Name:
Jericho Twili
Age:
36
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
Biography:
Jericho grew up in a small city in the middle of Oklahoma, swearing he would one day get out and make a name for himself. His grades were top of his class,and he physically was strong, but he never let it get to his head. Consistent study and training, he planned to enlist in the military when he graduated. His family were less than pleased and planned to disown him as they were fervent pacifists. Once he entered the USN he showed intense interest in demolition work and an unrivaled talent for stealth work. He had succeeded, but it was struck from all the records. His training as a SEAL was quickly put to work in the Black-Ops side of the military. Every mission detailed with black sharpie.
Years went by and finally he retired, with a sizable pension, the bloodshed too much for him to handle anymore. A wonderful safe spot in the middle of Texas, just far enough away from civilization to be left alone, but close enough the could get groceries and ammunition. Though he never really ran out of that. A sharp mind was a dangerous object in this world, and shooting targets kept him sharper than a razor blade.
Equipment:
Before shit hit the fan: A surplus of hand gun ammunition ranging from 9mm to .45 caliber, rifle ammunition from .22LR to 7.62x54, as well as a few grenades that he made sure to take with him.
After shit hit the fan: Two handguns with Less than 100 rounds combined of 9mm and .45 caliber, and one rifle with four magazines of 30 rounds of 5.56x45 rifle ammunition, one grenade, a bowie knife, and a backpack that he carries it all in.
Jericho Twili
Age:
36
Gender:
Male
Appearance:
Biography:
Jericho grew up in a small city in the middle of Oklahoma, swearing he would one day get out and make a name for himself. His grades were top of his class,and he physically was strong, but he never let it get to his head. Consistent study and training, he planned to enlist in the military when he graduated. His family were less than pleased and planned to disown him as they were fervent pacifists. Once he entered the USN he showed intense interest in demolition work and an unrivaled talent for stealth work. He had succeeded, but it was struck from all the records. His training as a SEAL was quickly put to work in the Black-Ops side of the military. Every mission detailed with black sharpie.
Years went by and finally he retired, with a sizable pension, the bloodshed too much for him to handle anymore. A wonderful safe spot in the middle of Texas, just far enough away from civilization to be left alone, but close enough the could get groceries and ammunition. Though he never really ran out of that. A sharp mind was a dangerous object in this world, and shooting targets kept him sharper than a razor blade.
Equipment:
Before shit hit the fan: A surplus of hand gun ammunition ranging from 9mm to .45 caliber, rifle ammunition from .22LR to 7.62x54, as well as a few grenades that he made sure to take with him.
After shit hit the fan: Two handguns with Less than 100 rounds combined of 9mm and .45 caliber, and one rifle with four magazines of 30 rounds of 5.56x45 rifle ammunition, one grenade, a bowie knife, and a backpack that he carries it all in.
