Magister

Survival: A Zombie Apocalypse RP

Name: Roderic Montana
Age: 34
Looks:
Skills: Weapons Handling, CQC Savant, Espionage, Tactics, driving, field medicine, and entry level mechanics. (can fix a car, but he couldn't build a water pump)
Loyalty: Neither
Rank in Organization: N/A
Bio Before the Outbreak: Prior to the outbreak, Montana was a mercenary who specialized in small scale field missions, single target acquisition, and espionage. His resume included numerous conflicts in the European theater, a few acts of high treason, and several tours on the Dark Continent. He was hunting an African Warlord when the outbreak started. Much to the chagrin of the local government he had been working for, Montana instead turned his attention to the rumors of 'Human Rabies" and tried to find the origin of the disease.
Bio After the Outbreak: His investigation had turned up mixed results, and ground zero was far too hot for even he to penetrate. Using the contacts he had made while in the field, he secured passage to his fathers home country, the United States, rather than his mothers home, and the place of his upbringing, Great Britain.

His fathers ancestral lands called to him. Within his British blood pumped the echos of Indigenous American. Now seemed like a good a time as any to go to his fathers homeland.

By now, it had already spread to the U.S, and upon disembarking had to elude boarder control agents who, by dubious means, were ensuring that no hint of the virus would touch their shores by boat.

Montana's life since then was a smattering of mercenary work, survival, and involvement in several large scale conflicts, the largest being a bloody confrontation between a large group of former military members, and a smaller group of spooks who wanted to topple this rising power.

Fresh off of that final conflict, Montana, and a truck with munitions hidden beneath innocuous looking junk, enteredt of the City of Atlanta.

DC New Generation of Heroes

Sounds good! :D

Survival: A Zombie Apocalypse RP

Name: Roderic Montana
Age: 34
Looks:
Skills: Weapons Handling, CQC Savant, Espionage, Tactics, driving, field medicine, and entry level mechanics. (can fix a car, but he couldn't build a water pump)
Loyalty: Neither
Rank in Organization: N/A
Bio Before the Outbreak: Prior to the outbreak, Montana was a mercenary who specialized in small scale field missions, single target acquisition, and espionage. His resume included numerous conflicts in the European theater, a few acts of high treason, and several tours on the Dark Continent. He was hunting an African Warlord when the outbreak started. Much to the chagrin of the local government he had been working for, Montana instead turned his attention to the rumors of 'Human Rabies" and tried to find the origin of the disease.
Bio After the Outbreak: His investigation had turned up mixed results, and ground zero was far too hot for even he to penetrate. Using the contacts he had made while in the field, he secured passage to his fathers home country, the United States, rather than his mothers home, and the place of his upbringing, Great Britain.

His fathers ancestral lands called to him. Within his British blood pumped the echos of Indigenous American. Now seemed like a good a time as any to go to his fathers homeland.

By now, it had already spread to the U.S, and upon disembarking had to elude boarder control agents who, by dubious means, were ensuring that no hint of the virus would touch their shores by boat.

Montana's life since then was a smattering of mercenary work, survival, and involvement in several large scale conflicts, the largest being a bloody confrontation between a large group of former military members, and a smaller group of spooks who wanted to topple this rising power.

Fresh off of that final conflict, Montana, and a truck with munitions hidden beneath innocuous looking junk, enteredt of the City of Atlanta.

DC New Generation of Heroes

I'm interested in joining as a newer anti-hero, but one who simply stayed out of the circuit for a while.

Like an older character.

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

"Give em what they want usually." Makorai gave his own answer, rather than wait for the rhetorical point to continue making itself. Spying his other two team mates, he smiles, and gave them a wink. The young man got up from his sitting position, and dragging his chair to where they were standing. "Kinda like the lovely Amity said. If anything stops your clock, it would be one of those. I usually just give em some food if they're hungry. Bit of drink.

Makorai sat down again, but not before offering both Amity, and Dawn, who seemed a bit subdued to drink during training, but assumptions makes asses right? So he offered her some as well.

"No point in fighting over food if there's some to spare."

Makorai produced a sniper barrel, stock, and receiver, plus the trappings from his bag. He worked while he spoke, but kept his eyes on the Jotun body. His sniper was a strange one. The bayonet was longer than normal, and lightly curved toward the tip. there were two fist sized handles on the lower part of the receiver, and various places on the frame were lined with reinforced material.

"I mean fighting them? I'd take three pack of Vargs, close range with just my tactical mauser over another Jotun.

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

"Oh the training room? Yeah, I know where that is kid. Come on. In a benign show of the natural camaraderie Makorai was born with, he slung a friendly arm around the shorter males shoulder, and steered them both toward the training room. After what was really no time at all, given their close proximity "You really must never leave your room, I've been here for a bit and I haven't seen you, but hey, all that's gonna change real soon.

When they rounded the corner, he detached himself from Morgan, and slid inside. The sake in the cup vanished into his mouth, and the cup and sake mysteriously vanished as well.

"Figured you looked tougher than running out before our first battle." This comment was directed at Rae, accompanied by a small, but earnest smile.

"A change of pace for you eh?" He said to Maeve, an obvious reference to her time as a bouncer.

True to form, Makorai glided beyond the empty spaces at the front, and took a seat at the very back of the room.

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

That Madison girl was cute. Too cute. There was something too put together about that one. Probably meant she was a warg, and spirits knew he wasn't going down that road a second time in his short life.

