Klaykid

тнe lιĸeѕ oғ υѕ ✦ ѕυrvιval role play

@Azaria Blue Correct me if I'm wrong, but I assumed Kiki was in a window seat. Also, I had no idea airborne was a vitamin company, ha ha ha.

тнe lιĸeѕ oғ υѕ ✦ ѕυrvιval role play

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Interacting With: Rebekka Williams @Azaria Blue

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His hands were still shaking from the adrenaline of survival. Isaac could barely insert the key into the keyhole of his lock box, and clipping his sheathe onto his belt became a ridiculously difficult task. He wiped his nose with his thumb and did a quick survey around him. It definitely was a grim scene. He had been trained in numerous survival scenarios, but surviving a plane crash was not one of them. One would think the army would train airborne infantry units on procedures after surviving a plane crash. Guess not.

“Stop jumping around you idiot, we could be just barely balanced or on the edge of something.”

Another voice called out to him different from the first. That accounts for two survivors. And one of them was more snippy than the other. But despite the aggressiveness in her voice, there was reason behind it. Being balanced on an edge was not something Isaac had accounted for. But he assumed if they had not fallen already the plane was fine.

“Can you come help me?”

“Yeah, give me a sec.”

Isaac slung his carry-on bag over his shoulder and left his luggage in his seat. He moved through the center isle to where the voice originated from a bit further ahead of the plane. Initially he just stepped on the bodies that were in his way without another thought, but as he thought about his situation, it felt rather disrespectful. He began to step over them and attempted to make as little contact with the corpses and strewn parts as much as possible.

The paratrooper spotted the person who called out to him pinned in her seat underneath a corpse. She had a wild look about her, something very different compared to the conservative nature of the military and its dress regulations. He cocked his head for a moment as he studied the corpse on her. The body's seat belt held onto it firmly. She was all bloodied up as well, but guessing by the sound of her voice, she was more shaken than gravely injured.

“Alight, let's get that dead weight off of you,” joked Isaac.

Isaac pulled the corpse upwards, let the upper torso hang freely in the isle, and went to work at the seat belt. The buckle was obviously not functional. Either it was broken or something inside it was snagging on the release. With his Bowie knife, Isaac began to saw through the belt and in a few minutes the corpse was free. “Voilà,” he mumbled as he pulled the body into the isle.

“You seriously injured?” he asked as he dropped the corpse.

тнe lιĸeѕ oғ υѕ ✦ ѕυrvιval role play

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Interacting With: KcKenna Knowles @A Tattooed Girl

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"What the fuck? I'm alive?!" groaned Isaac.

Isaac quickly checked all over his body for injuries, and seeing that all limbs, fingers, and toes were accounted for, Isaac quickly went to work unstrapping the seat belts and throwing away the oxygen mask that covered his mouth. Though his body hurt like none other, Isaac jumped up from his seat triumphantly and shouted with a loud and thunderous "airborne!" But once the thrill of being alive worn away he was left with a deafening silence that overcame him. Bodies and blood were everywhere. It had not been the first time he had seen bodies, and in fact, a lot of them were in better shape now than bodies in the 'Stan (a 40 mm grenade from an M320 will make short work out of anyone). But it did not lessen the impact of seeing these corpses, corpses of your fellow countrymen, Americans, foreign civilians, and flight personnel strewn about the floor. Then he felt shame. Shame that he, out of all these people, good people, survived unscathed. It certainly looked like some of them suffered greatly before death. Isaac closed his eyes and said a small prayer for their souls.

After grabbing his own bag and looking through the contents, Isaac began grabbing other bags from the overhead and throwing them to the center of the isle. He would pilfer the insides later depending on how long it would take before rescue arrives. If rescue was even coming, he would leave them alone. No sense in stealing from the dead. But, if worse comes to worse, he would need everything he can get to stay alive wherever the Hell he was.

"Anyone there?"

So he was not the only survivor.

"Yo!" he called. "Can you hear me? I'm alive over here. Who else is still breathing?"

