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Aviel glanced briefly at the others - first the child, then the space woman - as they spoke, pausing to try and process what had been said. The space woman, Aviel concluded, was looking for direction from the tall woman; the child's words gave her more trouble. Aviel did hear the word "cold"; the child was smiling, so she likely wasn't complaining about the temperature; she was sewing, perhaps she had said something about that?

Aviel shook her head; whatever had been said, it obviously wasn't important.

As she reached the dining area, she noticed a half-empty crate pushed off to one side. Upon further inspection she found it to contain food and water, enough for a few days at least. She was relieved at this discovery, as it meant they had a little bit of time to regroup and figure out what else needs to be done. As a signal to the others, she picked it up and carefully dropped it onto the table. The goal was to make some noise but not enough to echo out the door and alert any potential bandits; her efforts to do so were only mostly successful.

The tall girl was speaking now. Aviel didn't bother listening to her words; she was too distracted to try and decipher them. She began collecting the pots and pans and stacking them next to the rations. Most of them looked unusable for cooking, but she figured they could probably find some other use for them.

Then the tall girl's tone changed. Aviel looked up to find the new arrival - a man? Without thinking Aviel dropped the pot she was holding and quickly pulled out her pistol, aiming it at the stranger. It was only then that she noticed the knife in his hand. A scowl crossed her face; what the hell was he doing? Where did he come from? And did he really think he was a match for them?

... Was he alone? A slight panic rose in Aviel's throat as she considered the possibility that he might have companions waiting outside, out of their view. Was this their home? No - this placed belonged to Aviel and her group now. They had come a long way before finding it, and she wasn't about to give it up without a solid fight.

She took a single step closer and steadied her aim. She wasn't going to shoot unless she had to - bullets were scarce, after all - but she also wasn't about to let this man get away with whatever he came here to do.
Aight no worries. I'll post when I get home
Just wondering if we're following a strict posting order?
I'm going away until Sunday and I want to get mine in before I leave, so as not to hold everything up.
Also, who's gonna be the leader of the group, I wonder?


My vote is definitely for the girl who doesn't speak English well (jk)
Oop, I misread the first post x.x My bad, I'll edit mine so it makes more sense.

Edit: done.
@BubblegumQueen, is it okay for me to assume that Aviel has some kind of waterproof container for her maps and matches? Didn't think about that when I wrote up her inventory xD
Aviel lingered in the doorway for a bit as she surveyed her new... living space. Her deep brown eyes passed slowly over every surface, taking stock of what they had and what they would need. Crates in what appeared to be a dining area; possibly full, definitely useful. Beds, with storage for each. Looks like there's not enough for everyone. How... unfortunate? She wasn't sure that was the word she should use, considering the condition of what few beds there were. She tapped her jaw a couple times, and then slowly crossed into the space she was pretty sure she would have to call home.

She first wandered over to the sleeping area. Passed the girl wearing what Aviel could only assume was a space suit, carefully touched the mattress on the next cot over. Damp, probably mouldy. The next one was even worse: it appeared nearly soaked through, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was ready to collapse under the weight of whoever was unfortunate enough to pick last. Turned her attention to the hammocks, but only briefly; she decided quickly that she didn't trust the rope that held the rickety things together.

...Mouldy bed it is then.

Aviel turned to the space woman and made a curt noise to get her attention. "Mine," she announced, motioning toward the bed. It was the most Aviel had said to this woman since they had met. In fact, she had barely spoken a word to any of the group she currently traveled with. Aviel couldn't even be sure that she had given them her name - she certainly hadn't gotten any of theirs. Her decision to travel with these people was purely one of survival: they seemed capable, and she no longer wished to travel alone.

She opened the chest at the foot of her bed, but lost interest upon finding it empty. Her attention then wandered to the crates in the dining area. She slowly crossed the room and began going through each, checking to see if anything of use to them had been left behind.



