Athol

The War That Ended All Wars [Applications Open]

Kavan Berthou

KAVAN BERTHOU

"This is a harsh world, and I am old for a reason."

_{[ ❇ ] S Y N O P S I S}

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_Name

Kavan Berthou

_Gender

Male

_Age

65

_{[ ❇ ] C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N}

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_Appearance

As a young man his hair was a rich, honey blonde and his eyes were a pale blue, flecked with green. Today, his eyes are still the same, but his hair has long since gone white. His whole body is a patchwork of little scars and blemishes, the kind of thing one gets from a hard life in the wilds of this shattered world.

Despite advancing age and a tough life, he is still a powerfully built fellow standing roughly 180 cm tall and about 80 kilos of muscle, though admittedly he’s found himself softening about the middle more and more as the years pass. Over his heart he has tattooed a Cross of Lorraine, underneath which there are fifteen marks, one for each member of his small village.

Clothing-wise, he wears whatever he can make or scavenge from the world around him. His boots and pants are Kaiserreich, his undershirt, gear harness and pouches are Confederacy and his gloves and cap are Hessen. To this he also carries a large hand made pack made of deer hide and wears a wolf-skin cloak.

_Personality

Vigilant ⟶ Patient ⟶ Sardonic ⟶ Reverent ⟶ Affable

_Biography

What his families life was like before the Last War has been lost to time; all he ever knew was a tough but relatively good life in his isolated little village. During the War the area was strategically unimportant so the worst of the fighting passed them by; and once things really started to fall apart, the worst of that missed them as well.

Growing up, and being as large as he was, Kavan split wood and worked the fields from a fairly young age, and from about 16 onwards he also hunted, took part in defending the village as needed, and on occasion trekking out to trade with other settlements. All-in-all it was a remarkably good life for such a broken world, but rarely do such things last. He was just entering his twentieth year, newly married and with a child on the way when his own world broke. Returning home after being away for several days on a hunting/trading trip he saw a disturbing amount of smoke in the sky over his home. Abandoning everything but his weapon he rushed back to find he was days too late.

From what he was able to piece together from the damage done and the bodies strewn about, his home had been savaged by a prefect storm of bad chance. Some of the dead had the look of slavers, a constant worry that their remoteness usually protected them from, and the others were ghouls, on of the Wars many left over horrors. Kavan guessed the slavers surprised his village, and was in the process of rounding everyone up when a pack of ghouls must have shambled close enough to be drawn by the sounds. The slavers took several casualties, but they were well armed and the ghouls were only a small pack and not a Horde, and so were wiped out. While he had been gladdened to not find any of his people savaged by the ghouls, the fact that they weren’t there meant enough slavers had survived to maintain control of their captives.

For a time he set out in search to find his friends and family, his love and his child, but in the end nothing came of it. After a time he came to accept their probably deaths, and though he kept the memories close, he moved on. That said, after such destruction he never felt at ‘home’ anywhere and so has spent his life carefully making his way between the various holdouts of humanity.

_{[ ❇ ] M I S C E L L A N E O U S}

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_Gear

• G24(t) --- [Loaded] 5 Rounds [Spare Clip] (x2) 5 Rounds Per [Ammunition Pouch] 20 Rounds Loose
• Mle. 1935A --- [Loaded] 7 Rounds [Spare Magazine] (x1) 7 Rounds [Ammunition Pouch] 21 Rounds Loose
• Hatchet
• Knife
• Small Toolkit --- Adjustable Wrench, locking pliers, Screwdriver

_Skills

• Sharpshooter
• Tracker
• Survivalist
• Salvager
• Multilingual --- Naturally he is fully fluent in French, and understands more German than he can speak. He also has a smattering of English.

_Other

Dialogue Color: DodgerBlue

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

Once Mike shoots down her boat idea (:p) Eliza' go for the lighthouse.

