Name: Drew Arron Richards
Age: 26
Gender: Male

Weapons: Crowbar.
Equipment:

Personality: Drew is a naturally optimistic young man, despite the horde of dead bodies pounding on the walls of the safe house every night. Though, he keeps a level head and a strong air about him. He won't back down easily, and his quick-tempered, sometimes allowing this to cloud his thoughts. Though he can be considered complicated, his emotions mirroring the ride of a roller-coaster, Drew is a simple person. He does what he can to survive, but will gladly help other's, as long as it doesn't put him in grave danger. Despite his lighthearted nature, he has long since questioned his morality after the apocalypse. He became all too used to the motto, 'kill, or be killed' as well as those around him. He has been used to the company of others, but doesn't tend to get too close, fearing that he will be affected by the loss. A risk he can't afford to take.

Brief Bio: The world is always finding ways to make us stronger, to batter us, to make us fear anything that we are not familiar with. It's strange, to live in such a wide and vast globe, when in truth, we are all but encased to the life that has been organized just for us. Following in the footsteps of other lives, instead of caving a path of our own. Well, that was the expectation anyway. Though, to what can the offer of a stable life really hold to a young man with a fire in his heart?
Nothing. At least nothing compared to the reward of breaking away, of discovering all things new. Moving to Havana had been a change that had shaped up Drew, ha caused him to see the world in a new light. A light that though it struggled to stay, the only thing it had left was the warmth. Even that was bare, and fading. His adventuress spark had seemed to wither along with that light. Once the quarantine's had been set, and all travel had been cut off to all but the special, or very wealthy, Drew could feel his spark leave. The final flame still burning, but the warmth had gone.

He had tried to run from his past, even from his future, but when faced with the present. He had nowhere to go, he was trapped, and when it seemed that the wolves would devour him, he was given a last chance. To live, to work, and to run. Originally born and raised in the mitten of the United States, he had been adapted to living in the horrible winters, the sun seeming to slow him a bit. Fishing, was a different story. In this world, any food goes. When you can, you go to the water, if it's not clustered by the living, or the dead. In that case, you could be sure he would volunteer to go. Not just because of his past experience in his childhood with acrobatics, but with the fact of his willpower and hard to break ego. One thing that hasn't fully crumbled in this mess. If that's a good thing, the world might never know.

Attributes
Strength: 7
Stamina: 5
Health: 5
Dexterity: 3
Sense: 4
Charisma: 1

Skills
Barter: -
Lockpicking: 6 (+1) 7
Parkour: 8 (+2) 10
Gunning: -
Melee: 4 (+1) 5
Technical: 3 (+1) 4
Automotive Machinery: 6
Stealth: 5
Survival: 3
Achievements:
None yet earned.

Name: Adrian Fong
Age: 22
Gender: Male

Description/Appearance: Stands at 5'11 making him a bit taller than average. His build is a bit thin, frail even, but there is certainly muscle in the right place to indicate a runner. His hair and eyes are both black, and his skin is getting the slightest of tans from days out running.

Weapons: He’d love to have something more than a survival knife, but really doesn’t feel like poking his eye out, or worse, when it comes to heavy parkouring. With his luck it would probably happen.

Equipment: He does have a personal safe “house”, although calling it safe might be pushing it. It’s a room on the third floor of a building which has had it’s first staircase knocked out and the second blocked off. The door has been blocked off with furniture, leaving the window as the only viable entrance available. It’s not a particularly hard jump, if someone knows what they’re supposed to do. Hint: you don’t try to crash through that narrow opening, that’s just asking for horrible things to happen. He keeps most supplies and equipment here, bringing out only the bare minimum.

• His method of transporting supplies is a durable, shock absorbent protector case. Managed to loot one from a store. Doesn’t hold as much as most backpacks would, but at the very least he can toss or drop it and not worry about whatever is inside breaking. Also makes for a fairly decent blunt weapon.
• His method of carrying any supplies is two leg holster bags. They wrap around the thigh and hip, keeping each to the side and out of the way if he ever needs to roll or the like. They’re small, but have enough room for a MRE, a few energy bars, a canteen, along with a few other knick knacks like a compass and what not.
• Is rather comfortable in heat, so he wears a windbreaker, for some protection against any bad weather, along with cargo pants. Easy to move around in, with plenty of pockets for stuffing small, durable goodies into. Although his windbreaker does have a hoodie, he prefers to stick with a cap; it limits his vision less.
• He keeps a heavy-duty mini-LED flashlight in his windbreaker at all times. Same with a map. Ditto goes for a multi-tool. Batteries are probably mixed in there somewhere too. A watch is on his wrist because knowing how much time he has before night hits is a rather good thing. Oh right, some heavy duty rope is useful, and duct tape. Oh duct tape...

