[CHAR] Of Mice and Men and Zombies

[OnlyThePie]

Name: Henry Broadburn
Age: 31
Appearance: Roughly 5' 10", Muscular, lean build, somewhat tanned. Golden blonde hair and startlingly sharp blue eyes. Short, scruffy goatee. Average sized mouth and slightly squat nose. Long, angular face, but not long enough to make his neck appear awkward. Long, lanky limbs, though when working with animals, he seems almost graceful. Long burn scar along left arm. Generally holds a cold, grim facial expression, though some say he lights up when he laughs (not literally of course).

Personality: Henry is an icy man. Given his history, he tends to see the bad sign of things. But as such, he is often more prepared than another person might be. He has no qualms about defending himself in the face of danger, though he's always tried to stay on the good side of the law. Generally very reserved, Henry does open up around people he knows well, and is often seen deep in conversation with a close friend while working. Henry is of mild intelligence, not too smart, but not stupid either. He takes great pleasure in caring for the animals especially, and treats them as he would treat his own family. He is terrified of large fires.

History: After his father ran out on the family, Henry, his brother Mitchell, and his mother moved into Boston in order for Mrs. Broadburn to earn more work. She took a job in a clothing factory, before a fire tragically killed everyone within. Henry and Mitchell went out into the country, working odd jobs for the locals, until Henry was 17. By now, they had ventured north into Vermont, and had been staying with an elderly farming family. Henry was struck by tragedy again when a cow knocked over an oil lantern and burned down the farmhouse, with his brother and the elderly couple inside. He spent the next few years on the rails, until he was miraculously accepted to a community college. Henry did work on Veterinary care, but never earned his degree, leaving instead to go work on a farm, because he felt the academic life was suffocating him. He joined the farm when he was 26, and has worked there ever since. He cares for the cows and horses mostly, but is the vet-in-charge for all the animals.

Speech Color: The magnificent blue 0054a6

Traits: Jockey +2, Medic +2, Horse Whisperer +3, Clumsy -1, Big-Eater -1

[Little Bill]

Name: Antonio "Scarecrow" Corvi

Age: 28

Appearance: Unsurprisingly, the farmhand nicknamed "Scarecrow" is notably skinnier than the rest. Scarecrow stands at a harmless 5'6, and has a frame that suggests he would blow away in a very strong wind. His face is gaunt and hollow, with pronounced cheekbones and an eyepatch where his left eye should be.

Though he divulges little information about his past, Scarecrow's ethnicity can usually be surmised by looking at his face -- He has a pronounced Roman nose, and thick, inky black hair that he usually keeps under his straw boater hat.

Like many of the farmhands, he has only one outfit; aside from his hat, he owns a collarless white shirt, a black vest, an old pair of brown slacks (He is quick to point out that they are Dickies) and a pair of black boots. During the colder months, Scarecrow wears a thick green sweater, though he keeps it stored away under his cot until September.

Personality: Scarecrow is charismatic, if nothing else. Nearly all of the farmhands consider him a friend, and for good reason. He tries to make himself available to help the other farmhands at all times, and tends to do favors for others without being asked. On cold nights he manages to procure spirits seemingly out of thin air, and on hot days he can usually be found passing out drinks to his fellow workers. His performing background is an occasional spectacle at the farm, and he sometimes performs magic tricks or other vaudevillian feats during work for little reason other than amusing his friends.

History: Scarecrow was born Antonio Corvi, in Brooklyn, New York. His father was a cobbler whose business faced extortion from several different crime families, to the point that he rarely broke even -- Hoping to escape constant shakedowns, eventually moved the family to Gainesville, Florida. During the journey, Antonio's father became ill with a fever, and died before they had reached Florida.

Hoping to save their only son, Antonio's mother sent him to live with her cousin Maria in California, purchasing him a train ticket with what little money she had saved. As fate would have it, this would be another destination he would be unable to reach. A lone teenager, Antonio mistakenly boarded the wrong train, and quickly found himself in Missouri.