@Slim Shady
It wouldn't be implausible that the Security Office may also have an emergency fire door somewhere in the back. If that's the case we could slip out that way

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

^{@Delphio@Vaeltaja}

While the others talked around them, Eliza found herself looking down at Elijah’s arm; more specifically at the bandage around it that was started to look a little pink in places. ”Hey,” She said, nudging him in the shoulder. ”I wanna take another look at your arm. I think I saw a bit of glass still in it before.” Not really giving the man a say in the matter, she put a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the large wall mounted first-aid kit.

Unlatching the case and swinging it open, she was impressed with what she saw. It was not emergency trauma kit, but it was very well stocked. From the kit she pulled out some tweezers, cotton swabs, a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a pair of bandage scissors and some aspirin. Sure it did have some heavier pain killers, but Elijah didn’t exactly seem like he was suffering greatly. Setting it all on a near-by counter top, she then poked about the office eventually turning up a cupboard full of plastic wrapped shirts, identical to the one the security guard was wearing. Snagging one, she returned to Elijah.

”I’m no Medic,” She said, trying to lighten the tone a bit, but not doing too well; off to their side, the security guard was suggesting they lift something from a motor pool and make for the city. ”That said, I’ve done plenty of stuff like this…bit of an operational hazard in my job.” Holding up an arm, she showed a plethora of small to medium scars of various age; on that ran across the back of her hand was still a bit pink-ish and had the last traces of scabs.

Unwrapping Elijah’s arm, she used the tweezers to take a cotton swab and dab the blood that had welled out of the cuts; fortunately it seemed to just be some capillary bleeding and nothing more. Ditching the bloodied swab, she apologized and then started poking about in the cut, eventually being rewarded with two small chunks of safety glass. Another bit of probing to make sure she didn’t miss anything, she then took a new swab, dosed it with a tiny bit of alcohol and used that to clean the wound.

Once all that was done, she tore open the plastic bag and then used the scissors to cut the shirt into a few strips. One was folded up and placed over the cut, before the other was used to wrap Elijah’s arm much more securely than either version of the previous bandage. ”There, that should hold you until a real medical type can have a look at it.”

That all done, she moved a bit closer to the others. ”Hey I’m Eliza, can I just throw my two cents in?” She said by way of an introduction. ”If this place full of rich-ish tourists got blindsided by whatever the fuck that is.” She added, waving towards the door most of them had just recently piled through. ”Do you really think the local gov is doing anything? Shit goes bad, the tourists are usually the first ones out…bad PR if they get killed and all that. My money says either the local gov is either already dead or under siege; I don’t know how many folks lived in Morseby, but I’m guessing that place make here look like a spa day”

She started pacing back and forth as her nerves jangled. She was terrified, much like everyone else no doubt, but she knew she needed to stay calm, they all did if they wanted to stand a chance in hell of getting out. As she moved by the security guard, she stopped and looked at him. ”What about a port, or a marina? We get there, get a boat…something long range, and head out to sea. It’d have radios and all that, and I know the Aussies or the Kiwis generally handle SAR work in these parts, so we’d just need to start transmitting a distress.”

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

@Zoey White You know he's doomed though... in zombie flicks security guards rarely last much longer than the 'selfish asshole' types...

[closed]

^{@Undying Curiosity}

Aden listened to the other talk about their Abilities, but her eyes lit up at Zyrick’s demonstration. ”Guess I should throw my two cents in now…” She chuckled, taking a drag from her little cigar. ”I’m Aden…Aden Chernus if you feel the need to be formal.” An amused snort gave her opinion on that detail. ”Truth is…I’m not totally sure what my Ability does.” For a form with no eyes, Gamas really could glower with the best of them.

”I mean,” She went on, amused by her ‘companions’ annoyance. ”My Spirit has, in it’s own way, tried to explain it to me…but…” She made a whistling noise as she waved a hand over her head. ”The Idiot Version, is that I can project a rather powerful blast of energy from my left hand here.” Holding out her left, she turned it palm up to show a tattoo on the palm of her hand. ”Gamas, my Spirit, got me to get this as it acts as a ‘focus’ the energy at whatever I point my palm at. There’s no sound or light, like someone that can use fire or lightening and such; I just raise my hand and boom target is dead, usually coughing up blood.” Lowering her hand, she flexed it a few times before letting in fall to her side.

