this bio is 2 pages long already

Here is my character! Feel free to tell me if I need to adjust anything, or if I should explain something more thoroughly. I will go through it more when I don't have tired brain.

Cassiopeia Hovhannisyan [+]

Name: Cassiopeia 'Cassia' Hovhannisyan

Race: Middle Eastern

Ethnicity: Ashkenazi Jew and Turkish

Religion: Muslim

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Age: Twenty-six

Personality: Cassiopeia is highly intelligent but she has a hard time expressing her feelings. She has become blasé about the dangers of the apocalypse. She likes her independence from others, and worries about getting to close. Cassia is confident in her abilities and sometimes gets a little cocky. She's very naturally sarcastic and quick to snap at stupid questions. Her vulgarity is off putting to some. Cassia is a sweet soul once you melt the ice around her heart. Her loyalty is one of her best qualities about her, another is her dependability.

Description: Cassia is 6'0" and 166 pounds, she has a muscular build which is naturally strong. Her body is a natural hourglass. She has pale green eyes except for the partial heterochromia in her left eye which causes a sliver of golden brown. Cassia is very beautiful but she 'suffers' from resting bitch face. Cassia has full lips with a prominent cupid's bow. Her eyebrows are thick but not unruly. She has a scar across her lower right jaw which was from a knife fight with a bandit. Cassia has many other scars, but the two more unique ones are a bullet mark in her shoulder blades and the slash across her ribs, both from a transaction gone wrong. Her thick hair is a pitch black that is naturally wavy... that is when she has hair. On impulse she'll cut it off. When her hair is down it is to her hips but she keeps it back in a braid most of the times. Cassia's complexion is a deeper olive (Type V) from her father's middle eastern origins. She has a tree tattoo on her full back which she got after winning a lucky game of Texas Hold'em with her friend. She plans on getting another if she can but that is unlikely.

History: Cassiopeia's parents were both immigrants to America. Her mother, Varvara Avromovitch, had immigrated to America from Russia so she could work for NASA (hence her name.) Her father who had immigrated from Armenia, Ara Hovhannisyan. Cassiopeia was born in America and quickly obtained the D.C accent. She got into trouble as a child and befriended children that were often called 'hoodrats', one friend, Jeremiah, taught her how to pick locks. Cassia used this to her advantage, she got into every nook and cranny of her family's apartment. At the start of the apocalypse Cassia was only twelve. While the first few weeks were easy, her parents fell after zombies broke into their house. Everyone but her had been killed. She eventually found a traveling group who found there way to a settlement. They took her under their wing and taught her the ways of the road. One man, Aaron, even taught her how to shoot a gun. After several months of peaceful travel, they were attacked by a group of walkers. Aaron was injured in the fight after on of their own men shot him. She pulled the gun they had given she and shot him in the head. Cassia quickly learned who to trust and who to shoot. After she grew up, Cassia joined a mercenary group that hunted cannibals. One bounty in particular was on a guy who called himself 'Hannibal the cannibal'. Cassia had smelled the fish business from the beginning but the guy had been promising a big pay off. They had promised fifteen AK47's for their group of eight. They killed Hannibal, however, when they went to get the guns they were shot at. It seems as fate was yet again on her side when she walked away from it with a slash (from Hannibal) to the ribs and a bullet in her left shoulder. Cassiopeia spent weeks on the road fleeing while she tried to let her wounds heal. She eventually found herself wandering the apocalyptic no mans land. Wondering about her lives purpose... Why am I still here? Cassia contemplated suicide but later decided against it. Cassia went to a bar and drank A LOT of the deceased owner's stockpile. In a drunken stupor she stumbled out into the desert. She passed out from dehydration in the Nevada heat after having sever hallucinations. Upon waking she decided that she would look for a cure, so that nobody else would die by the hands of this damned disease. After losing so many of her family, she has decided to wander alone... or at least until now.

Profession: She had no chance to join the workforce, but she always wanted to be a quantum physicist.

Skills: combat, intimidation and lockpicking.

Weapons: Remington Model 870 (shotgun), Smith & Wesson Model 1006 (handgun) and a bowie knife.

Health conditions: None at the moment, however, she does have severe migraines.

welp heres trevor... i will be gone most of the day tomorow so dont be too brutal... looking at you DD.

