RavensMuse

Toxoplasmosa Outbreak

Moved over!

Toxoplasmosa Outbreak

The Saint

Grace Mercedes



"I know it sucks, and it's scary, but it's time to be brave!"

NAME
Grace Antimony Folkvar

OTHER NAMES
The Tattooed Wanderer, the Saint.

GENDER
Female

SEXUALITY
Hetro

AGE
27

Equipment
A 1988 Soft-tail Motorbike

RACE
Caucasian

GROUP
Loner

PERSONALITY

Grace has a calm demenour for someone who spends most her life outside the wall. She has a warm spot for innocents, often breaking her icy silence when in camps with little ones. She has a passion for art, and will often try to decorate her camps with murals.

She loves books, and will often trade with any survivors for new books to read. She is rarely comfortable sleeping in camps now, preferring her makeshift home atop an apartment building. She's created a garden, a water distilling barrel and her own solar grid she traded with another camp for the creation of. The camp was happy to have a sniper in their area looking out for them, and the rumors of the Saint were favorable with most.

HISTORY

Grace "The Saint" Folkvar was an artist who was fascinated with angels and winged guardians before the outbreak. Often painting massive murals to brighten up her neighborhood. She donated her time to charities, youth groups, and generally had a very positive outlook on life. Her fiance at the time, was a marine who'd deployed overseas at the time of the outbreak.

Once the outbreak began, she did her best to keep those around her calm. Trying to encourage everyone to work together, and attempt to keep some semblance of a normal life for the little ones. This is where her "Saint" moniker came from, she always tried to be positive, that each day could improve. Her spirits improved when her fiance even returned to find their little holdout sanctuary from the madness outside.

Then the Toxo's hit them, looting and injuring many. Grace stood by frozen as she realized how much her "good spirits" offered them. As the day ended, she approached her fiance with a simple request. To be a protector, the warmth in her eyes changed to something icy and distant. Grace had some natural aptitude with firearms, especially long distance rifles. Something about her calm nature allowed her to pick her targets with simple and almost effortless precision. Her fiance, somewhat worried about what she was becoming tried to reason with Grace. She pointed to the graves dug for the innocent lives lost thanks to the Toxo's, she would never be helpless again.

Admitting she had a point, he continued to teach her with both pistol, rifle, and even how to improvise small explosives in a pinch. Eventually on a scavenging mission, she acquired weapons of her own. A beat up 1911 and her favorite find to date, a fully restored Dragonuv Sniper Rifle. Each morning, she'd practice with the rifle, snapping heads of infected until the rifle felt like it was an extension of herself.

Then the toxo's came back...

Ready this time, Grace and her fiance worked side by side along with the camp of survivors. They fought admirably, even held their ground for a decent time. Yet, they were overwhelmed. Grace lost sight of her fiance as he was run down by a horde of toxos. Drawing her pistol, she ran to the edge of her platform, to see a pair of explosives strapped to her sniping tower. She saw him fall, then the earth shattering explosion knocked her out.

Awakening to nothing more then ruins, the camp overrun. Everyone was dead, or gone. Her fiance was missing. A group of survivors had come by to rescue any survivors, and found the injured Grace. They nursed her back to health, and when she was good enough to move once again. Grace took her weapons, enough ammo to survive, and her fiance's duster.

The rumors of the Saint began shortly after, camps of pillaging survivors, slave camps, and invaders meeting with a grisly end. A white pair of wings painted as a reminder.

The Saint is watching.

Run...

SKILLS

Mechanical:
Small vehicle repair
Weapon salvage and repair
Field medicine, improvised

Tactical:
Strategy, defensive
Long Range Sniping
Improvised Explosives

Artist

WEAPONS

1911 Special
Dragonuv SVD
Pipe Bombs
Kukri

OTHERS

Spraypainted the same pair of wings on her duster as she leaves at any camp she's attacked.

Theme Song

Apartment Rp in a weird/funny city

I'd be interested in this too!

Toxoplasmosa Outbreak

The Saint

Grace Mercedes



"I know it sucks, and it's scary, but it's time to be brave!"

NAME
Grace Antimony Folkvar

OTHER NAMES
The Tattooed Wanderer, the Saint.

GENDER
Female

SEXUALITY
Hetro

AGE
27

Equipment
A 1988 Soft-tail Motorbike

RACE
Caucasian

GROUP
Loner

PERSONALITY

Grace has a calm demenour for someone who spends most her life outside the wall. She has a warm spot for innocents, often breaking her icy silence when in camps with little ones. She has a passion for art, and will often try to decorate her camps with murals.

She loves books, and will often trade with any survivors for new books to read. She is rarely comfortable sleeping in camps now, preferring her makeshift home atop an apartment building. She's created a garden, a water distilling barrel and her own solar grid she traded with another camp for the creation of. The camp was happy to have a sniper in their area looking out for them, and the rumors of the Saint were favorable with most.

HISTORY

Grace "The Saint" Folkvar was an artist who was fascinated with angels and winged guardians before the outbreak. Often painting massive murals to brighten up her neighborhood. She donated her time to charities, youth groups, and generally had a very positive outlook on life. Her fiance at the time, was a marine who'd deployed overseas at the time of the outbreak.