”Armour, hide, walls…don’t matter, it’ll go right through without really leaving a mark unless I really push it. That said it’s sort of a one shot deal. Takes a lot of effort to use and can be anywhere from a few hour to a few days before I get another shot.” Reaching back, she patted the butt of her scattergun once again. ”That’s where the big iron comes it…speaking of…” She reached into a pouch on her hip and pulled out both a shot and a slug shell. ”Hey Zyrick, can you dupe something like these?”

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

^@Vaeltaja

It wasn’t until Elijah got through the door with the second woman, and the door closed, that she realized she’d been holding her breath. During those eternal seconds, she’d heard a commotion behind her but had been too fixated to look. Now she turned and saw the panicked man, whom she’d guessed was trying to close the door early, pinned to the floor by a new guy that she vaguely recognized; there was also a woman about her age trying to convince the second fellow to let the first guy up.

As the collective adrenaline rush started to ebb and one of the, apparently French, women thanked them all, Eliza felt a rather strong need to just scream for like an hour; but unfortunately or maybe fortunately that wasn’t really possible. Not trusting her self to speak for a bit, she thanked the security guard with a pat on the shoulder. Her arms went slack and her fingers lost their strength, causing her to drop her bar. The world seemed to fade out for a moment, before a voice beside her made her focus.

”Huh, what?” It took several seconds to her brain to process what he’d said. ”Sorry…kinda zoned out there for a moment.” Absentmindedly she ran her fingers into her braided mass of hair to scratch her head. ”My vacation? Well it started on a shitty note, before all this, and has been downhill since…”

[closed]

^{@XoXKieroBombXoX}

She felt…old. Granted none of her new compatriots seemed that much younger than her, but she could tell she was the oldest one there. She watched them as the filtered in, the red-head with a chip on her shoulder, the short kid with eyes that seemed older than his face and the tiny boy with a lever-gun who was trying to pass as as a girl, and doing quite well. The only thing that’d given him away was the fact that Aden had had a chance to watch him approach from some distance, the way he moved wasn’t right; that said, Aden didn’t really care, though she questioned the practicality of the skirt.

The stoic man, who’d been there when Aden arrived, spoke of them heading out as the gate groaned open. ”Aye,” She said, standing and slinging her scattergun over a shoulder. ”Best we should be about it. Got to earn that princely sum they’re paying us.” As this played out, there was a slight twinge of jealousy in the back of her mind, because while she’d been observing the other Hunters, she’d sensed Gamas interacting with the other Spirits, something she wish she could do. At times she’d pressed her ‘friend’ for information about its kind, but it was never overly forthcoming.

As they started moving, she angled over besides the boy in girls clothes. Aden was a bit tall compared to most women, but next to this boy she felt like a giant. ”Aden,” She said conversationally, extracting a hand rolled cigar from a tin and lighting it with a battered lighter. Once it was drawing properly, she blew a stream of smoke straight up before making a motion towards the lever gun. ”You have much time with that iron? Been thinking about getting one myself.” She reached back and patted the butt of her scattergun. ”This is all well and fine, but sometimes a bit more range would be nice.”

[closed]

Aww, okay then.

[closed]

@Undying Curiosity Are Spirits capable of seeing/interacting with one another?

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

^@Delphio

”Got it!” She replied as Elijah went after a woman who seemed to be moving like she was out for a stroll. Breaking into a bit of a run, she clapped the security guard on the shoulder as she passed. ”Fall back to the door!” Without waiting for a reply, she reached the door and pushed by another woman. ”Clear the doorway, give ‘em space!”

Just inside the office she looked about briefly and spotted movement, some older fellow was making a dash for the door control panel; she could read the panic on his face. ”HEY!” She shouted, using her Army ‘command’ voice. ”Touch that and I break your fucking knees!” Turning back to the door, she made ready to help if needed.