Adair (Addie) Carter
24
Addie is not the type of person to share her past. When the apocalypse hit, she was with a group of friends, watching a movie in the city. She didn't know what came over her, but something told her to leave them behind. And she did. She got up out of her chair and left her friends in the theater as the zombies poured in through the doors. She ran through the emergency exit and found some supplies, and now she's holed up in a small library at the edge of the city.
She found some decent hunting knives in a pawn shop and she stole a gun from a dead cop. She hasn't used it, and she doesn't really know how to.

NICKNAME(S)
this list will be added on to as he gets them :P
> Matt
> Barrett

AGE
22

BIO
He was having a two man party at a bar with a friend (James) when the outbreak started. When the warnings and evacuation notices started to pop up on their phones, he was the one that was more relaxed, thinking it wasn't anything to worry about, really - he'd just have to be careful getting home is all. Only when some "crazies" ran in and started biting people did he and James run out of the bar - thank God they weren't drunk, right? When it came time to evacuate to one of the safe-zones that were put up, James went to the safe zone alone - Matthew thought he could run home to his apartment, get some things from there, then come back. He did the first two things successfully with very little trouble, but when he located the safe zone, it was too late. The safe zone wasn't safe anymore.

In his emotional state, he fled BACK to his apartment and did every possible thing he could to make it a fortress.. that didn't last very long. One got in, and he was forced to kill them. After he rightfully freaked the fuck out about killing someone, he decided he shouldn't be so deep in the city. He got his keys and fled to the outskirts in his car.. but that plan had backfired just like his last. He didn't have very much gas, y'see, so he's on his way to a small town outside of the city. On foot.

WEAPONS/EQUIPMENT/ACCESSORIES
Walther P-22: Birthday gift from James - he's had to do some trial and error figuring out how to use it correctly. This is his main weapon.
He's still got 21 bullets - the only shots he's fired were to the zombie that got past his "impenetrable" defenses at his apartment.
Messanger Bag: Got it himself for college so he wouldn't be walking around campus looking like a high-schooler. Has more wear-and-tear than shown in the picture. Would probably be a good impromptu "blindfold" thing.
The bag has another set of clothes, his cellphone (and charger), a reusable bottle, a small pad of paper (along with pencils - good for both stabbing someone in the eye, and doodling), and a book to read when he's forced to stay in one place.. or bash on someone's head. Whichever comes first, really.
Silver Digital Wristwatch: Another gift from James. It doubles as both a useful time keeping device as well as being a sentimental item.

EXTRA INFO
He's still not used to the fact that, if he wants to keep surviving, he has to kill people. He'd prefer to avoid a fight if he can.

TEXT COLOR
0072bc

Age
29

Alternate nicknames
Dudly do diddly squat
Callahan
Waster

Biography
Alex comes across as somebody that looks professional and like somebody whom knows how to use a gun. He is not.

"I'm a soldier...well, no. I was a militiaman for the city! Um...okay fine I was part of the neighborhood watch with my brothers and my girlfriend and we kept the gangs off of the streets. We never killed anybody, we just used rubber bullets...YES I'VE KILLED A FEW DOZEN ZOMBIES."

Before the outbreak, he was a member of his home street's neighborhood watch. He and his friends all took firearms classes together and shot at the range every day they could while also simultaneously keeping gangs out of their neighborhood. With crime ramping up every day, Alex and his friends were on edge in their four man and one woman war on the gangs of the world. But when the zombie infestation broke out and he watched his brother rip open his girlfriend's throat, things just spiraled downward from there. He tried hitting up various friends in the outskirts of the city, but most were dead or pretended he didn't exist.

Though at the time he had only a POS glock in hand, a few military soldiers that had succumbed to the zombies and, when Alex took them down, he found standard issue G3 rifles and more than enough ammunition to stuff into his pockets. He even found riot police armor and a gas mask as he was scavenging one night.

Weeks later however and he was already being mentally eradicated, having lost a lot of the humor in his eyes as he had to use both rifle and a baseball bat he filled with spikes to put down zombies where he can in a mostly vain attempt to help people. Many times he was far too late with those he was trying to help having died already or were already close to death when he finally got the zombies off of them. He tended to show up at the worst of times and has even been shot a few times because of it.

Now from the mid-city, he's trying to make his way towards the outskirts of town and help what little survivors are left. He hates killing with a vengeance but will do what he must at this point just to survive and try and make days a little brighter for the last remaining survivors.

Equipment
An old, Leather satchel that belonged to his girlfriend. He keeps various bits of ammunition, food, and water inside but not much else. He tries to stay as light on his feet as he can.

A police issue Gas mask. Having found it on a riot officer, it, and the armor, give him that little bit of extra courage and hope for survival when they most likely don't do nearly as much as he hopes they do.

A gray Baseball bat with spikes hammered through it that he uses only when absolutely necessary. When not in use, he'll slip it under his satchel's flap in a makeshift sheath.

An old silver pocket watch that helps him retain his sanity.

A green flask with a golden symbol on the front. Current contents: Nearly full of Irish cream

Extra info
Face without his gas mask
Face without grime