Aʀʀᴏᴡsᴍɪᴛʜ: Fʀᴇsʜᴍᴀɴ Yᴇᴀʀ

Location: Cafeteria
Interactions: | Abbie McGumffery @sakurasan |

"Hey, lovesick idiot. So, how was half of the first day of school?"

Clyde quickly rubbed his face and returned to the normal scowl planted on his face. Though, with Abbie around, it was difficult to not smile. It's how close friends are. It was impossible not feeling alive when your best friend was near you. The gal knew how to make a rainy day glow.

"Is my face that obvious?" chuckled Clyde. Not really. The boy still looked like a delinquent. More like a psychopathic delinquent with his constant blushing and random smiles.

"First half was borin'. Homeroom teacher was a little too enthusiastic for my taste. Mr. Fridley is an old school gentleman, right to the point. The way I like it. And, uh, what's his name... Mr. Schmiddt! Yeah, him, he's like homeroom. Full'a ideas 'n stuff, real happy to teach 'n all that jazz."

Clyde gave Abbie a curious glance before returning to his food. For a girl arriving at school when half the day is nearly over she looked a bit on the exhausted side. The boy knew her home life was not something desired, and it made him worry when her usual exuberant persona was not present. But how could he speak his concern? If he was as eloquent with words in his mind as he was with speech, this would be a piece of cake. And suddenly he felt selfish. It was always Abbie that was concerned with Clyde. He wanted her to know that she was not alone in this dynamic duo. It was a team effort. It said so in the contract, after all.

But Clyde also wanted to ask her if she could come along to the rec after school. It seemed rather discourteous to go from asking how she was immediately to Clyde's lack of love life. Perhaps careful wording would be good? Keep the most important topic for last. It seemed like a decent enough idea.

"So, after school, would you accompany me to the rec? I'd like to show ya' somethin' cool, yeah?"

Clyde fidgeted with his fingers for a second before turning back to Abbie.

"You... don't look so well rested for a gal who came to school late," mumbled Clyde. "Everythin' alright? Ya' know, you can always talk to me, yeah? I'll always be here for ya'."

It sounded a lot better and less awkward in his head. Clyde rubbed Abbie's shoulder with his free hand, and though it was a little rough given how he did not known his own strength, he was certain the gesture was not lost on the girl. The internet said shoulder rubs are excellent gestures of reassurance and friendship.

"Tell ya' what, even if ya' don't wanna talk, I came upon some spare cash. Let's get some ice cream! That always cheers people up! I read that on the internet," boasted Clyde.

The boy was proud of his research, though it made him sound like a complete fool.

Aʀʀᴏᴡsᴍɪᴛʜ: Fʀᴇsʜᴍᴀɴ Yᴇᴀʀ

Location: Cafeteria
Interactions: None

"Boom! Half the day is over!" thought Clyde as he moved through the cafeteria.

Aside from a little anxiety in homeroom, the rest of the classes was smooth sailing. He especially liked the fact that Mr. Fridley was all business and no games. Just the type of class Clyde could find himself disappearing into. Nothing to keep his mind on except literature and the occasional thoughts about boxing here and there. Boxing. Oh, how he loved to box. While he waited in the lunch line Clyde smiled to himself and began to shadow box. But catching the worried expressions of the students near him, the tall boy quickly stopped his charade and stuck his hands in his pockets with cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. Today's meal will be a light one, a salad with spinach, bell peppers, broccoli, and chicken breast cutlets. Maybe a banana here and there with yogurt. Gotta keep that nutrition up for training this evening. Then an idea popped into his head.

Lilac was probably going to be at the rec tonight. His heart fluttered a bit at the thought of watching her techniques causing the boy to rub his face to quickly dispel his blushing. Clyde wanted Abby to see why he was so infatuated with the girl. He did not have to hide his feelings away anymore. He knew what was happening to him, this all too strange and mesmerizing feeling in his heart. After all, the internet told him that it was love. Or an oncoming stroke. Hopefully it was the former.

I know now what you have done to me. I am but a fisherman caught in this hurricane, swallow me whole and take me for everything I am. I am weak against this torrent. Would you grant a humble request and spar with me? The sight of your graceful fight makes the blood hum in my veins. Could your fists strike the breath away from my lungs? Your eyes captivate me, ensnare-

"Next."