Personality: Simply put, two-faced. One is the mask he wears when he steps outside of his safe house. Pragmatic and realistic, even to the point of being cold or callous towards others in need, although not to the point of being a contemptible bastard. He’ll save and help people if he can, but if the odds aren’t in his favor, don’t be surprised if he bails. Perhaps a bit too serious for some peoples’ tastes, but taking it easy doesn’t keep people alive, at least in his opinion.

When he's alone though he's much more open, in the sense that he doesn't try to steel himself or control his emotions as much. For the most part he just seems weighed down by all the changes he's had to adapt to. On particularly harsh days his composure slips even further, but it's not something that happens too often.

Attributes:

• Strength: 2
• Stamina: 10
• Health: 2
• Dexterity: 4
• Sense: 6
• Charisma:1

Skills:

• Automotive Machinery: 1
• Barter: 1
• Gunning: 0+(1)=1
• Melee: 1
• Lockpicking: 4+(1)=5
• Parkour: 6+(5)=11
• Stealth: 8
• Survival: 10
• Technical: 4+(4)=8

Achievements: None yet.

Brief History: Adrian is a rather average individual who just happened to get caught up, with the rest of the world, in its apocalypse. He worked as a cook in the restaurant his family owned, way back up north in, Toronto, Ontario, Canada. It wasn't any five star shop, but it was in a good location and well-established. Things had gotten a bit harder after his mother passed away, and for a while the possibility of closing down had been quite real. Still, with Adrian devoting his time towards the family business things stabilized and eventually began to pick up. While his father didn't like the fact that he abandoned higher education, Adrian didn't mind too much; he had never looked forward to university or college, and if his work meant his siblings could go if they wanted to then it was worth it. His younger sister and brother are hassles, as younger siblings always are, but he loves and trusts them dearly nevertheless.

It was supposed to be a nice vacation, the first one he had in five years now, but nope — zombies had to show up and everything had to go to hell. Just brilliant.

Name: Joshep Veridna

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Description/Appearance:

Weapons: An Ice pick

Equipment:
-A lighter
-A canteen
-A Hand cranked flashlight
-A can of beans
-Can opener
-Small Knapsack
-A thin sleeping bag
-Fifty bucks, for trading purposes
-A bottle of Jack Daniels, half full
-His clothing, a thin black jacket, blue and orange Nike high tops, a pair of tan shorts, a gold ring with a ruby on it and a white t-shirt.

Personality:Joshep is what people would call a play-boy. Under better circumstances you could find him working as a bartender and flirting with the girls who visited the bar. There were many girls who would tell you that you should avoid Joshep at all costs lest you fall for his charm. Underneath his charm Joshep is a good person, he is caring and nice but not very courageous. In most cases, Joshep will avoid confrontation over running away despite his physical apperance. Joshep is a optimistic person and likes to believe that there will be a cure someday, just not in his life time.
Joshep is one to trust anyone in a heart beat but after the zombies arrived he trusted only a select few. It takes a lot of work to gain Joshep's trust.

Attributes:
- Strength:5
- Stamina: 4
- Health: 5
- Dexterity: 4
- Sense: 3
- Charisma: 4

Skills:
Barter- 5(7)
Lockpicking- 5
Parkour- 3(5)
Gunning-1(2)
Melee-4(5)
Technical-4(6)
Automotive Machinery-2
Stealth-5
Survival-6

Brief Bio:
Joshep is an orphan originally born in Russia. Joshep was adopted by a man named Siris Veridna. Siris was a role-model to Joshep, a man who was of a physical stature that most people thought he would crush a shot glass just by touching it. In Joshep's eye, Siris was the father who had been there from the start. From the very first moment Joshep said his first word, Siris was there to smile at him and support. Yet, Siris was a widower and had lost his wife in childbirth along with the child leaving a void in his heart that Joshep had filled.
Joshep grew up with a great confidence and belief in self-worth as Siris raised him to. Siris supported Joshep in him trying to find a women who truly loves. Unfortunately, this meant Joshep breaking the hearts of close to a dozen and a half women. Joshep always tried to be nice when he broke up with a new women but each time he earned another person who hated him. After his father died at the age of sixty-seven, leaving nothing more than ten thousand dollars for him, Joshep had decided to move to Havana. Joshep has been living there since he was twenty-four years old.