One year after the infection broke out, the survivors of the catastrophe tried to start to rebuild all over the world, even under the ever looming threat of the Walkers. The new communities started to pop up in a number of different places. Some fortified Towns and estates, some moved into sports stadiums, prisons, high schools, high rise buildings, any number of places the people believed they could secure and try and build a life there. The town centre of Dana Point was one of the places that had become a home for around a hundred people who had successfully kept it safe. The town was safe, with only a few Walkers a day threatening Dana Point. Until today when a herd of Walkers that had moved South from Los Angeles looking for meat had destroyed nearly everything in their path, only leaving a few survivors who were now on the move, looking for a new Safe Haven.
Welcome to The Walking Dead: Safe Haven! The main aim to this RP is for the group to look for somewhere safe to live and start to build a life there, the group will continue to run into situations that they have to overcome as they move towards their goal. Your character can either start off as someone from the remaining group from the attack on Dana Point. Also you can start a new group or a person alone who runs into the survivors of Dana Point.
Rules
The usual rules apply but I’ll write some up just to be clear.
The characters should be realistic and should not be able to do everything under the sun. If your character get’s into an impossible situation, they’re going to die.
Don’t control someone else's character.
You should be writing at least two paragraphs a post and make sure you re-read it for any mistakes.
Try and get at least two posts up a week. If there’s reason why you can’t just let us know.
If your character gets into a romantic situation with another character, fade it to black.
You can have up to two characters that you can control.
Don’t control somebody else’s character.
The youngest your character can be is ten.
Also be respectful and have fun!
Character Sheet
Please use this character sheet when creating your character. There doesn't have to be a minimum amount of words you have to write here.
Name:
Gender:
Age:
Birthplace:
Appearance: (Picture or a written description is okay.)
Personality:
Occupation before the breakout:
Skills: (Maximum six)
Fears/incompetencies: (minimum three)
Equipment:
Group: (What group your character is with or if they're on there own.)
History:
Name: Ethan Blackledge
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Birthplace: Leeds, England
Appearance:
Ethan is six foot and has a good physical body. He has dirty blonde hair that he keeps to a medium length and is usually messy on top. He has a slight beard. The usual clothes he wears are a thick cotton t shirt, with grey cargo pants and dark walking boots. If he’s out he’ll usually have a navy blue sailors coat on, since it’s started getting colder, he wears a grey hoody underneath it.
Personality: Ethan is a very laid person, even after the outbreak. He daydreams a lot thinking about his life before, keeping himself smiling. Ethan also likes to try and keep peoples morale up in the group, it usually takes a lot for him to get angry or violent.
Occupation before the breakout: Construction worker.
Skills:
Can construct houses from his previous job, makes him useful for knowing how to build different things like stable defences and repairs.
Has been practising with the bow since being at Dana Point, so he knows how to use a bow but isn’t truly amazing with it yet.
He can usually befriend someone pretty quick who he doesn’t know through his charm alone.
Naturally good at driving.
Fears/incompetencies:
He doesn’t know how to live off the land, so he can’t make fires without a lighter and doesn’t know how to hunt.
He is claustrophobic
Being alone.
Equipment: In his rucksack he has: ten different types of canned food, a two litre bottle of water and a packet of paracetamol, antibiotics and pain killers. There’s also a compass and a map in it. Attached to the bottom of the rucksack is a sleeping bag and to the side a wooden compound bow with thirty iron arrows. Dangling from his belt is a steel hatchet.
Group: Dana Point group.
History: Ethan grew up in Leeds and when he finished High school at sixteen, he went on to become an apprentice as a construction worker. As soon as he turned seventeen he started to drive and loved it. His job on the over hand he wasn’t crazy about it, but he was good at it so Ethan continued to work there. When Ethan turned eighteen he decided to start saving up to go on a road trip of America. For five years he continued to work and save up until he had enough money. When he was twenty three he booked a plane to Florida and rented a car, after that he travelled all over the place.