Alone and penniless, Antonio wandered the streets in search of work for days, until he found a single opening. A travelling circus had stopped by the town, and they were in need of a ticket vendor. As Scarecrow has often repeated, this was "The only time being a guinea helped", as the circus was owned by "Senor Carlo Mancini", a full-blooded Sicilian. Antonio applied for the job and was hired instantly, thanks to Carlo's nationalism. Antonio rose through the ranks of the circus, performing all sorts of acts, though he preferred magic and sleight of hand tricks. Carlo became a father figure to Antonio, teasingly calling him "Scarecrow" for his gaunt frame and surname's translation, and openly weeping when his "bambino" left the circus to work on the farmstead.

Speech Color - Orange.

Traits: Showman +1, Bilingual +2, Quiet +2, Lucky +4, Cyclops -4

[Zombiedude101]

Name: Leonard "Leathers" Russell
Age: 33
Appearance: Standing at around 5'10 and of an average build, Leonard looks like your average farmhand at a glance. He possesses a pair of hard, brown eyes and short, sharp brown hair whilst he does his best to keep his jaw clean-shaven. His skin's been bronzed from years working out in the sun and the most obvious sign of injury from the war is the mess that is a discoloured wreath of twisted flesh caused by severe burns that runs up his left arm to his shoulder, neck and lower jaw, then down his back, earning him the derogatory nickname of "Leathers", something which he's since took on as a moniker to spite would-be commentators.

Leonard tends to wear a white working shirt with a pair of brown slacks and working boots. When it's cold, he also wears a denim jacket but otherwise goes without. At his side, he keeps a Colt New Service holstered on his belt, a personal effect he's seldom seen without.

Personality: From the get go, it's clear Leonard has little time to deal with other people's shit (especially stockbrokers) and prefers to see a job through rather than whine about it. He dislikes leaving a job half-done and would sooner work his fingers to the bone than cut corners as some might do in these times - another little trait he picked up from the army. He has a certain fondness for animals, particularly dogs and horses, and for a man of the time harbours no dislike or prejudice towards people of colour due to seeing them among the ranks of the American Expeditionary Force during the war, though he doesn't like Germans for obvious reasons and is ambivalent towards other foreigners.

Due to his time in the war and the experiences he went through, sudden, loud noises can startle him (which in turn makes him even more defensive) due to the memories of shelling and gunfire it resembles. As a consequence of this, he's found it difficult to function in the loud, cramped environment of the US industrial complex without relying on alcohol and instead prefers the hard, if relatively quiet work of life on the farmstead. He hates being around fire save when it's necessary (campfire on a freezing night, for instance) as a result of being burned in the war and a recurring nightmare is of being burned alive.

The only thing that can put his personal phobias aside is the consumption of alcohol, to which he's able to just function while under the influence. That aside, he also gives off an aura of a man who's constantly on his guard - something which contributes to his hard-nosed appearance and is related to the nightmare flashbacks he occasionally experiences. It's even rumoured among the ranch hands that he sleeps with a gun under his pillow. The only individual who he doesn't keep to himself around is his dog, a mongrel (that looks like a cross between a pit bull and a labrador) affectionally named "Petey" after an old war buddy.

History: Hailing from the docks of New York, Leonard learned to work with his hands from an early age yet yearned for something else and when the US became involved in the Great War, he lied about his age and enlisted whilst still underage. Yet his time overseas left him with the traumas that one would expect from a boy exposed to the horrors of the Western Front whilst still learning about the world. By the time he returned home, Leonard was a different man scarred both inside and out, and soon found the burden of returning to and living changing New York too great to bear and, like many other returning veterans, felt out of place in society. Struggling to function in the cramped, noisy environment of the docks or the American industrial complex, he headed out towards the rural areas and briefly wound up working with some bootleggers during the 20s when he found himself reliant on alcohol to function before a souring experience turned him back towards an honest lifestyle, where he made a living wherever he could, working with his hands and getting on with it as any other man would. By the time he was up in Eastport he'd grown accustomed to this life.

