselves either. For the most part, his childhood was pretty easy going and he can't really recall any bad memories. Money was never an issue, he didn't get picked on in school and he had plenty of friends. One could hardly ask for a better childhood, he had nothing to complain about.

As an only child, he had the full attention of both of his parents, which led him to excel in school. His parents had not done so well in school when they were younger and they wanted to protect their son from their own mistakes, they taught him to read and write at an early age and always made sure he did his homework and studied for every test. Being a good son and lacking the rebellious nature of some childern at an early age, he followed his parents advice and continued to do his homework and study properly for ever test well into his teens, this behaviour allowed him to skip a year in school and landed him in the highest level of study he could follow at the young age of 11.

His primary interests in high school were History, Biologics, Social Studies, Science and Linguistics, in all of which he excelled. His least favourites subjects were Mathematics and Art, however despite disliking them he did get good grades. His time in High School was good but he sometimes regrets the choices he has made a little, he focused on his studies and homework rather then taking time off to spend with his friends, or girls for that matter. He adopted a sort of lone wolf status, something he kept untill he was older. His time in high school can thus be classified as good but uneventfull, he didn't do anything really fun or exciting, atleast not what other people consider fun and exciting. He never had his first kiss nor had he really done anything wrong.

College was a different experience for him though. Marten decided to follow a study in Virology, that is where he got his first girlfriend. He got more outgoing and social but still required his time alone from time to time. He experienced most things people experience in college, minus the excessive drinking, smoking and possibly doing drugs. He also never got in a fight during his stay there, he always prefered the use of words over violence. Not that he is one of those people that believes in never harming someone. Marten understands that sometimes violence is the only option, a saying in his native language describes that perfectly. ''Wie niet luisteren wilt, moet maar voelen.''

After completing his masters, Marten found work in one of the larger scientific institutions of his country and was eventually selected to work on developing a vaccine for the Ebola virus that had once again shown its face in Africa. He worked together with other scientists from other countries, untill a more dangerous virus appeared on the face of the earth. From the data he had seen the virus originated somewhere in Europe, some speculations blamed the Russians for trying to create and test a dangerous virus that could be used in biological warfare. Whatever the case, the virus spread amongst the high and dense European population like a wildfire. Marten was selected for evacuation by his government and was transported to America during the early stages of infection with hunderds of others specialised in his field.

Once in America, Marten was send to work in one of the facilaties of the Centers for Disease Control. The first week at the center he learned that the traditional Frisian pronounciation of his name wasn't only hard for the Dutch people in his country, but especially for other foreigners. His American colleagues decided another name was required and thus ''Michael'' was born. Unfortunately the location of the center was along the east coast, a location that had already begun showing signs of the infected, and thus a messag arrived detailing that their relocation was required and that a military convoy was on the way. Said military convoy never arrived at its destination and Marten was forced to eventually abandon the location with his colleagues once the power supply ran low, he spend a while together with the group of scientists. During his time with them he came to the conclusion that all but a few of them were relatively new in the filed of Virology and didn't have much other experience. Basically meaning that he and the others were of low importance in the grand scheme of things and thus possibly abandoned because the resources for their evacuation could not be spared.

Surviving provided to be quite troublesome, to say the least. A bunch of men in labcoats certainly don't make a good impression on the crazy and paranoid who assume this virus was the governments doing. Despite overcoming various difficulties he and the other members of the group had a discussion about where to go next, some wanted to stay put and others wanted to head in another direction. Marten eventually decided on going along on his own, leaving the group behind and resuming the lone wolf status he had become so accustomed to in his youth. In the end he decided to lose the labcoat but kept the identification card and some of his notes on the infection hidden in a secret compartment in his backpack.

Marten has been alone ever since seperating from his former colleagues and has entered Summer City a few days prior, where he stumbeled upon an abandoned S.W.A.T police vehicle, all that was left had been a few dead officers in full uniform. One awkward fifteen minute changing session later and he had been transformed into an S.W.A.T member himself, all though much less experienced.