Whilst travelling from Las Vegas to Los Angeles, the news broke out on the radio about the infection, luckily Ethan was miles away from any major city and missed it. He ended up driving south when he got into California and ended finding survivors who had managed to survive by hiding in the buildings of the town centre of Dana Point. At the time he got there, the virus hadn’t really hit the town hard because of the small population. They continued to stay there and built a wall around the area they lived in. Different people came and went over the months. Until one morning in October when the sun had just rose up and more than a thousand Walkers were moving towards Dana Point, they had no chance to survive it. By the time the lookouts managed to wake everyone up, the Walkers were breaking down the walls and killing anyone in sight. Ethan managed to grab his rucksack that he kept for emergencies and managed to get out with some more people through the south gate. They’re currently heading east.
She usually wears her uncles green flannel (its her good luck charm) over her tank tops, she always has on jeans and hiking boots
Personality: Smart, Observant, Stubborn, Persistent, Strong, a bit of a hot head
Occupation before the breakout: School and sports (Archery and softball mostly) and during the Apocolypse she was a helper to most people (except for doing laundry)
Skills: Like I said in her "occupation" she is good with a bow and she has a killer swing with a bat, she has very good at using whatever she has around to her own needs or others.
Fears: Silence, Clowns, and big muscled men with suits (long story)
Equipment: Backpack with water, some jerky, a can of corn and a knife her now deceased uncle gave her. Her softball bat and a bow with no arrows and last her soft ball.
Group: currently on her own
History: Camyllia was born in a barn (literally) and was named after her grandmother. She grew up in her down-home town of Nicholasville until she was 6 and was moved to Capistrano Beach with her uncle after her parents went bankrupt. She lived there happily until the apocalypse broke out she lost her uncle on a run but was able to get to the center of Dana Point. Camyllia was the kid that would help load for supply runs and unload the stuff from supply runs as well she basically became everyone's little helper as best she can anyway. When Dana Point got attack she watched some of her friends get eaten before finally doing something. She had ran to a store she was staying at and grabbed her stuff before booking it out of the death trap.
Name Krystal Marsh - formerly. Ten Thousand - currently Gender Cis Female Age 17 Birthplace Sheridan Montana Previous Occupation High School Drop-Out | Hunter Personality Before the apocalypse, Krystal was quiet, but never as quiet as she is now. She doesn't speak very much, letting her actions speak for her, though she doesn't often have someone to talk to. More often than not she's memorizing everything she can, counting her steps wherever she goes and learning the tells of those around her. She pretty to look at some days, but not exactly an approachable person, seeing as you're more likely to get shot than talk to her. A locked vault, she carries secrets as if they could save her life - in which some cases they can - and rarely speaks about herself. The hope in her eyes is dying, her willingness to forgive. Her disgust in humanity was bad before, it getting worse the mosre people she see's. If she was the last woman on Earth, she wouldn't give a damn. In a world where it's all about seeing tomorrow, there's no one more important than herself. Fuck the moral compass. Occupation before the breakout High school student
Skills
Huntress; Krystal, having been born into a rougher life than most, learned how to fend for herself at an early age. She understands nature, the balance and hunting better than she understands most people. She is capable of building snares, and tracking down prey animals.
Accuracy; Over her life she has learned a variety of ranged weapons, including Sniper Rifles, Bows and Slingshots. It's rare that she misses her target either, as how evenly she times it with the wind.
Observation & Calculations; Gifted in mathematics and psychology, this young woman has a gift for learning, but mental math is her specialty. She knows at a touch how fast the wind is going, at a sight how large something is. It has always been a skill of her own, though not one she oft used outside of hunting. She counts when under pressure or anxious.
Auto-mechanics; Her older brother made it out of their home, working at an auto-shop where he taught her all he could about cars, trucks and everything else that moved on wheels. This was how her love of motorcycles was born.