Speech Color: Green.
Traits:
Veteran +2
Sharpshooter +2
Farmhand +1
Quiet +2
Harry +1
Thick-skinned +1

Shellshocked -2
Addict -2 (To alcohol, at least when shit hits the fan)

[FantasyChic]

Name: Abigail "Abbey" McHenry

Age: 26

Appearance: Abbey is an pretty looking young woman with dirty blonde hair and light blue eyes. She is pale skinned and of average build. She stands at 5'8'' and weights about 127 lbs. She has an oval face, a small nose and plump lips. She doesn't typically wear make-up unless she is going somewhere fancy, like to a show or to church. She is usually seen smiling as she has a gentle outlook on life. She typically wears dresses in either blue or pink and has sensible work boots she wears. When she goes out she wears fancier dresses in black or red and has women's flat shoes. Her hair is parted on the left side and is really long, but usually tied up. She does have bangs. Her ears are kind of big, bigger compared to everything else, she doesn't like that.

Personality: Abbey is a kind-hearted young woman with a soft spot for animals. She is kind and courteous to everyone she meets, but is naive to many things outside of the working farm life. In intense situations, she is strong-willed and driven, but only if the situation demands it. She enjoys learning and is very well read for a farm girl, having been taught to read and write. She enjoys the outdoors and loves strolling around when she is not working. She doesn't enjoy thunderstorms or bugs, despite her love of the outdoors and she doesn't enjoy eating many vegetables, she prefers fruits and grains most, and of course the occasional sweet. She also enjoys dancing in secret and has a habit of whistling while she works, because she enjoys listening to music on her off hours.

History: Abigail was born the only girl on the McHenry farmstead, and the youngest to boot. Her parents were happy to finally have a girl, but worried at the same time.

As Abigail grew older, she grew a fondness for the animals on her parent's farm. She loved milking the cows, gathering eggs from the chickens, and feeding the horses. While her brothers did the hard labor, she would do household chores for her mother, who was getting weaker. She did the cooking and cleaning, and whenever her brother's got injured she would fix them up. As her father would say "Even a minute not working can put us back."

Abigail also took to school and learning very well, reading a lot of books her parents bought her. Thinking nothing of it other than reading for fun, Abigail's interests grew outside of farming due to the stories she read.

As Abigail reached the age of 18, her parents wondered what to do about her. They wanted her to stay home, but they knew she would want to move on and get married, perhaps start her own farm with her husband. They tried setting her up with some young men in the area, but Abigail found them boring and dull. She wanted more in a husband.

Abigail heard of a farm needed help in Maine that needed farmhands for their work. Thinking she could make her own way there, she left home and traveled to Maine, where the Tackett family to see if they would hire her. She offered her skills with animals, medicine, cooking, and cleaning. This would be how she started her life.

Until the disease came.

Speech Color: This color

Traits: Intelligent - You are well-read and knowledgeable
Clean-Cut - You are attractive
Medic - You can perform first-aid such as stitching a wound
Weak - You are not as strong as most
Archer - You can effectively use a shortbow, longbow, or crossbow.

[Little Bill]

Name: William "Bill" Pooley

Age: 37

Appearance: On his best days, Bill Pooley resembles a large, shaved bulldog. His Anglo-Saxon skin is in a permanently fluctuating state of sunburn, and as a result, many farmhands call him "Pink Bill", though few are foolish enough to say it to his face. Rather than hide his baldness, he shaves his head every morning with a razor and can usually be seen scratching at a cut or scab on his scalp. A lifetime of brawling has given him a flat face, with an unsightly meatiness to his features -- His nose has been broken many times, his ears are cauliflowered, his lips appear to constantly be swollen, and his forehead is a visibly protruding ledge. In short, Bill Pooley has won few beauty pageants.

Although not especially short or tall he has a squat, muscular physique, and a neck that resembles a fleshy tree trunk. His shoulders are sloping and wide-set, and every inch of his flamingo-tinted skin seems to stretch over a block of muscle. The most notable part of Bill's physique, aside from his robustness, are his nearly baseball-glove sized hands.

Bill owns one pair of clothes -- A pair of blue jeans, work boots, and a cream-colored workshirt that seems two sizes too small. In the winter, he wears a denim jacket and a flat cap.

Personality: Bill's greatest redeeming quality is that he is a hard worker -- there is little else you can say about him for the better. He is aggressive and bullheaded, and thoroughly enjoys starting fights. He is a bully by nature, and though there are few men he wouldn't pick a fight with, he especially enjoys picking fights he knows he'll win. He is both racist and sexist, though this is largely because he enjoys following schools of thought that allow him to define himself as "superior" rather than any actual prejudice.