Equipment: Backpack, Identification card CDS, notes on the infection, piece of metal from a destroyed fence post, 1 half full bottle of water, police badge and a full suit of S.W.A.T equipment including the bullet proof vest, SIG Sauer P226, two empty magazines one in the pistol and one in his pocket. Other then that he carries an old cellphone with half its battery life remaining and a wallet with a large amount of cash in it along with his I.D, drivers license and some pictures,

Other Notes: Marten doesn't drink, smoke and doesn't do drugs. He is a very capable swimmer and ice skater. He's also capable of driving a car. He learned to drive using stick so he can drive both stick and automatic should he need to. Marten also has a broad knowledge of languages such as: Dutch, Frisian, German, French, English and Latin. He isn't very athletic though, but he is in good shape. His faint accent may give away that he might not be from America originally.

Username: Eklispe
Name: Michael Tinker
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Appearance
Personality: Michael, or Tinker, as he prefers to be called is very energetic. Hyperactive and excitable while the while zombie apocalypse thing keeps him more subdued than he normally is, he is by no means gloomy. He is very protective of anything he invents. However for all his positive energy Tinker is not very trusting, he acts naive but is well versed in deception and is willing to do anything to survive. He seems to have a darker side to him...

Background: Tinker lived most of his life as a admittedly somewhat energetic, but otherwise average student. Went through school with all B+'s and didn't have a lot of friends except for those who were in the engineering class. The only class that Tinker took any interest in had excelled in. This fueled him ambition to become an inventor and his father's hobbies left all kinds of electronic misfits in the garage. The Garage become his home as soon as school ended. Tinker lived up to his name and created countless miniature device, prototypes, and other useless toys. The only other hobby Tinker indulged in was quite out of nature for his otherwise nerdy skills, boxing. Tinker was a skilled boxer but was never the best, however he did always manage to land a solid silver or bronze at the local tournaments, this gave him a great physical endurance for the upcoming trails.

The zombie virus spread to his town on the same day as his birthday, Tinker was driving his birthday present out of town for it's first test run. When he came back it was already over, the half-hour he had spent driving had been enough time for the town to became corrupted. Tinker drove back into town full of the excitement of having finally driven his own car. Zombies slowly attempted to drag it down and at first Tinker slowed down for them, but as they got closer he saw their rotted bodies and terrified sped up and drove out of town. When night fell he carefully snuck back into his house on the outskirts of town, he retrieved two of his favorite toys from the garage, his taser fists. As he opened the door back into his house, his zombified mother stumbled out, he reflexively punched her in the head, knocking it clean off and killing the brain through electrocution. His father stumbled out after her and suffered the same fate, horrified Tinker simply stood there staring at the bodies. He sat down and simply stared at them. At least an hour later he finally roused himself from his reverie and set to work.

He quickly decided that his Taser Fists were impractical and should only be used as a last resort. He fashioned himself a metal quarter-staff for an effective means of self defense. He handcrafted a small amount of effective hand-grenade. Slowly, one by one, he killed almost everyone he knew as they slowly eventually came by his house. He became quite practiced in the use of his Quarter-staff, and after a month or two he decided to leave. Partly from a lack of food and partly to find someone who wasn't already dead.

Equipment- Metal Quarterstaff,several packs of Ramen, several water bottles, sleeping bag, a hiking backpack. and custom-made hand grenades.

Username:
Liriia



Character Name:
Jesse Wells
Age:
19
Gender:
Female
Appearance:
A woman with a sharp appearance, Jesse is tall, slim, and lanky. Her skin is pale, face flecked with freckles, and is shaped more like a stick than a woman or man. She has a thin face, messy red hair, and bright blue eyes which always seem to have a sleepy feel to them. With such a well sculpted face and body, it might be obvious that she has a very natural female fatale air to her. Despite her slender body, she is unfit and surprisingly weak, often needing to have a cool down period after psychical movement. Her main advantage is how fast she can run due to her long legs. A faded rose tattoo sits on her right wrist, and her ears are pierced, though one earring is missing. (6'0; 151 lbs.)