"Oh! Ah, sorry," apologized Clyde. He was so busy with his internal monologue he had not recognized the gap created in line. With his tray in hand, Clyde casually paid for his meal and sat down at an empty circular table. What was his idea earlier? Oh yes! Lilac. Clyde closed his eyes and rubbed his face as he focused more on his plan than the oncoming monologue building in his brain. After school Clyde would take Abby to the rec to show her Lilac in her natural environment. He got the feeling that Abby was not impressed by Lilac at the carnival. Maybe, with enough luck, Abby could see how awesome the fighter is.

The idea made Clyde smile widely in joy.

тнe lιĸeѕ oғ υѕ ✦ ѕυrvιval role play

Ah! I made the mistake of posting in the characters tab again. But I read that you did not mind where the character sheets were posted. Sorry about that.

тнe lιĸeѕ oғ υѕ ✦ ѕυrvιval role play

Regard your soldiers as your children, and they will follow you into the deepest valleys; look on them as your own beloved sons, and they will stand by you even unto death. - Sun Tzu
Machine Gun Funk - The Notorious B.I.G | Demons - The National

Full-Birth Given Name

Isaac Charles Arnaud

Preferred Name | Nickname

Arnaud

Sex Identification

Male | Heterosexual

Established In

23 Years old | Born February 11

Someone Back Home

Has a mother, father, and little sister back home.

Also Knowing

Born in San Antonio, Texas to a Haitian father and French mother, Isaac was always an ambiguous child to many. He grew up in a stable home environment and an even more stable learning environment. Most would consider is background boring, and they would be right. He never had to struggle in life as his parents were middle class. And though he did not have expensive or fancy things other kids did, he certainly had more in his life than others. He attended the University of Texas at San Antonio but dropped out in his junior year as he absolutely hated being in college. Though it was a disappointment to his parents, they still loved and cared for him.

When he was 21 he joined the United States Army as airborne infantry. His first duty station was Fort Richardson Alaska to the 4th Brigade Combat Team (Airborne) 25th Infantry Division. There, he learned many things from basic arctic survival to airborne and infantry operations. It is also here that he developed many of the 'fine' habits he carries today (such as excessive smoking, complaining, and cursing like a madman).

Personality

On the outside Isaac Arnaud is just a regular guy. Helpful to a certain degree and will always lend a hand if asked to. He will not bother others unless provoked and is not afraid of resorting to violence to solve problems. But he prefers to keep things civil between himself and others. Isaac does not believe in babysitting people and is annoyed easily by those who have no motivation to help themselves. On the inside Isaac is a very arrogant person who keeps his thoughts to himself. He believes himself to be above others physically, but knows mentally he is likely at the bottom of the totem poll. Think of him as a closeted asshole.

Quirks | Habits

Likes to bite the inside of his cheek, spits on the ground when bored, and complains a lot.

Likes & Dislikes
+ Tobacco
+ Energy Drinks
+ Shamming
+ Sleeping In
+ Drinking to Excess
+ Hunting/Fishing
+ Strip Clubs
+ Counting his ETS date
- Effeminate men
- The Weak
- Those Unwilling to Try
- Cold Weather
- The Army
In-Depth Appearance

Isaac stands 6'2 with an athletic body frame from years of physical training in the army. He has large hazel colored eyes and an ambiguous skin tone leaving many wondering what his ethnicity is. His hair is usually cut with a mid-fade, but being on permissive leave has let stubble form on his face. On the flight he wore comfortable clothing consisting of a pair of black jeans, steel-toe hiking boots, a flannel shirt, and a comfortable brown canvas jacket on top.

Accessories, Tattoos, Scars, etc.

He has a cheap watch on his left wrist that's set to 24 hour time.

Contents of Suitcase

Five pairs of clothes, extra sets of socks and undergarments, a few winter jackets here and there, laptop plus charger, and a Bowie knife from home locked in a strong box.