Sleight of Hand; Growing up as a thief, she has mastered the illusion and discretion of thievery. Picking locks, pick-pocketing etc, fall beneath her skill tree.
Fears
Thunder; As a child, most of the traumatic events in her life happened either on rainy days or with voices that later thunder would remind her of. She enjoys the rain, and loves watching the clouds and lightning - it's the sound that she fears.
Trust; Krystal finds it difficult to trust other people, especially with her own safety and equipment. As well when someone trusts her she feels the intense urge to destroy that trust - often she succeeds.
Failure; "Failure is not an option"
Equipment
Compound Hunting Bow
Crossbow
Arrow Quiver: 27 Arrows
Bowie knife & Sheath
Barrett .50 Cal Sniper Rifle
Flatbed Pick-Up Truck with Bed Cover
A box of assorted food
Two(2) jars of Peanut Butter
One(1) jar of strawberry jam
Two(2) jars of raspberry jam
Three(3) cans of tomato soup
One(1) can of beans
One(1) box of generic brand salted crackers
One Half(1/2) box of stale gram crackers
Four(4) cans of corn
One(1) sealed bag of trail mix
Ten(10) cans of various canned meat
Two(2) pounds of fresh fruit picked from bushes recently found
One(1) container of powdered milk
One(1) box of granola bars
Nine(9) bottles of Gatorade
One(1) one liter(1L) water bottle - currently full
Two(2) cans of pineapple
Five(5) cans of coconut milk
Three-Quarters(3/4) bottle of olive oil
Seven(7) boxes of cereal - all kind of stale
Ten(10) feet of steel chain
Three(3) gas canisters
Two-man tent
A dufflebag of clothes
Two(2) bathtowels
One(1) bottle of body wash
Three(3) jugs moonshine & two(2) bottles of vodka
A woodcutting Hatchet
Group Loner [center]History
The young woman passed by the front of the church, haired pulled back in a loose ponytail, jeans stained with grass and blood, holes in the knees. Her gaze was downcast, avoiding looking at the people gathered in front of the building. She didn't want their scorning looks to be met. Ignore them, she told herself, but every Sunday she could feel their judgmental gazes following her as she passed by the front of the building. Perhaps she could have taken a different route, or gone out on a different day, but it was the most efficient path to the marketplace. The animal corpse slung over her shoulder, dead but not broken, clean save for a single thing: it's left eye was missing. This time it was a fox. Last week it had been three rabbits. The week before that a young doe. Whatever it was that she carried, it was her dinner that night and money in her pocket. She turned a corner, soft pale green eyes lifting as the religious folk lost sight of her, her pace slacking. She was not beaten, not truly. Not by them. It would only be a little while before she could leave home finally. Only a little longer until she was free. --- The rev of the engine alerted her to the presence of a man outside. Not just any man. Her Brother. He was here? Why? She looked out the small window, broken as it was, to see him loading things into his truck. He called her name, but she didn't respond right away. Taking a quick glance back at the locked bedroom door she called over to him. He ran to her window, not wanting to alert their parents - assuming they were awake and sober. He looked concerned about something, though she couldn't see what it was before he thrust a dagger into her hand. "I'll be back at midnight. Stay safe." --- She looked out the window, seeing the full moon high in the sky. Not quite midnight. Kyle was never late. Head snapped to the side at the sound of a latch coming undone, the door violently swinging open. She never heard the words that came out of the mans mouth, only saw the fist he made and felt it smash into the side of her face. Why would he come back? She was already locked inside! She must have blacked out at the next hit, because when she opened her eyes the man was on top of her, her clothes torn. He was fucking her already. Tears stung her eyes, a cry in the back of her throat. She would not give him that victory. She bit her tongue, fingers digging into the sheets. She smelled moonshine on his breath again. He looked at her, saw her defiance, hit her harder and flipped her onto her stomach, pinning her against the mattress. He shoved her face into the pillow. Every thrust pushed her closer to the edge, wanting to die, to stop feeling anything. His grip