Aside from his lust for violence, Bill has a penchant for drinking, which acts (surprisingly) as a method of pacifying him. When inebriated, Bill is generally too giggly to seek out violence, though his cruel sense of humor and impolite disposition are too deeply ingrained in his personality to cull with liquor.

History: Bill was not born into wealth, but craved it from a young age. Hailing from Erie, Pennsylvania, Bill's upbringing is not at all surprising considering his demeanor. As a boy he was a schoolyard bully, and as a young man he was a common street thug. Though he lacked the higher thinking for large crimes, Bill spent most of his youth starting brawls in bars, making most of his living pilfering through the pockets of men he had beaten unconscious. Eventually, Bill was arrested and imprisoned for two years on assault charges, though his violent streak granted him another six years for the guards and prisoners alike he had assaulted during his stay in prison.

After being released at 29, he became a drifter, hopping from town to town in search of either drinks or work. Eventually he settled in Eastport, finding that the life of a farmhand required all of the muscle he had, and none of the brain power he was without.

Speech Color: Pink.

Traits: Boxer +1, Prize-Fighter +4, Hot-Headed -3, Racist -3, Slow -1

[End Here]

Name: Jack “Mad Jack” Campbell

Age: 38

Appearance: Height: 5’10”, Weight: 175lbs. He has brown hair with peppered grey throughout. He received a glasgow smile during the war. ( A cut that curls from the corner of the lips to the upper or lower cheek, upper in this case. ) He has brown eyes, and a bent nose. Broken from a fight. Low cheekbones and a square jaw. He often has a a few weeks worth of beard growth. He has large bags under his eyes, and crow's feet along the corners of his eyes.

Personality: Mostly a loner, though he often seeks the comfort of alcohol with a close group of friends. When he's not seeking solitude, he can be helpful often he puts on the facade of being cheerful and outgoing. He dislikes the loud people, and enjoys the company of books though he can hardly read. He also is fascinated by weapons and has a natural talent for shooting.

History: Jack grew up on a farm in Montana, he worked hard and was always outgoing. He never really got the opportunity to go to school due to having to stay home and work. He spent most of his time hunting when not working. He was one of three boys, the oldest. His mother died after the birth of his youngest sister Esmeralda. His father a devout man emeged himself in worship and work. Jack took most of the responsibility on the farm with his father allowing his brother and sister to go to school and get and education.

1914 war broke out, and he volunteered. And left the next week, his father was angry with him and never forgave him. Boot Camp was tough but he managed to plow through it. He was put into the infantry. He was the best shot in his platoon, and was made the designated marksman of the company. After three years America entered the war, and he fought across france and killed his own share of men. In a hand to hand skirmish, he was cut badly across the cheek. Later in the day his best friends were hit by enemy artillery. Being the last one left alive, he charged across the muddy field his bayonet fixed. narrowly being killed by bullets he landed in the trench and began to fight. He killed six of the germans and took the other eight as prisoners. Afterwards they gave him the moniker “Mad Jack” He survived battle after battle, and eventually was sent home when the war ended. He was numb on the inside, his father hated him still and his brother and sister didn’t recognize him. He left the service and helped out on the farm for another year before leaving and moving into the mountains.

He found that the thrill of the hunt was gone and it had become too easy. He stayed isolated only returning to town for a drink and to stock up on other essentials. He smoked a pack a day, and drank a fifth of liquor between two days. Though he could easily drink more. The following years he managed to get married which ended in divorce, he had two children with the woman. He started to work at a local copper mill. His family moved to Maine to be with her new lover, leaving him alone again. His life was colorless and his drinking increased. He spent most of his savings drowning out the darkness in his life.
Speech Color: Maroon
Traits: Veteran +1, Sharpshooter +2, Hunter +2, Shell Shocked - 2, Addict (Alcohol ) -2, Smoker -1

[Irisity]

Name:

Lisa Ingrid (though she goes by Ellie)

Age: 16

Appearance:

Ellie is a small girl at only 5'4" with a petite frame. She has a round blue eyes and dark brown hair (usually up in braid-buns or just braids). She has a button nose and thin lips with chubby cheeks. Freckles line her arms and her neck. She has a slight limp to her left foot from an occurrence in New York. She's small enough to reach into tiny spaces and has tiny wrist and hands that can squeeze into small places as well. She, sadly, has a resting bitchface and tends to avoid staring at people or gazing on accident.

