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Name: He calls himself Kaden. He never tells his last name to anyone, and it's unclear whether or not he even knows what it is.

Sex: Male

Age: Even he doesn't know. He looks young, maybe 10 or 11 at the oldest.

Gender: Male.

Appearance:


Personality: Kaden is morally depraved, but rarely intentionally malicious. Though he has no qualms scavenging human corpses, he would never kill someone who trusted him. He steals to get what he needs to survive and is often unaware of whom he's stealing from, but he would just as quickly give his contraband away to someone who needed it more than he did. In short, he'll lie and steal and kill to stay alive, but somehow seems to be trying to be nice about it.
He's loyal in nature, but has difficulties maintaining companionships because of his extreme impulsivity and lack of social tact. His emotions tend to be hyperbolic to the situation, often vastly overreacting to small things.
He rarely speaks, communicating mostly through gesture and facial expressions. This is more likely to be a symptom of some underlying mental condition than actual mutism. When he does speak, he often speaks too loudly and in strange intonations. He has a very noticeable South English accent, indicating that he's likely from Britain.
He gets bored very easily and has a very short attention span. If he feels like he's being ignored, he'll often just wander off to find a source of entertainment without alerting anyone of his departure.
By surviving for over a year out on his own in the streets, he's proven to be very clever for his age (well, whatever age he is) and skilled in finding resources and general craftiness.

Short Bio: In times like these, nobody really cares to launch large scale investigations into the origins of random street rats. All that's known is that he's been living on his own for quite a while now. Food is scarce, so he's joined the others in cannibalism, as well as picking off the rats, pigeons and squirrels that still roam the streets. He's quite fast and has so far managed to avoid the risks of dying of exposure or infection. If he were any weaker, slower or dumber, he would have been dead years ago. Not being afraid to delve into raiding and cannibalism definitely helped along the way.

Weapons: A collection of sharp things he's scavenged from the streets. Everything from corkscrews to sharpened bones to surgical scalpels. He also has a slingshot.

Equipment:
-Leather suitcase
-Lighter
-Bottle of chloroform
-30 feet of rope
-Paper and 3 pens
-a pair of green knitted gloves
-Usually some sort of food.
-Slingshot ammunition (rocks, marbles, small animal skulls, etc)

Other: He seems to understand American Sign Language very well.

Name: Rick Foundry.

Sex: Male.

Age: 19-24.

Gender: Male.

Appearance:

But much dirtier and less attractive, of course.

Rick goes for a traditional cool guy greaser look, with these glasses and bright orange hair. He's thin, but muscular, often surprising others with how strong his wirey frame is. His black, leather biker jacket is tattered and worn, but still holds up well and displays the flaming design stitched into it with pride.

Personality: Rick comes off as rude and arrogant; he plays into the 'tough guy' character, mostly as a way to ignore his various psychological issues. While he claims he'd rather go off and survive by himself, his greatest fear is being along. He feels the need to brag nigh constantly and bully others to deal with his own low self esteem, but is careful not to anger anyone enough to kick him out of the group, and would probably come crawling back in tears if that was to happen. He dearly appreciates his friends, but would rather they think of him as a tough, rude asshole than a real friend. Also, he's obsessed with fire.

Short Bio: Rick grew up a decrepit metal foundry, with the rest of the Foundry 'family'. In reality, they were more of a cult that worshiped fire and heat. There, he grew very dependent on his family to survive. One day, returning from a scouting mission with a few others, they found one of them had forgotten to secure the foundry's defenses, and all inside had killed by cannibals. The group turned on themselves, and only a few escaped the resulting brawl. For the next few years, Rick wandered the wastes alone, babbling insanely as he only barely hung on to his humanity- and life. After being rescued by a few others, he somewhat recovered mentally, but left them to not be known only as a recovered lunatic. From there, he probably connected with the Rochester Crew.

Weapons: A singed baseball bat, specially treated to catch fire easily and burn slowly.

Equipment:
-A small black duffel bag.
-A large collection of lighters, butane torches, and any other fire-related items he's found over the years.
-A bottle or two of liquor.
-A few cans of food and bottles of water.

Other:
He has a terrible phobia of water in significant amounts. He can stand to drink it, but he hates light rains, and is rendered inconsolable by heavy rain and water bodies like ponds, swimming pools, ect.

The only way he can cook anything is putting it near fire until it starts to burn, and eating that.