Once the outbreak began, she did her best to keep those around her calm. Trying to encourage everyone to work together, and attempt to keep some semblance of a normal life for the little ones. This is where her "Saint" moniker came from, she always tried to be positive, that each day could improve. Her spirits improved when her fiance even returned to find their little holdout sanctuary from the madness outside.

Then the Toxo's hit them, looting and injuring many. Grace stood by frozen as she realized how much her "good spirits" offered them. As the day ended, she approached her fiance with a simple request. To be a protector, the warmth in her eyes changed to something icy and distant. Grace had some natural aptitude with firearms, especially long distance rifles. Something about her calm nature allowed her to pick her targets with simple and almost effortless precision. Her fiance, somewhat worried about what she was becoming tried to reason with Grace. She pointed to the graves dug for the innocent lives lost thanks to the Toxo's, she would never be helpless again.

Admitting she had a point, he continued to teach her with both pistol, rifle, and even how to improvise small explosives in a pinch. Eventually on a scavenging mission, she acquired weapons of her own. A beat up 1911 and her favorite find to date, a fully restored Dragonuv Sniper Rifle. Each morning, she'd practice with the rifle, snapping heads of infected until the rifle felt like it was an extension of herself.

Then the toxo's came back...

Ready this time, Grace and her fiance worked side by side along with the camp of survivors. They fought admirably, even held their ground for a decent time. Yet, they were overwhelmed. Grace lost sight of her fiance as he was run down by a horde of toxos. Drawing her pistol, she ran to the edge of her platform, to see a pair of explosives strapped to her sniping tower. She saw him fall, then the earth shattering explosion knocked her out.

Awakening to nothing more then ruins, the camp overrun. Everyone was dead, or gone. Her fiance was missing. A group of survivors had come by to rescue any survivors, and found the injured Grace. They nursed her back to health, and when she was good enough to move once again. Grace took her weapons, enough ammo to survive, and her fiance's duster.

The rumors of the Saint began shortly after, camps of pillaging survivors, slave camps, and invaders meeting with a grisly end. A white pair of wings painted as a reminder.

The Saint is watching.

Run...

SKILLS

Mechanical:
Small vehicle repair
Weapon salvage and repair
Field medicine, improvised

Tactical:
Strategy, defensive
Long Range Sniping
Improvised Explosives

Artist

WEAPONS

1911 Special
Dragonuv SVD
Pipe Bombs
Kukri

OTHERS

Spraypainted the same pair of wings on her duster as she leaves at any camp she's attacked.

Theme Song

Just a normal high school?

Pretty sure I'll go with the strange artist girl

The Three Realms War [Act II] [DMC/Bayonetta/Darksiders Crossover]

This looks very interesting. Still an opening left?

The White Lotus Prophecy - An Avatar (TV series) based RP

If this is still a thing, I'd be happy to join!

Zombie Survival

Interested if there's room for one more!

Glades Fall High School

Post up, free game for whoever wants to deal with Lorelei!

Glades Fall High School

Lorelei sighed as she felt the eyes of several students on her, her tattoos, and drawing down to the thick black plastic anklet with the green light. Almost poking fun at her.

Drawing her heavy hood around her head, she hefted her beat up backpack and went into the school. She knew where she had to go first. The admittance office, to give the file folder and the contacts for Officer Martinez. She asked a few students where to find the office, some gave general directions, some simply dismissed her. She made a note to avoid those students later. She knew she was going to be closely watched, and should act accordingly. No way Martinez would give her a break for fighting...

Eventually Lorelei found the office, a plump woman with a blue jacket sat at the desk inside. Lorelei stood there nervously, weighing back and forth on the balls of her feet, to her insteps as she waited for the woman to look up. She barely moved as the woman gestured to the folder tray beside her. "That's the input folder Ms Athene."

Lorelei stammered for a moment as she placed the folder as requested. "Uh, how did you know my name?" The woman looked up from her terminal, glancing down towards her ankle monitor.

"Lorelei Athene, aka Muse, convicted for 17 counts of graffiti, only girl on school properties with an ankle monitor. I extrapolated from there." The woman looked back down to her terminal as she continued her data entry. "You can go now, I am sure the principle will want to meet you eventually." Lorelei opened her mouth for a moment to respond, but closed it shortly again. The woman added, "I hope you don't think your instructors will refer to you by your pretty little "street name" on these grounds."

"Thank you." Lorelei left the office, the anger and humiliation brewing insider her. She still had a little time before she had to be in classes. She should go find her locker, reading the tiny slip provided in her welcome package. She followed the numbers until she found the locker's location.

Spinning the locker, the combination didn't work. The woman's dismissing sentence kept echoing back in her head. The combination lock didn't open, trying again, feeling her hands tremble with a mixture of anger and humiliation. The lock failed again, Lorelei let go of the lock in an attempt to calm her hands down. Pacing back and forth, she did what Martinez recommended. The stupid counting exercises, "one, two, three...ARG!" Lorelei hurled her backpack against the closest locker in frustration, the canvas back thudded against the locker before sliding to the floor. The impact wasn't quite solid enough for Lorelei, so she decided to kick the offending locker as hard as she could. The metallic thud of her shoe against the locker resounded with a loud whump! Lorelei looked at the other students who came to see what had happened, she stared blankly at the crowd watching her meltdown.

She stared blankly before challenging the students, "yes, it's an ankle monitor. No, the locker had it coming. Any other questions?" She tried to keep the edge out of her voice, but it slowly crept in against her will.