Contents of Carry-On Bag

Black SOC backpack with a single complete set of clothes, fifty feet of 550 cord tied in a daisy chain, ID tags, ID card, leave form, phone and charger, zippo lighter (somehow made it past security), cigarettes and dip.

Business or Pleasure?

Pleasure, returning to place of duty from leave.

Indoor or Outdoor Type?

Outdoors. Loves to hike, fish, and hunt. No experience rock climbing or hunting with a bow.

Role Play Sample

If there was one thing Isaac wanted to do, returning back to base was last on that list. He sighed heavily as he took his seat near the window and attempted to mentally prepare himself for the days ahead of him. He got lucky his command approved his leave form to attend his friend's destination wedding (an expensive one at that) and he knew he was all out of favors. At least his friends from his unit were waiting for him to return back home. Barracks life sucks, but when you have good people around you, it can make your time in the army a pleasurable one (even if there is no pleasure about being in the army). His hazel eyes glanced out the window beside him observing the tarmac. Thoughts of static line jumps popped into his head further increasing his sense of oncoming dread.

His expiration term of service was coming up, and despite the opportunities the Army Career and Alumni Program provides, he has no idea what exactly he wants to do once he gets out of the military. Thoughts of reenlisting popped up in his mind, but his days of doing dumb things in the name of busy work made him anxious that any next duty station would be any better. But who was he convincing? He knew deep down he would probably try to reenlist for Italy with the 173rd Airborne. His eyes ran through the headlines in the news. Protests, progressive leftism, continuous debates about things he had never concerned himself with confused him. Isaac did not belong in the civilian world, rather, he knew he would have trouble adapting and reintegrating himself back in the land of the free. He was used to the concrete and predictable structure the army provided. And as much as he complains about the army, he was familiar with it.

Images of being out of place in the country he swore to protect terrified him to a great extent. The feeling that he had not done enough with his life, that he wasted precious years fighting in a hellhole with nothing to show for it, caused deep thoughts of inadequacy to plague his mind. If he were to be honest, he felt like he was left behind. Friends from college and high school were already beginning great careers, traveling the world, getting married, and building their families. It made his own life feel pathetic in comparison. What did he have to show for it? A few combat deployments and a whole lot of bad memories. Isaac is definitely skipping his high school reunion.

“I just want to disappear,” he thought.

Aʀʀᴏᴡsᴍɪᴛʜ: Fʀᴇsʜᴍᴀɴ Yᴇᴀʀ

Location: Carnival to Homeroom
Interactions: | Derek O'Leary @alexfangtalon | Jacob McKinnon @smarty0114 |

Clyde could only stand back and watch as these two powerhouses shot back and forth, a verbal exchange of wits and mental intimidation. It was like watching a battle unfold before his eyes, artillery being fired into the open, explosive insults shattering the ground, two sides refusing to budge in this no man's land. Then Jacob reached up and condescendingly ruffled Clyde's hair. The hair on the back of the boy's neck stood up and adrenaline pulsed through his veins. He kept his hands to himself and closed his eyes. He imagined the fight he had in the ring with another heavy weight boxer. Check hook to the jaw spinning the boy's head so hard his brain slammed against the inside of his skull. Knocked poor Perry Drew unconscious. He felt a little bad for hurting his opponent, but Perry fought hard like a true warrior.

“Ain't that right Clydey?”

The group disappeared leaving Clyde able to breath normally again. He hated confrontation like this. Sometimes Clyde wondered what it would be like if he lived up to the rumors surrounding him and used his strength to take control over others. If there was anything Jacob McKinnon was good for in Clyde's life, he was able to dispel Clyde's reputation as a bully. But only those who were 'in the know' were well aware of the tension between the two.

“So, Clydesdale. Seems you have a pest problem. Don't worry though. It won't last long. Just, in the meantime learn to shrug it off. Do what I do and casually talk about the crap that doesn't bother you that others would use against you in a natural way and it may throw them off their game. Or just pretend you don't hear them. If they try anything physical me and my gang'll back you up in an instant. Don't worry. We have got your back.”