Personality:

Ellie is generally quiet and keeps to herself. She likes to keep herself busy and goes mad if she can't find anything to do. Whenever she can, she studies her English. She's a hard worker and sucks up to the boss whenever she can, because she knows she'll need to. On the outside, she looks like a shy little girl ready for a husband to swoop her off her feet, but she clawed her way to America and to survive in this country and to this job and she isn't about to throw all her hard labor away for a marriage. Ellie is a sly and she knows it. She doesn't obviously manipulate people; she's low key about it. She wasn't always like that, though. Back in Germany, she was a sweet little girl. Though she is not against throwing others under the bus for her betterment, she does hesitate to maim or kill. She avoids the men as much as possible, and when she is around them, she does her best not to speak or imitate a southern accent, for fear they might attack her for being German.

History:

Ellie was born in 1918 as the war was coming to a close and Germany was quickly withering under the glare of the Allies. Her mother died during childbirth and for the first two years of her life she lived with her aunt, but her father came home from the war soon enough to raise her. Though he was a former soldier, he did not believe in killing and taught these beliefs to his daughter very early on. As the German economy wrecked under the supervision of the Versailles treaty, things became harder and harder for their little family. Ellie's father would try to gamble in money for them but lost it more than half the time. Finally deciding that Germany was no place for Ellie in 1930, her father taught her English and sent her away to America in 1933 to look for American family. He knew she would be shunned for her nationality, but with bread costing over a thousand notes a loaf, where else could he send her? America was a land of immigrants, even German immigrants, and if she never found their family, she could always find a nice German neighborhood to settle in. They would accept her there. When Ellie arrived in America, she stepped off in New York City and expected a free and happy life, even though her father wasn't there to live it with her. She should've never even dared to think that life in America would be happy. She could barely understand their ugly northern accents, and since the war, many German neighborhoods had been purged and other ethnicities and nationalities had taken them over. The months in New York, she grew a hard shell and a stone heart. Germans were hated; Germans were scum. Desperately trying to search for her American family, she moved to Maine thinking they might be there. She found the farm and found work there as a maid and a cook.

Speech Color:

How surprising. It's DA70D6

Traits:

Positive:

-Agile +1
-Clean cut +1
-Bilingual +2
-Sprinter+2
-Intelligent +1

Negative:
-Lame -1
-Churchgoing -2

Regarding her limp: One night, while Ellie was trying to find a place to stay (as she was homeless for most of the time and slept in the parks or under bridges), she encountered a few Polish kids and had to hide in a different part of town she had never been into before, so she was out of her element. She made the mistake of passing by a bar full of drunkard men and caught the attention of one. He cornered her, but he was so drunk he was lurching from side to side and almost toppled down a few times. He pinned her down and as she was twisting and turning to get away, she twisted her knee and since she couldn't efford medical treatment (not like any doctor would see to her) it never set right, causing her limp

[McHaggis]

.

[Athinar]

Name: Yulian 'Julian' Petrovich Tikhvinsky

Age: 25

Appearance: With long black hair pulled back into a ponytail, ice-blue eyes, and neatly trimmed sideburns, Yulian is what most would call a 'prettyboy.' He is lithe and athletic, and his muscled frame shows, no matter what he wears.

Personality: Yulian is a big-hearted fellow, who always has time for people. He can usually be found talking to someone with a patient smile, and acting charitably. His niceness might get on other's nerves, at first, but even the most vitriolic attacker of Yulian will admit that he is too damned nice to hold a grudge against. He is naturally charming, and he loves the ladies (But he hates men who charm women for their own gain.) This has caused more than a few fights with various men, but Yulian doesn't like fighting. Having been raised a devout Russian Orthodox, he finds fighting to be distasteful, and the act of killing to be abhorrent. He realizes that, sometimes there is a necessity, but he will speak out against it, nonetheless. Despite his kindness, he is not stupid. Yulian, while patient, is still a person, and doesn't stand for abuse of another person, or himself.