Trevor "Shadow" Stevens [+]

Picture and theme song [+]

Theme Song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RIzLyBydMrs&index=334&list=LLpGTDJ3Qs6KXnRycbc-rj3Q

Name: Trevor “Shadow” Stevens

Age: 23

Description: Trevor like his father stands 6’6” and weighs around 215 Lbs. he is strong and fit like others of his age growing up in this wasteland. He has black hair he keeps shaved as best he can which turns out to be at best uneven but seems to like it that way and has a bit of a beard growing. His eyes are hazel and he speaks with a deep sometimes dry voice. Trevor is normally always dirty and always smells like a pine forest even though he sometimes goes weeks or months without bathing.

Personality: Trevor is a quiet lad, preferring to be silent and listen to others. He tries not to be anti-social but doesn’t pick up on social ques very well. Because of this and other things he is a blunt person and will tell you straight what he feels or thinks. He refuses to beat around the bush and can get annoyed if too many people are speaking at once. Trust is something different for him, sure he has a general respect for anyone who doesn’t try to kill him, but trust takes time. Not only does he have to see that you are useful and know what you are doing but you also have to demonstrate these things while also being somewhat honorable about it. he can also seem to be a bit crazy or creepy at times, he may be serious but mostly he does it to mess with people.

Job: Woodsmen but can slip into both a scout and/or trooper role.

Skills:
Self Sufficient Survival: Trevor has been trained to survive in the wilds nearly indefinitely if he has too, because of his father’s strict training he has more in-depth knowledge than what is commonly taught. Knows how to hunt most animals and what plants are edible as well as how to prepare them. Knows how to track people and animals as well as knowing how to evade those who would be tracking him. Is able to read maps and compasses as well as the lay of the land. He is very familiar with building long and short term survival shelters and is very good at scouting and gathering information.
Stealth: Even with him being rather large he is light on his feet. Trevor knows how to stalk others when it’s necessary and can stay hidden from the living or the dead. It’s almost second nature now, he could take a few steps off into the brush and just disappear.
Melee weaponry: although being adequate with the bow Trevor is very good with blunt, piercing, and slashing weapons. For him it does not matter whether its hand crafted or improvised as long as it works.

Likes:
- Warm beds.
- Friendly people.
- Good food.
- His family.
- Hunting.

Dislikes:
- Raiders.
- People who disrespect the forest.
- Cold nights.
- The dead.

Gear and Equipment:
For the most part Trevor has a little bit of everything due to his extensive training, if you need something he’s very likely to have something if not something similar to your needs.

But specifically his main equipment:
- He wears a chain mail Shirt his father gave him from his time with his local SCA group, with wool and cotton shirts underneath and normally wears darker camo cargo pants as well as a bonnie hat. Other than the chain shirt, his other most notable feature is the black bear fur he wears as a cloak, it keeps him warm during the night and dry when it rains.
- Trevor favors his father’s Ulfberht sword, which he may or may not have taken with his permission. But also uses a hand axe with an extended end like a small sledge hammer as a tool and weapon as well as a spear, some may also see him use a buckler or small shield while fighting. Trevor also has various knives but mostly uses them for tools and not weapons.
- He does have a PVC long bow he has painted black with several arrows with scrap steel heads.
- He also has a worn hiking pack that has been sewn back together in more than one place and reinforced with various other materials.

History: Trevor remembers how happy and peaceful everything was before well, what his father calls the beginning of Ragnarok. His father worships Norse gods and his mother just tolerates it. His father was a sheriff and his mother was a park ranger both lived in a small town of Florence on the Oregon coast. Everything for him was rather normal until the one day the riots started and his dad came home early from work, telling them in a near panic to get their things together and load them in the truck.

He remembers leaving that day, there were people screaming running, fires raged unchecked through parts of the city and looting was everywhere. He could see some people who were walking slow and where eating others. They headed north on highway 101 until they found the road blocked from car crashes, then his father took them through the logging roads east.

It had been a few days of slow traveling through the back roads to interstate 5, it was a place his father was trying to avoid. They found a gas station that still had some gas left and after that disappeared into the Cascade Mountains. Scavenging, running, hiding, fighting, and surviving. His father was strict, he had to be to keep all of us safe. It was just the three of them for a couple months until they came across another family. Trevor recognized some of them as his father’s old friends, but they looked just as bad as them, they had a big family too but somewhere missing.

After a few months their group found a few other families and from there settled in the shadow of Mount Hood near government camp Oregon. Progress was slow at first, clearing out the nearby town of the dead and supplies, then going through and gathering enough lumber to make the three wooden walls around the gated community in the woods just out of town they began to call New Fort Stevens.