Someone had said something about drinking? He thought? No, he confirmed mentally. It wasn't drinking, that was just his thoughts getting away from him. Someone had said something about training, and,

Makorai stopped. Mr Lovette, That's what Clifton had said. Mr. Lovette. That was a man.

....

The quarter and a half full cup of scotch hopped coffee shot down his throat, and the scalding heat proved to be the least painful thing to happen to him in the last ten minutes.

"Nope. I'm not dealing with that." The young man stood without warning, and promptly walked toward the exist of the hallway. "Not this early in the morning. Fuck it."

Passing the assembled persons in the hallway without acknowledgement, he made a right, and followed a long hallway down to where his storage locker was located. "I left it in here...I'm sure I did." Some slight rummaging later, he found what he had been looking for. It was a 1.8 liter bottle of sake, cheap stuff that he could get for next to nothing in the local market. Some kind of local brew. His favourite.

Stashing the bottle, and a cup, under his arm, he made his way to where he thought he heard other voices.

Rounding the corner, he came face to face with someone he didn't immediately recognize. He could tell Morgan was a dude, but he was a pretty one. This made Makorai more comfortable. He didn't confuse his libido like Maddison had when he first walked in.

"You lost too?" Makorai bit the top off of his bottle, and poured himself a cup.

"I don't know where the hell I'm going either."

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

"Never bothered me Maeve, I was banned from where you work. Something about an unpaid tab and property damage. Makorai held a single finger up, and moved to grab them both a cup of coffee. Suffice to say, the situation unfolding beside them had deescalated to a level where his attention was no longer warranted.

"Thanks for the coffee" He flashed Helena a winning smile, followed by a small head nod. "Dig the sweater. Makorai returned to his seat, and offered Maeve a coffee, after quickly, and discretely emptying the scotch into their morning brews.

"Took the liberty of giving you a pick me up, if it ain't your think. Well. More for me. Aloha."

He nodded in the direction of Silvarae and Oren, who, despite the former's benign tone, seemed to be making a point with her questioning in regards to going outside of the city walls.

"Lot of pent up aggression there. They might benefit from a massage, I bet ol' iron hands knows a thing or two about massages.

More loudly this time, loud enough for the room to hear.

"Maybe we should all go on a bonding field trip out of the city limits. Maybe bring some food, drinks. Music. Oh, and a chaperone because we aren't allowed out there alone.

Makorai wasn't insulting either woman, rather, he was taking a playful jab at one of the more draconian policies he'd been forced to accept as a Rune bearer.

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

The sudden outward explosion of doors forced Makorai's attention away from the cross-legged woman he was connecting with, and toward the sudden appearance of Uruz. He hadn't paid attention to most of what the kind folks who gave him a place to crash in had said, but something about the sudden show of force had pulled this word association right from his subconscious. Her apology indicated a temperament that hopefully tempered her strength. Hopefully.

Getting slapped was one thing, getting thrown through a wall wasn't an experience he wanted.

Another girl was offering muffins.

Perfect. He hadn't eaten yet today, and the sake he had stashed in the training room bathroom probably needed something to sit on anyway.

"Pretty girl with Muffins? How could I say no. Thanks, I'm Makorai, Mako to friends." He cheerfully took one, and, ignoring Clifton and Oren's hesitation entirely, tossed a second to his cross legged rune claiming friend across the room. The muffin arced into the air, passed harmlessly over Clifton during the descent, and landed squarely in the crook of her lap, right side up, despite his line of sight being cut off from the bespoke blonde.

He turned back to Maave who has spoken again, and the slow look of realization crossed his face.

"Hey, I know you. Iron Hand Bryne. Toughest bouncer on the strip. I know a few guys who avoid your shift religiously"

The Runes (In Need of Players!)

The blonde one didn't even bother to respond to him, and, from his perspective, eyed him with something too arrogant for contempt. The look itself near elicited an involuntary laugh from Makorai who was no stranger to the gaze. "That bruise must hurt. Well earned I bet."

The other one, Dawn with the delicate looking skin, seemed to be the most mature out of the trio. More careful he'd say.

Another feminine voice rang in his ears, this one curled quite unlike the accents of the other ones. A mile different sounding from the pretty blonde, or the porcelain faced girl with the dark hair, but like them, she sounded like she took herself very seriously. The redhead seemed similar spirited to himself but...there was something about the way her swagger worked, something he figured he could put his finger on, but not without jumping to conclusions. "Thanks Isa." He replied, moving his head backward to look at her. 'Isa like what I see.' Makorai paused. That was terrible. That one was best kept to himself. Probably until he died. He had a vault of those. One liners that never made it. Another one for the vault.

Not a single male face in sight. Makorai figured that it referenced what his disposition was more geared toward. No way it was mere coincidence that he was given a rune along with all of these frankly gorgeous women. Must reflect on who he was more comfortable around. Made complete sense, men were garbage.

Breaking this musing was a fun sized creature that came tumbling through the window behind him.

Her first comment on coconuts finished that involuntary reaction Silvarae started. "Big, small, some as big as your head." he continued, finishing the mid part to the old drinking song.

"Mine is in a naughty place too." He responded. "I think I'll show you mine, you show me yours is a bit too schoolyard for us.

He relatively suspicious entrance would have piqued Makorai's interest a little more, had it been a a man sitting cross legged on the floor before him. He wasn't particularly smart, other than was was granted by his rune, and he had the deductive skill of someone who had been around the block a few times.

She was distracting though, distracting enough to mitigate his suspicion.

Makorai wiggled his body slightly. That nip of scotch he smuggled in was starting to sit weird.