Aviel Cohen
23 years old

personality
Aviel is, at first glance, quiet and reserved. She doesn't speak much, even when spoken to; when she does, she tends to use short sentences and gets straight to the point. She tries very hard not to show any outward emotions, and most of the time, she succeeds. She is very goal-oriented, especially when venturing to the surface, and gets visibly annoyed when others don't behave the same way.

Beneath the cold, rough exterior, however, is the same bright, free-spirited girl she has always been. She loves cooking for others, and she loves watching them enjoy what she has made for them... even if she doesn't always act like it. And despite the fact that she never seems to laugh, Aviel actually does have a sense of humour - and a dark one at that.

Sometimes she wishes she could show that softer side of herself more freely... but then again, an apocalyptic wasteland isn't exactly the place for that, is it?

biography
Aviel was the first daughter of two, born to her parents just six months before they immigrated from Israel to Brooklyn. She remembers her childhood fondly: her father and mother opened a modestly successful restaurant, where Aviel and her younger sister often helped both in the kitchen and in the dining room. Both girls attended the same private, all-girls school. The family lived a good, comfortable life.

Then came the bombs. Aviel remembers that day, much more clearly than she cares to admit: she had faked illness and skipped school. She remembers laying in bed, reading a book; suddenly hearing explosions, seeing flashes; she remembers her father, in a panic, grabbing her hair and dragging her down into the basement. Her mother sobbing on the other end of the phone because her sister was missing. Her father demanding that Aviel stay hidden before locking her in the basement with all the food and water he could find. She remembers waiting there, although for how long, she could never be sure. Running out of food first, and then water. She remembers breaking her way out of the basement with what little strength she had, because she knew none of them were coming back.

Aviel struggled to survive at first. She went from house to house, searching for families that she knew, hoping that one of them might have been better prepared. Eventually she found the adult brother of a classmate; he was the first to introduce her to the sewers, and brought her into his group, made up primarily of his own peers. Although they were reluctant to accept her at first, Aviel earned their acceptance by proving she was a capable cook. They taught her valuable skills needed in order to survive on the surface, and she kept them fed as best she could.

After nine years, and for reasons she refuses to talk about, Aviel willingly left this group and began bouncing between other pockets of survivors. She's recently stumbled upon a new group, and has decided to settle for the time being and see how things work out.

relationships
none yet

what she originally brought
- her semi-automatic pistol & ammo
- hand-drawn maps of the surface, written in Hebrew
- candles & matches

skills/abilities
cooking: thanks to her experience working in her parents' restaurant, as well as being the main chef for her previous group, Aviel is quite skilled at cooking edible meals from little resources.

firearm proficiency: one of the first skills her first group taught her was how to properly use firearms to defend herself. She prefers pistols, and most of her knowledge and skill lays there; however she can still hold her own with larger guns if need be.

physical strength: Aviel is no longer the frail child who had to struggle to free herself from the basement. While no where near the strongest person alive, she can lift and carry a considerable amount more than the average female survivor. She can also hold her own in a physical fight.

good sense of direction: Aviel has always been good at not getting lost; learning to live in the labyrinth that is the sewers has only fine-tuned that skill.

perceptive: Aviel is quick to notice when things are out of place, or if something seems to be lurking around the environment.

weaknesses
suspicious: Aviel has a hard time trusting new people. She regards them with suspicion, and often assumes anyone willing to help her has ulterior motives. Her trust must be earned, but sometimes even she isn't sure how that can be done.

cold: Aviel's lack of trust tends to translate into an apparent lack of empathy for those around her. While this isn't always the case, she sees no reason why she should try to convince her companions otherwise.

language barrier: because she spent so long speaking almost exclusively Hebrew, Aviel often struggles with speaking and understanding English.

other
Aviel can read English to a certain extent, but she cannot write it.
Finally got a chance to sit down and work on my character. Sorry it took so long!



By the way @BubblegumQueen I grew up just outside NYC, so if you need any help with locations, realism or anything like that, feel free to ask :)
hey all, figured I'd stop by and say hello before jumping in :)
currently reading through everything now, I'll probably post a character later tonight
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