He doesn't fear death, but only if he dies while on fire.

In combat situations, he soaks his baseball bat in a bit of alcohol and lights it ablaze.

Name: Ajit Joshi

Sex: Male

Age: 21

Gender: Male

Appearance: The picture above is what Ajit would look like if there had not been an apocalypse a few hundred years before his birth. His hair is a lot messier and the glasses that he wears, are not modern and neat, they are dusted, slightly cracked and held together with a horrendously dirty layer of tape. He does typically tend to wear shirts, as opposed to t-shirts, but this is just a matter of convenience, as they are the item of clothing most people seem to leave behind.

Personality:Despite the obviously bleak circumstances, Ajit seems to have an air of optimism. Indeed, he will go as far to make jokes about the situation he is in, which a lot of other people would not do. It was probably just how he was raised. But past this, he isn't the bravest soul on the planet. He'll try his best when confronted, but will usually take the easy way out, the cowardice's way - running. It is one of his great shames in life, this cowardice nature, as what happened due to it a while ago always fills him with a deep sense of regret and sorrow. He fully blames himself for what happened, and therefore is sheepish and shy when talking about what happened in the past.

Short Bio: Ajit grew up in a grotty run down large residential house somewhere around Batavia. He doesn't know exactly where. Then again, who knows exactly where anything is. He was raised by his parents, and their extended family. Ajit did once ask his parents what happened before he was born, but they seemed off and distant. He had 3 siblings, who were all older than him - Ajit was the last child born into what was nicknamed the Joshi Ranch. His family grew whatever food they could out of the grounds and garden of the old house. They also hunted deer and other animals from the nearby woods. Although in a non apocalyptic world it would have been considered an unfortunate way of life, the lives that the Joshis lead were comparatively luxurious compared to what most people in the area and at the time would have been living. Hell, they even managed to find some glasses in the run down house, albeit a bit small, slightly broken and dirty.

Ajit was raised with the necessary skills to survive. From his family he learned to sharpen sticks into spears and then hunt with them, how to make an effective shelter and how to find food when completely lost. When he was 9, he was already helping his family around the farm and in the hunting effort. As aforementioned, it was a simple existence, yet a sustainable one. They had enough food to last for a damn good while. And yet, they could grow more. In truth, I'm only really bigging up what he had before so I can make the next part more devastating.

They came suddenly in the night, out of the forest. Cannibals. A whole pack, like a herd of wild dogs. They brought flames. Torches. They set fire to the house and everything around it. When Ajit's family came running out, they were ambushed. They all fought against the human beasts, all except one. Ajit. He saw an opening and took it, sprinting out off into the forest, only a small rucksack of equipment with him. He decided to hed for what he hoped was the nearest city. He ended up on the outskirts of Rochester, where he lingered for a few months. Eventually he journeyed into the city, which led him to the Riches Crew
Weapons:
-Small kitchen knife
-Small crowbar
Equipment:
-LED Torch
-Box of stale bread
-A few cans of soup
-Swiss Army Knife where half of the features are broken or stuck

Other He speaks with a slight Indian-esque accent, as he was only raised by people of a similar ethnicity

Name: Malachi Sorin

Age: 18 years, 2 months and 5 days

Gender: Male

Appearance:


Personality:
Malachi is a bit of a perfectionist. He likes to keep things orderly and organized, keeping a notebook in his coat pocket of today's date and any other important notes. He keeps all of his items in a large backpack that he carries everywhere. He is also a bit of a pack-rat when it comes to odds and ends. He likes to hoard as much stuff as he can, even things he most likely will never use, such as pieces from a toaster oven and a toothbrush with no bristles.

He is also very quiet and usually keeps to himself, preferring to sit back and listen to people speak rather than engage in any kind of conversation. He is intelligent because of his observant personality, taking in all of his surroundings and scanning the horizon for any sign of importance.

Short Bio:
Malachi has a vague memory of his early childhood. The earliest time he can remember is when he was five years old and he was with his mother and father. They were all starving and starting to get thirsty, not having had food for several days now. His father decided that it would be best for him to go scavenging on his own while his mother looked after Malachi. His father gave both of them hugs and handed Malachi a notebook. He said to him, "Keep track of the days as I have," before he ventured off into the unknown. They waited and waited for several days before they knew they had to go searching or else they would certainly starve. Before they could leave, a group of men stumbled upon their hiding spot. "Hey Sam, look! There's some people over here," one of the men said. The man named Sam walked over and said to them, "Please, have some food. We have much more at our settlement. Come with us," as he handed my mother a potato. We had no choice but to go with them, hoping beyond anything that he was telling the truth. He took my mother and I to a safe haven and he was telling us the truth.