History: Yulian's large family of Russians moved to America, before the war broke out in 1914, and settled down in Quebec City, joining the Russian community therein. However, after the war had ended, Yulian, while maintaining good relations with his family, decided that he wanted something more, a sense of self. Something that he decided he couldn't get in Quebec. So, he became a drifter, working his way south, helping those he could along the way. However, his altruism didn't get him anywhere quickly, so he made it to Eastport before he got stuck in the town. There was just so much that needed fixing, and he liked the people, so he hung around.

He had been working around town for a few weeks before he found the Tackett Homestead, helping those in need. He was a regular feature in the local Catholic Church, and was invited to come to the Homestead by Farmer Tackett, who saw how hard of a worker he was, and how well-liked he was. (He's been there for a few months by the start of the RP.)

Speech Color: Gold

Traits: Agile +1, Ambidextrous +1, Bilingual +2, Clean-Cut +1, Thick-Skinned +1, Big +1, and Churchgoing -2.

[Duck]

Clay

Name: Clay Jamesson

Age: 26

Appearance: Clay is a wiry white caucasian man with straggly brown hair and hard green eyes. He is of average height but looks taller than he is on account of his build. He has sunburned skin, high cheekbones and a small scar on the left side of his upper lip. Clay is usually dressed in typical farmhand clothes; a cotton shirt with waistbands holding up his brown pants. He wears sturdy shoes when around people or at work, but enjoys walking barefoot when on his own. Clay isn't too picky with his appearance and is often percieved as unrefined or downright dirty by others. He has a simple ring on his right index finger, bearing the initials HJ. It's not uncommon to see him chewing on a straw when working.

Personality: It isn't always easy, being around Clay. It's not that he's mean, but he seems to lack the social tact that others take for granted. He is often short and blunt in his interactions with other people, especially around women. Clay often adverts his gaze when communicating with members of the opposite gender, and even though he isn't rude he can be a frustrating partner for conversation. This, however, is when he's dealing with white folks. Colored people aren't so lucky. Clay is downright racist, almost a relic of the nations dark past. Again he doesn't say much, but what he does say is often enough to provoke anger or sorrow. He is more respectful to colored women, but not by much. Clay doesn't have many other habits. He likes to hum a tune or two every now and then, but never goes so far as singing out loud. He doesn't drink or smoke, and generally avoids parties. Naturally, he's known as a bit of a loner.

History: Clay is a redneck, born and bred. He grew up in a large family way out in the country and quickly got to learn the ways of the wilderness from his father. His mother was always absent, even though she was there physically. His father, on the other hand, was present everywhere and always. He was also an abusive bastard who beat Clay and his siblings into submission on a daily basis, although not so much Clay as the others. It's strange, but Clay has always been lucky that way; no matter how bad the situation seems to get, he never gets the worst of it. When the boy became a young man of 15 he left his home and traveled the state in search of a new life. People elsewhere seemed strange to him, but his talents always landed him work in rural areas. It was only two years ago that he came to the Tackett farmstead, and so far he's been doing what he's done most of his life; working hard, by himself.

Speech Color: pinkish-orange (unless it's taken)

Traits: Hermit (+4), Lucky (+4), Racist (-3)

[Wade Wilson]

---

---

Name: David "Wolfie" Knapton

Age: 37

Appearance: Wolfie stands at roughly 6'1", towering above most of the farmhands. As per his nickname, he has fairly big muscles, probably due to his extensive army training and experience. He has short cut blonde hair, with a fringe that slightly hangs over his forehead, and deep green eyes. His skin has a slight tan to it, and there is a scar that runs from his right cheek to his chin.

David wears a plain white, mudstained shirt, with no collar and short sleeves. This is worn with a pair of dark khaki waterproof pants, dark brown trouser braces, and hard, black, leather boots. On a cold day he wears his army jacket with a dark green scarf.

Personality: Wolfie was effected by the war, definitely, but not in the way you'd think. It changed him drastically - his mental capacity broke down, and he created an almost split personality for himself. On the farmstead, he's shy, humble and silent, and just does the work that needs to be done. He barely interacts with any of the other farmhands, and the most you'll get out of him is a nod or a murmured grunt.

