Name: Renee Meir

Nickname: None as of yet, but maybe she'll get one.

Age: 19

Gender: Female

Nationality: American

Appearance: Average height, about 5'7". Not fat, but she is on the chubby, 'I'm extra huggable' side (About 170?). Pale complexion, freckles everywhere. Freckle explosion. Her hair is thick and wavy, cut to her shoulders, and a dark brown. Usually it's pulled all the way back into a high ponytail. Her eyes are a similar brown. One of her eyebrows is naturally a bit higher than the other, so she always looks a bit amused or skeptical. She's got a bunch of tiny scars on her right arm and one on her chin. She has a tattoo of an outline of a twenty-sided die on her left collarbone.


In-Depth Personality: Renee is largely independent and logical. Or so she'd like to think. She truly can't grasp her own mind the way some others may be able to, and escapes this problem by reading. She avoids conflict by ignoring it completely or running away, unless forced into a situation where she needs to deal with it. She's intelligent and enjoys learning. When around new people, she's often awkward and quiet, to a nearly painful degree. She prefers watching and listening when in unfamiliar settings. She goes into every situation with an alarming amount of distrust for the people around her.

Character background: Renee grew up in a trailer park just outside of Minneapolis, Minnesota. It was a nice trailer park, though. Only a couple of meth labs.

She was the youngest in her family, with one full-blooded sister, and three half siblings that lived on the other side of the country. Growing up without much money was never an issue for her, but she'd always wanted to go camping. Her best friend's father was a survival nut and taught her just about everything she needed to know on how to rough it in the woods.

She tried to keep away from the other kids, and preferred reading books to getting high. Kids bullied her and used her, and she only made one or two close friends. School was problematic, even if she had above-average scores. Things kept going in much the same way until high school. She read so much that they actually banned her from bringing books to school. She dropped out in her senior year and got a job in fast food.

She had a plan, unlike a lot of drop-outs. She wasn't ashamed to live with her parents or pay rent to them. Dropping out was just a way to start her life. She wanted to be a pastry chef and open the first cat cafe in Minneapolis with her best friend. She was thinking about attending a college in Toronto.

Equipment: A small purse (A bit smaller than a messenger bag): One half-used bottle of Advil; a wallet with a few dollars and some change; a fantasy novel, the spine worn; A box of band-aids, ten left; and half a bottle of soda.
A medium backpack: Toiletries; two sets of clothes; another book (survival tips); a small fire-starting kit; some food; a few pens and a notebook; a half-broken, mostly unreliable umbrella.
Clothes: Jeans (blue/white), double-layered (blue, blue-green) tank tops, dark grey winter hoodie, some ugly black winter boots. And a fake dragon tooth necklace that she never, ever removes.

Weapons: Her dad's a crazy medieval weapons collector, and she inherited that obsession. She has this wicked-looking knife that probably belongs at a Ren-fest. About forearm-length.

Name: Sergeant Vincent Georges Griffon

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Nationality: Québécois / French-Canadian

Appearance:

Pictured: Vincent and his search dog, Roman, a German Shepherd. Vincent is rarely seen without his co-worker and most trusted companion. He doesn’t have a single piercing, tattoo, or facial hair on him. His eyes are a dull grey, seemingly tired and simultaneously full of ambition. His back is marked with a few scars and permanent blemishes.

In-Depth Personality: Sergeant Griffon is a flexible, constantly adapting officer. He knows when he holds all of the cards, but has never been one to show them or play unless he thinks it absolutely necessary. Vincent has always been an optimist and grew up as that boy who knew from his earliest school years that he wanted nothing more than a uniform and to say he helped people every single day. Rarely does he stick to or make a fully cohesive plans. After all, he strongly believes in the ‘life is what happens when you’re too busy making other plans’ line and refuses to overthink any situation. This doesn’t mean he lacks the ability to strategize or wait for the right moment to act, it simply states that when he sees an opportunity that would help him, he will take it.

Character background: There have been few with whom Vincent has spoken to about his very early childhood, but each scar tells the story of a boy raised in an unpleasant district of Moscow. His father was a discharged soldier with a drinking problem and his mother worked long hours. The situation was a rotten one, no doubt, but when he showed up to school in third grade with yet another black eye that he couldn’t explain without tearing up through the lie, the friends and other members of the family finally got involved. Nobody knew that Mr. Griffon’s problem had gotten so out of hand and Vince’s grandparents took him and his mother into their home in Vancouver. The cross country move was a lot for such a young boy, and honestly he had no idea what was really happening back then either, he just knew that his mother promised that life would get better if he would just do what she said.

Sergeant Griffon went to college for two years in Vancouver to stay close to his family, but Canada is large and they knew it wouldn’t last. He was too ambitious and when he got accepted to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, they saw him off to the Academy. After showing his ability to work loyally and under pressure in Toronto, they let him apply for and transfer to the Police Dog Services unit, where he was taught to work with and care for his new, still-a-puppy companion: Roman.

After the dog’s training was complete, he was grown and the pair were inseparable. Work started surprisingly slowly in his new unit, still located in Toronto. He was shocked, honestly, after being told it had potential to be a lot more dangerous than his previous station. However, when things began to pick up, they really started working. Cars were flooding the borders, so then-Caporal Griffon was moved to help with car searching. There were so many, they couldn’t search them all, but Vince’s take-charge attitude and ability to tell people things that they didn’t want to hear made him stand out. He made Sergeant just before the evacuation.

Next came the hard part… Sergeant Griffon followed his unit back to the city and the force worked hard through the night for barely a couple of days to get the city evacuated. The border was abandoned – at this point, they just wanted everybody on this dying planet safe so they posted signs and left countless maps in the open guard booths marking the location that they were evacuating all of the citizens. There was going to be a military base up North, but when his ride was heading out, Vince refused. He wanted to make sure that everybody who wanted to get out did. He’d be following only a couple of days later, he assured them.

Now, he’s just got to get his own affairs together and meet them back up North. He sent his uniform and most of his things up, keeping only what he needed to travel – including his badge, ID, and equipment.

Other: Vincent grew up in a French-speaking home and it is his primary language. He can understand English, more or less, and has a working knowledge of how to use it but he is hardly comfortable in it.

Equipment:
> Backpack
> S&W 5946 – 9mm, 2 magazines (10 rounds each)
> A box of approximately 50 rounds (9mm)
> Colt Canada C7 Rifle – 2 magazines (30 rounds each), no spare ammunition
> Tac-Force Pocket Knife, flashlight attached
> A couple of days of preserved foods and bottled water, dog food
> Hip holster for his pistol and magazines, the rifle is strapped to his back
> A Black Hoodie
> Hiking Boots
> Sunglasses
> Wallet and Badge
> A harness and leash for Roman, though he does not often use it unless required

Weapons:
> Colt Canada C7 Rifle, 2 magazines (30 rounds)
> S&W 9mm pistol, 2 magazines, 50 spare rounds
> Tac-Force Spring-Assisted pocket knife with flashlight

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Roman:

German Shepherd, Male, 3 years old
Specialties – Pursuit and detention, defense, drug sniffing
Weaknesses – Does not know how to hunt, refuses to approach the dead; absolutely terrified (scent, movement, every sense feels inhuman and as an atrocity) and confused around them

_{**By putting this CS up in the OOC for approval, you have read all of the rules and have agreed to have fun. Welcome to the RP, my friend :)**}