Was it that easy? Clyde did have his faults, his naughty and angry thoughts, but they were just that. Thoughts. It was difficult for Clyde to speak ill of someone and even more difficult to play the game Derek was a master of. In Clyde's eyes, Derek was a warrior of a different caliber. A boy that could brave the face of a coming storm, standing tall, mighty, unwavering in his resolve. An idol of a spoken God. It felt good to have another friend.

“I... You... Thank you.”

And that came from the heart.

The homeroom teacher seemed nice enough. But he still preferred to sit at the back of the classroom away from many of those he recognized. And unfortunately for Clyde, there were a lot of familiar faces in this classroom. He felt nervousness until the teacher began her class. She passed out pieces of paper for everyone to decorate, but Clyde could only stare at the paper with a dilemma running through his mind. He was not so creative in the visual arts. Inside his own mind he was a natural orator, perhaps a poet of sorts (though he refused to believe himself to be anything like Lord Byron out of modesty), and he enjoyed having a monologue in his mind.

So what did the boy do? He certainly did not have the courage to write what was in his mind. Instead, he drew himself. Or what he thought of himself. A spineless ugly troll sitting by itself. The teacher had them crumple the paper and flatten it out again. She said something along the lines of the effects of bullying, but the words were lost on the boy. He stared at the image and could only think about how much this paper resembled himself. Torn at the edges, unsightly, crumpled, and weakened. He did not have the heart to throw away the paper. So he stuffed it inside his pocket.

Nathan said three things, he liked to swim, he's not much of a singer, and he lived in Japan for a time. Clyde had awful perception, so he believed everything that came out of the boy's mouth to be the truth. It made the image of the guy a lot more interesting. Maybe he is a really good singer, I wonder what he likes to sing? It was a fun distraction, but Clyde absolutely did not want his turn to come. He prayed something would happen for him to go last. Maybe if he looked menacing the teacher would ignore him.

Aʀʀᴏᴡsᴍɪᴛʜ: Fʀᴇsʜᴍᴀɴ Yᴇᴀʀ

@alexfangtalon

There is a response, but I kept erasing what I had because it seemed to boring. I'll get a proper reply up tonight.

Aʀʀᴏᴡsᴍɪᴛʜ: Fʀᴇsʜᴍᴀɴ Yᴇᴀʀ

Location: Carnival
Interactions: | Derek O'Leary @alexfangtalon | Jacob McKinnon @smarty0114 |

"How's it going Clydey? Glad you could take time away from all that boxing and animal skinning to come visit the carnival, freak."

Oh, how his words stung. Clyde wanted nothing more than to disappear from the world entirely, but friends of McKinnon surrounded him on all sides. It reminded him when he went to the zoo as a child. A little monkey trapped in a cage surrounded by unfamiliar faces. They threw peanuts at the monkey when it refused to acknowledge their existence, and it sat alone in its enclosure. Could the monkey understand what they were trying to say to it? It was a foreigner in a land where its language was not understood. And that's how Clyde felt. He was a prisoner in this caged circus, impossible to escape from, forever performing for those he could never understand. And their words were thrown at him without mercy for their entertainment. Is this what I am to you? Am I but a slave to your torment? Am I to beg for your mercy? Pantheon of Gods, I stand as man, a little plaything for powers superior to I.

"I... I don't skin animals," mumbled Clyde. Even then he could not look Jacob in his eyes. He hated how he could not defend himself. Abbie has so much energy within her, so much personal courage, and when she defended him there was fire. That's what Clyde wanted to be. He wanted to be strong for himself. But could a man, with only a pick in hand, break down a mountain by himself? With all your useless muscles and all your useless strength. Hide away, you meek child, like a hermit to the world. Peasant among kings and queens, your presence is not wanted nor will it ever be needed.

"So, step back ya rich little muppet."

Did he hear that right? Clyde had retreated in his mind for a brief moment, but when he returned to see if the storm had passed, Derek O'Leary let out this whirlwind of verbal punches to Jacob and his friends. Clyde stood wide-eyed with his jaw dropped. The wind caught his face and he could finally see the valley beyond the mountains, for a giant had picked him up and raised him from the muck.