However, his "other personality" is quite the opposite. He's racist, reckless, hot-headed and smokes. A lot. He tends to switch to this personality when put into a state of panic or alarm, and you can often hear him shouting commands as if he were a soldier whilst he's sleeping. His traumatic experiences have really put him on edge.

History: Wolfie was born David Knapton in 1897 to Jack and Bess Knapton. He was always tall for his age, and towered above his peers all throughout life. He led a pretty ordinary life, attending a small village school as he grew up in the countryside. But, when he was ten, his father joined the army to go fight abroad. Three years passed, and his father was pronounced killed in action. However heartbroken Wolfie was, his mother urged him to do well in his education, as it's what his father would have wanted.

Years passed and Wolfie finished school with flying colours, before America declared war on Germany in 1917. Following in his father's footsteps, a now 20-year-old Wolfie signed up for the army, and went into the field of battle. What he thought would be a great experience, however, turned out to be Hell. He got an abusive general that screamed orders in his face, he had to sleep inside an oozing mudpit, while trying to drown out the sounds of gunfire and bombs, and almost got blew up while taking a crap.

David soon learned how to cope, however, and focused on winning the war. He stayed in the army long after that happened, however, and eventually left in 1929. However, the war did change him a lot, and with his newly found "split personality", Wolfie found more peaceful life on the Tackett Farmstead.

Speech Color: Dark Khaki

Traits:
Decorated +3
Sharpshooter +2
Medic +2
Motorist +2
Sprinter +2
Craftsman +1
Clean-Cut +1
Big +1
Farmhand +1
Hardy +1
Fisherman +1
Boxer +1
[Total = +18]

Racist -3
Reckless -3
Shell-Shocked -2
Hot-Headed -2
Churchgoing -2
Smoker -1
[Total = -13]

[czechmate46]

Name: Joseph Reed

Age: 38

Appearance: Joseph is a tall man with a strong build although he is not bulky or cumbersome. Standing at 6’4 and weighing in at 210 lbs, Joseph is a very strong man and his body is rather muscular and worked as each day he endures hard physical labour on the farm. His face is diamond shaped with moderately placed cheekbones and a moderately shaped nose. His lips are on thin side but his eyes are the most noticeable feature on his face. They are a hazel colour, although containing more green than brown. Joseph has a full head of hair that is cut somewhat short but not like a buzzcut. There’s some waviness to it. (Picture Joel from The Last of Us). Joseph’s hair isn’t exactly black but it is a dark chestnut brown. His beard is short and and does not extend off of his face for the most part. (Picture Rhett from Good Mythical Morning) and is the same colour as the hair on his head. Joseph has a scar line on his lower cheek which his beard grows around. He is not thin necessarily, he has some weight to him. Although, a lot of it is muscle.

Personality: Joseph can be described as a rather reserved and calm man. He is a man of few words and picks his battles. However, as a result of this, he finds that he gets little say in group settings and is ordered around by the other members. He could be best described as passive aggressive and gentle. Come the outbreak, he will be forced to resort to violence which will disturb him greatly. Joseph is a man who is in touch with his thoughts and likes to write them down on paper. He prefers to work things out rather than use violence straight off the bat. Soon, he will scare himself by his increased aggressiveness when the undead rise. Nonetheless, Joseph is still a gentle giant, and he will do whatever he can to keep his sanity.

History: Joseph Reed was the only son born in the city to an English professor and a housewife. It was assumed that he would follow in his father’s footsteps and enter the same profession. Through his early schooling and life, he received much pressure and bitterness from his father. He was not a warm or kind man in any sense of the word, but that didn’t stop Joseph from using his money to go to university. While he was in university, he was drafted but did not pass physical examination due to being flat footed. One year into his studies, he met a farm girl named Margaret through a local dance. The two fell madly in love and within a year, Joseph dropped out of university to marry her. The two moved into Margaret’s family farm and took it over when her parents died. She was the eldest of her two siblings and her parents entrusted that she and Joseph would do them proud. For the years that they ran the farm together, Margaret taught Joseph everything she knew about farming. The couple went on to have a son named Tom. When Joseph was 31 (1927), an unfortunate string of events took place which led to a barn fire that killed both his wife and son. Unable to live alone at the farm with the establishment reminding him only of the family he lost, Joseph sold the farm in 1928, before the markets crashed. He used the money to move back to the city and continue his schooling. When the depression hit, he dropped out of school again to look for work. With his previous experience in farm work, he was hired at Tackett Farmstead in 1931.