relaxed, her hands slipping free. He grunted. She faked a moan she knew he would like. Her hand dipped beside the bed, fingers finding the handle of the knife her brother had left her. Finally. Freedom. --- A gunshot woke her again. Another one. Wet. Sticky. Warm. Pain. She must have passed out. Eyelashes stuck to her cheeks, blood dried on her naked skin. Blinking open her eyes she saw her brother in the doorway, an old shotgun in hand. Sawed off. Old. His first? Dazed, everything was hazy. Concussion maybe? After that there was nothing until two days later. --- The apocalypse swept straight through Sheridan, it's small population of approximately 600 people, wiped out in less than two hours. Krystal and Kyle were at their home, not far from the edge of the town, but nothing noticed them there with their fathers rotting corpse by the highway. There wasn't much food in the house, but a lot of tobacco and moonshine and guns. It was a good supply. They were smart about how they used it, and never left the house alone. After a month gathering what they could get to from the more fortunate homes of the small town, they hit the road. --- It was a year before they trusted anyone to be near them. That trust cost Kyle his life, and Krystal her humanity. She drank heavily when she knew she was safe. She hated herself for living. Hated those who killed her brother. In the end she hunted them down to, killing them. She never gave them mercy. Krystal moved on, never staying in one place long, taking what she could. Unfortunately, she no longer trusted anyone, or anything. It's a world of liars and killers; honesty and honor dead with Kyle.
Personality: Polite, Selfish, Dishonest, Quick spoken, Witty, Kindhearted towards children, Completely terrified of child walkers.
Occupation before the breakout: Unemployed College Graduate with a PHD in psychology.
Skills: -Deft hands -Good aim -Moderate knowledge of medicine, and medical practices -Comprehensive knowledge of first aid practices -Comprehensive knowledge of psychology, and therapeutic practices -Especially convincing in social situations, and very skilled at reading other individuals
Fears: -Children that have turned -Contracting deadly illnesses (Generalized Anxiety disorder) -Random noises that cannot be discerned (Generalized Anxiety disorder) -Spiders, Centipedes, and many other bugs -Being alone
Equipment: -A healthy supply of Gauze [6 Rolls] -Antibiotics for treating common infections [2 bottles -15 tablets ea.-] -Antibiotics for treating serious infection [1 bottle -60 mL-] -A glass syringe -Sterile needles wrapped in plastic [3 Needles] -Several cans of tuna [6 cans] -Backpack -A 5 inch hunting knife held in a holster that he ties around his waist -A Glock 19 9mm Pistol with a 15 round clip. -Extra handgun rounds [1 Box -37 Rounds-] -A silencer for his handgun
Group: With the main group.
History: Born in his hometown of Peniche, Alex is not a native English speaker, which made his PHD that much more of a trial to obtain when his family moved to north america. Forced to work his way through the education as an underprivileged Portuguese immigrant, Alex excelled despite his thick accent and problems interacting with his peers. The years were not kind to him, but that didn't stand in his way, and he was fortunate enough to obtain his degree after several years of hard work. Unfortunately, before he could even obtain a job in the city, the outbreak shattered his hopes and dreams like a brick through his window.
He keeps quiet about his family situation, but most would assume that everyone he knows has already been killed, since he's practically on his own now. Alex clings to whoever he can, hoping that one day, this menace will come to an end.
@ViolentViolet You can only have the knife and one of those weapons, your character would be a bit over powered and she probably wouldn't be able to carry all the weapons, when you've changed that and added your history, you should be good! :)
@josephb I would like to do something I have never done before. Since you're the GM I would like to see if its alright with you. I would like to do a character that's almost exactly like Jekyll and Hyde. Though I may put the last names in there somehow. Now she won't have enhancement expect being good at running due to being on track. Is it okay with you? Her darker side will come out if she is in danger or extremely mad.