He grew up in that settlement, tending to the livestock, planting all kinds of vegetables and going out on expeditions to scavenge for any sort of supplies. He made sure to keep track of the days as his father had told him to, not sure why he should, only knowing that it was the only thing that reminded him of his father. His mother helped him tend to the livestock and crops as well. She also cooked meals for him and made sure to keep their shack clean and tidy. He was content with his life and happy with the way things were, until they were attacked one night. It was a fury of bodies as dozens upon dozens of cannibals pressed against the walls of their settlement, searching for a weak point. It wasn't long before they found one, forcing their bodies through the small gap. They rushed in as the people of the settlement slayed the first few with their crude weapons. It wasn't enough as the cannibals overwhelmed them and butchered them. In the madness, Malachi rushed to his shack and gathered all the supplies he could into his backpack. He realized as he readied his supplies that he didn't know where his mother was. Alone and afraid, Malachi knew he had to leave, not knowing where his mother was. He snuck past several shacks before getting to the edge of the settlement and sneaking out. He looked back once he was a good distance away, watching as fires broke out and screams were heard. Hopelessness filled his heart, but he knew he had to push on. It's what his mother and father would have wanted him to do.

To this day, Malachi wanders the streets, searching for any kind of food and water. He fills his backpack with items he thinks he could use in the future. He makes sure to still keep track of the days, as it is the only constant and soothing thing he can do with his life. Hoping that one day he may be reunited with his mother.

Weapons:
1. A very old revolver that is missing the barrel, along with a single bullet.
2. A sharp, flip knife that he found and several wood stakes that he sharpened with the knife.

Equipment:
-All kinds of random parts, such as broken pieces to a toaster oven, a toothbrush with no bristles, a fork that is missing two of its prongs, a golf ball, a large steel bowl (which he occasionally wears as a hat), and a roll of fishing line.
-A heavy coat, with a long sleeve shirt, sweat pants and tennis shoes.
-Heavy duty gloves, ear muffs and thick, big rimmed glasses.

Other: Malachi prefers to avoid fights, as he is not very good at fighting. Since he is so aware, he is usually able to avoid most people.

Name: David Schulz
Sex: Male
Age: 42
Gender: Male
Appearance:



Personality: David is your stereotypical eccentric scientist, he have a difficulty in trusting others as he feels that they will get in the way of his ambitions which he is very secretive about, he is somewhat arrogant as he believes that he is the smartest person in the world due to the obvious lack of educational institutions, on the bright side he is a very helpful person and will try to help anyone in need as much as he can, he also have a weak spot for children, he also have a sarcastic sense of humor.

Short Bio: David was orphaned at a very young age and lived his first 17 years in a safe-house/bunker in the care of his Grandfather, he came from a long family of scientists and learned people, his grandfather was also his private tutor and thought him everything from chemistry to biology and many other sciences that are now lost, at the age of 17 his grandfather got seriously ill from a long forgotten disease and on his deathbed gave David the key of his study room which was always locked and made him promise to continue the research that he and David's father started, after his grandfather death and learning about the secret research hidden in his grandfather's study room he was determined to finish what his grandfather and father couldn't, he spent the next 25 years of his life travelling around what was known as the United States, joining many groups of survivors for his own protection against the cannibals as he could act as the group's healer with his extensive knowledge in biology and medicine, recently he stumbled upon an evidence that showed him the way to finally solve the puzzle that is his research lies in what was once known as New York City, which eventually led him to the Rochester crew.

Weapons: A fast acting poison laced surgical scalpel tied to a wooden stick to give him range(the poison will cause a severe heart attack seconds from entering the blood stream of the opponent), however, he is not that good of a fighter

Equipment: A suitcase filled with secret documents of his research, 3 cans of soup, 1 refillable water bottle, medical alcohol, a role of medical gauze, 10 test tubes filled with solid and liquid materials, A pestle and mortar, 5 writhed wild flowers used to extract the poison, surgical gloves and a surgical mask.

Other: He gets defensive when asked about his research and therefore hates nosy people