Personality:
Jesse is, more times than not, angry. Just imagine a ball of constant stress and annoyance, put a face on it, and you've got the lovely Jesse Wells. Unlike other people, who might talk about their emotions or cry it out, Jesse remains stoic and unnerved, bottling her emotions until she just explodes one day into a full on rant. She will not show weakness, she will not cry. Jesse has always believed there is weakness in such things, and they were not weak. She was strong, courageous, and stubborn, even if she didn't want to be. Growing up with her younger brother and busy parents, Jesse had to learn to be strong to protect herself and her sibling from the terrors of middle-class America, and from this she has also gained a very protective, maternal personality towards those who she considers friends or family.

When not angry, she can be considerably kind, often clinging close to friends and sharing funny childhood stories to lighten the mood, even if her realist brain thinks its not the right time. She enjoys calculation, and is a rather smart, perceptive cookie, often looking much deeper into things then others would. Her thirst for knowledge has also given her a rather reckless streak, especially when her curiosity gets too strong for her to resist. Other than that, she is ridiculously ambitious and stubborn, and always gives her one hundred and ten percent into whatever she does, and she makes up for her lack of physical health with her mental strength (which is still rather unhealthy due to her constant high stress levels.)

Background:

Jesse was born into a middle-class, hard working family on a snowy January night in the restless city of New York. Her life growing up was simple enough; she would play with her dolls while her parents worked, go to school and work twice as hard as any other kid to stay afloat, and constantly question her reason of living and her lack of friends. Pretty much normal for a lonely child. Once their brother was born, they suddenly found a place in the world, and that was protecting this small bundle of joy. She would defend him in school, breaking up fights with her own fists, and despite her bother's constant annoying teasing, Jesse loved him dearly. Family is extremely important to her.

In high school, her parents split suddenly, which effected her deeply. Jesse found that she had slipped into a slight depression, in which she was so unmotivated that she had begun failing classes. Her mother took her to therapy eventually, and they managed to break her out of her shell, revealing her new passion. For science.

Jesse was obviously a smart cookie, especially in biology and environmental sciences. She aspired to be a forensics scientist, though, and wished to be of help to people in whatever way they can be. With her impressive grades in the sciences and math, she managed to get into a relatively good college in Pittsburg. While leaving her mother and brother behind was rather upsetting, she did appreciate her new found freedom.

She easily befriended her new roommate, Debra Jones, and became a rather popular face in her Forensics and Bio classes. College was simple as well, since Jesse was such a try hard when it came to studying.

She manages to sleep around a bit throughout their time in college, never really can hold down a relationship though. Then again, Jesse seems to believe that dating was a distraction for the bigger picture in life, which would be maintaining a perfect picture as a notable and impressive scientist. Still, sex wasn't a bad thing per say, and it helped with her stress.

Woke up on the day the world ended believing she was late for a biology quiz. She escaped from the university after the initial week, in a group of students and professors. They managed to escape Pittsburg, though were slowly picked off, one by one, until only Deb and Jesse were left. They managed to survive together for a few more weeks, scavenging and looting in order to survive, until Debra was finally killed by a few angry thieves. Barely escaping with her life, Jesse ran far, emotionally distraught over loosing her friend and not knowing if her family was okay. She's been alone since.

Throughout her journey, she has had one set goal. One thing that kept her going; Joseph, her baby brother. He could still be out there, scared, alone, and Jesse swore on her life that she would find him. He needed her, and she knew it.

Equipment:
Weapons:

Nightstick (worn)

Crowbar (rusted)

Satchel filled with:

Scavenged Food (canned)

Two Bottles of Water (small)

Forensics and Biology Textbooks

Three Notebooks (half-filled)

Pack of Gum (mint)

General Makeup Items

Other:

College Sweatshirt

Working Watch

Other Notes:
- Has two notebooks full of information on the zombies and their habits. Constantly stops during her travels to take notes on the curious creatures.
- Hates anything that can effect the body, alcohol, drugs, cigarettes. Jesse finds them disgusting.
- Claustrophobic
- Lisensed motorcyclist
- CAN NOT COOK. DO NOT EAT ANYTHING SHE COOKS.