After sometime of teaching and learning about this new world they called home, His father began to train all of them in combat training. From rifles to swords they were trained, his father had anger issues stemmed from an abusive childhood. As such he was very active in the SCA, a medieval fighting group, and still had some armor and weapons he was keeping for the other members. So the swords were sharpened, armor was polished, and bows of PVC and fiberglass were constructed.

He was 15 when his father started to train him like that, he didn’t show favorites and beat him down harder and more often to the others. Trevor had trouble realizing his father just wanted him to be the best he could be, to survive. Not only this, but he studied and practiced multiple survival tactics as well as stealth tactics, learning from military and survival books as well as his own ideas. One thing his father taught to all of them was the switch, everyone had to have one. The switch was a mentality, it taught them how to go from being friends with someone one day, to killing them the next.

His training was brutal, and so he became brutal, they were not raiders, he was taught to hide first gather Intel and as a last resort strike. He was trained to be a ghost in the forest, to disappear without a trace and only his hands to survive. Their small community was kept hidden, deep in the forests near the town. Guards patrolled outside the walls to detect trespassers, follow them, stalk them, gain information and if they wandered too near camp they would be detoured. When he was 18, One such group was from Portland, the band of raiders had a few prisoners with them and were heading toward Portland, but they made a mistake, they decided to camp in town for the night.

The scouts reported the location of the pirates to Trevor’s father while everyone was eating in the dining hall. “Lets go” was all the man said, every man and woman able to fight got up from the table and proceeded to the armory. After getting their gear they left into the darkness, the full moon lighting their way. With in an hour a small group of 20 had surrounded the sleeping and partying superior group of 35 with 5 prisoners. The pirates seemed to have raided some liquor from somewhere and where drinking, being loud, and having their fun with the prisoners. The prisoners looked like they had been traveling for some time perhaps even before they were captured.

Through the night the people of New Fort Stevens moved quietly, sticking to the shadows and picking off those who strayed to far from the others. Before long, the 35 had dwindled down to the 10 who were sleeping in the store. With two on fire watch, they didn’t seem to concerned when the sound died down outside or when the two were both hit in the head with arrows. Trevor and a few others got the prisoners out while the others went to work on dispatching all but three of the sleeping pirates. They did leave a note after searching the other bodies as well as inflicting the necessary head wounds, so they wouldn’t come back. The note was simple, “don’t fuck with the Woodsmen” but the message was clear, an entire raiding party decimated in one night left to only three members.

They didn’t find anymore raiding parties for a while, they figured they got the message or something else held their attention. The prisoners they found had heard of a place called last hope and where on their way there when they had gotten captured, apparently there were a lot more of them before. After they were rested and taken care of Trevor volunteered with a few others to escort them and go to this place they spoke so highly about. Taking a few horses and Trevor's favorite mule Hank, they set off to Find last hope, waving their flag a small red flag with a purple raven spread across it.

As it turned out this Town of last hope was only a day’s ride from them and seemed friendly enough as they approached. Normally they would camp out nearby and gather Intel but the people they rescued were rather persistent on getting to town. Once they were allowed inside it was a strange sight, these people of Last Hope looked and dressed normal where these proclaimed Woodsmen of New Fort Stevens looked like something from the time of knights and kings. They wore leather, steel, and chain mail armor. They wielded swords, axes, shields, spears, and covered themselves in brush, sticks, and mud. Yet somehow they were able to come together to form an alliance of sorts.

By communicating in code through HAM Radios left over at some radio stations. They traded information, supplies, and even men when they needed people of their variety. Because of all this, Trevor was eventually invited to go on an expedition with them, which he gladly accepted. Gathering his things he set off to join them, when he arrived he was put in with a second group that would be mostly troopers and some supplies that were not ready to go when the others left.

Other: he likes to sing on occasion and can mimic bird calls to signal others. Like his father Trevor also worships the same gods as his father and does have some sense of honor.
Father: Travis Stevens
Mother: Marissa Stevens

@RumikoOhara

So one more suggestion before i overhaul him. Would it be okay if for the last 3 years he was living with them as a citizen and representative of New Fort Stevens as part of their allianc? Or they could have just joined straight up and became an outpost kind of thing with last hope. His father would go for this as he would know about the battle of the locks and would deem them worthy basicaly.