Speech Color: This one

Traits:
Local +1
Woodsman +1
Farmhand +1
Big +1
Intelligent +1
Craftsman +1
Jockey +2
Sharpshooter +2
Churchgoing -2
Old -3
Lead footed -2

[DeltaV]

Name:
John L. Roberts

Age:
49

Appearance:
Standing at the reasonable height of five feet and nine inches, John is a lean man of pale skin and dark hair. His eyes are a dull gray-brown, not unlike two chips of flint, though they are somewhat distorted behind thick glasses. He keeps his raven-black hair well-maintained, though it is streaked with gray and beginning to bald. The true pride of John's appearance, of course, is the rather impressive goatee that he carefully trims and landscapes each day.

Perhaps even more striking than the facial hair to the first glance, however, is the pronounced limp with which he walks painfully -- a relic of the days of the Great War. He has a tendency to grimace and mutter under his breath with every few steps, but stalwartly reject any sort of assistance offered.

John usually dresses in simple clothing, porting in general jeans, a cotton shirt and practical boots under an old-fashioned brown duster.

Personality:
John is a somewhat gregarious man in general, fond of friends and lively conversation. He prefers to listen more often than he speaks as a general rule, but could not truly be described as solitary. Generous with his money when he still had it, he has since become a bit more closely-guarded.

John maintains a number of different dispositions dependent on the scenario -- if one were to find themselves waiting in the room with a loved one on the operating table, no doubt they would be surprised at the, well, surgicality (no pun intended) and solemnity with which John goes about the task. He takes to surgery as a man takes to breathing, as a habit more than a practice or a hobby.

History:
John Louis Roberts was born in Eastport, Maine in the year of 1885, to a reasonably wealthy family. His father had managed to distinguish himself a bit whilst fighting for the Union in the Civil War, and had since managed to hold down various odd-jobs as John's mother held down the home.

John led a rather normal, if perhaps not quite idyllic, life for the times. Always an intelligent boy, he exemplified a certain strong work ethic that propelled him to Harvard College at the age of eighteen, where John went into the medical practice. After graduating some years later, he acquired work at a Boston hospital.

John was thirty-two years old when America officially entered in to the Great War, and enlisted voluntarily despite being somewhat older than the average draftee. He managed to weasel his way into a position as a field medic after basic training, and proved to be rather good at it indeed. In early 1918, however, John took a number of bullets to the leg while attempting to retrieve an injured man from the battlefield and was himself rushed from the front-lines. He soon received medical leave and returned home, though not without his own share of shell-shock from working with men in various stages of death -- and nearly becoming one himself.

When John returned home he found himself traveling to his home-town of Eastport, where he established a reasonably successful medical practice -- tending in large part to various small check-ups, though with the occasional surgery that helped to keep his wits sharp. He managed to find himself on the good side of much of the town due to a number of factors, among them his veterancy; his generally amiable attitude; and the low costs which he charged for his services.

However, when the Great Depression reared its ugly head, John found that he perhaps should have charged a bit more after all. His meager savings lasted only about a year and a half before John was forced to sell his livelihood. Though it brought him considerable guilt, John cashed in his favors with a local well-off farmer -- and old friend via the local church -- by the name of Tackett. In exchange for providing general medical aid to farmhands and animals alike, John managed to secure himself a few hot meals a day and a roof over his head until he would be able to support himself once more -- which, with the advent of zombie apocalypse, perhaps will not be for some time more.

Speech Color:
Olive.

Traits:
Savant - John is a very skilled surgeon. - 5
Doctor - 4
Intelligent - 1
Local - 1
Veteran - 2

Churchgoing - -2
Bespectacled - -1
Lead-Footed - -2
Lame - -1
Shell-Shocked - -2