Futuristic A Frozen World (Casual - Detailed)

[The Shadow Realm]

#000000[/URL]]
Name: Jay "Celsus" Preddus


Age: 27


Gender: Male


Sexuality: Bisexual


Appearance:

Faction: Nomad.


Personality: For one thing, Jay's quite cautious. He wishes not to repeat his past mistakes, and will dwell on that concept often when given a quiet moment. This event also causes Jay to be quite indecisive, choosing things carefully.


Bio:


Jay was a member of a now-forgotten encampment, who was tasked with finding a cache of supplies that had been uncovered from search parties. However, after getting lost in unfamiliar terrain, Jay soon started to wander, with no particular goal. Along this journey, he slowly picked up the art of trade, sharing stories and bartering to get by. One of his first stories was his departure from the camp. This is not used often, however, as the story spread quite a bit since he started telling it.


The encampment itself was quite shoddy. "Buildings" like large tents and hastily constructed boxes dotted the small area. Jay himself had come there as a general worker, as the camp was desperately trying to reverse-engineer basic hydroponics, and to create some artificial seeds. Although no-one was fully aware at the time, the only scientist working on the hydroponics was planning to sabotage the encampment. The point at which Jay went out to get the supplies would've been right before the sabotage attempt.


Jay's childhood had been spent in the community. He grew up in a decently isolated town, so everyone had helped eachother. However, when he was able to, he left town, and got work in the nearest town over. This had lead to him staying at the encampment, from having no work but odd jobs. All the positions had been filled within the town, and Jay was too poor after making his journey to that town to consider going to the next one. Either way, the encampment had looked like a nicely paying job at the time, so he took it.


Inventory: A small trade pouch, containing various, obscure dollar currencies and an old photograph from early 2040.


The pistol seen in the picture, along with a small smg/rifle type weapon.


A radio that doesn't seem to work.


Skillset: Bartering.


Travel, due to being a Nomad. This includes both physical and mental features.

Accepted, also sorry for the late reply - I didn't receive a notification.


@Goldra

 

[The Shadow Realm]

U l y s s e s --- I n n s m o u t h
-------- " The Wendigo of The Wastes "


WIP

• Basic Info
• Advance Info
• Skills and Loadout

• 
  
  
  ----Name | Ulysses Innsmouth
  
  
  ----Appearance | Standing around at a 6'3 height and weighing a 250 pounds, Ulysses is not toned and more displays a raw amount of muscle and bulk. He appears to be mixed race between Middle-Eastern and European Caucasian leading to a slight tanned, but mostly Caucasian look about him. lysses is a man who has his fair share of scars and bruises, mostly on his body and face. Dark Brown-black eyes and near black-brown hair are not rare but they are what they are.
  
  
  ---Age | 35
  
  
  ===Gender | Male
  
  
  ---Sexuality | Heterosexual
  
  
  ---Faction | [Current] The Outcasts
  
  
  
  
  
  ----Faction History | Ulysses had joined The Outcasts out of curiosity by his statements, in truth he may have done it in order to act out his tendencies without much retaliation. Despite the speculation on why he joined and what brought him there, but so far he has been able to rise up the ranks and gain infamy. Acting as if he has impunity in Outcast territories (Which he may or may not do have). Ulysses within the Outcasts is classified as someone who eliminates certain individuals, even certain Outcast members who have proved to be more of a hassle to control. Technically he's a cleaner. A damn good one at that. There's rumor that his name was something of a talk within H.E.A.T. however unsubstantiated rumors are often the talk of fools
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  Personality | Ulysses is a man who took to the Ice Age too well, someone who would have been locked up in a world gone right--but that's not the world we live in. Ulysses isn't much for being a gritty grey-neutral person. He's cynical yes, and very much subscribed to the ways aggressive skepticism, alluring intelligence, and manipulation--but he's not a dull man in the least. If you are looking for a source of punctual levity, Ulysses may sadistically bring something to the table.
  
  
  Ulysses is very detracted from his humanity, his dark humor punctuates this as he is always willing to humor himself with some morbid curiosity for a guffaw. When it comes to work he may not always enjoy himself. He knows when to be serious for sure, but it's a fluid movement of him reveling in a dramatic victory in front of some dying foes and a very silent and methodical man with an unhealthy amount of bravado and lack of care of his body.
  
  
  No emotional response feels genuine from Ulysses, it may not be truly apparent at first--but it is not hard to decipher when the man is acting the part of a irredeemable monster of the Outcasts and the truly tragic and horrid individual that is Ulysses with all of his struggle to restrain himself with his disgusting impulses. (And if one notices even deeper there is a loathing narcissism, almost as if he loves himself with a snarling spite behind it--as if he settled with loving himself than anything else really) Another strange feature to who he is that of his fake compassion. He will feign compassion as a way to move about a territory easier. Almost with a charismatic charm, alluring those with a more submissive constitution.
  
  
  Ulysses will manipulate anyone he can, subtly or even something more over the top to rile a sort of enjoyment for himself out of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Biography | Ulysses was sent into adoption at a young age, while some would make it as something to overcome and become an amazing story of adversity, it was Ulysses terrible fortune that he was left to the hands of someone else than his parents as it was on the days of the Initial Freeze. Some had already had given up on their children and took them and their own lives with them--fearing the deep freeze. However it was also on that same luck that left him to fend for himself was also the one that had him find a man named Grant Walker and Lee Walker. His adoptive fathers. Grant was a high-ranking soldier in his field, but decidedly left after greener pastures were had in paramilitary outfits. Lee was Algonquin man who reveled in the old stories of his ancestors and endlessly talked of the supernatural from his tribe's legends. The two met in the military, but had secretly held a love-life that became official after both left the military.
  
  
  Grant and Lee often discussed adopting and raising a family, but after the news of the Initial Freeze they need turned to be more dire. Lee thought of it as saving one life that would make something worthwhile, if anything at all really mattered like that. Grant always was a man obsessed with raising a soldier of his own and instilling the propaganda he was brainwashed to believe in, he sought a legacy.
  
  
  Grant's recent monetary success allowed him to raise Ulysses pretty easily, however Grant hated the idea of the boy become a coddled prissy boy. Often sending him out on excursions with his other father, Lee, to hunt and even train in survival tactics. Lee raised him on the old myths and theology his people as his father did for him. It was out of all the myths that one stuck out the most for the child, the strangely silent and obedient child, it was the Wendigo. A Creature born of unimaginable greed and insatiable gluttony. It was something that perplexed him through all the ventures with Lee. Why would ambition like that be bad? Why would taking something you desired be all that terrible? He saw all the world become part of this craze. This psychosis. Become Wendigos. They scrambled to supply themselves and even kill over it.
  
  
  It was something that perplexed him. Perhaps they were doing it wrong, a falsehood. False monsters wearing human skin...
  
  
  On the last trip with his father Lee a massive snowstorm blew in, making them lose their barrings. The snowstorm left them without contact to the outside world for weeks. On the 4 week Lee had gone under a dramatic change. Believe too much in his own myths a form of Wendigo Psychosis sprung within him.
  
  
  It was 7 long days that week Ulysses and Lee had. Lee had undergone such a dramatic transformation, and when he finally snapped he began to hunt down his own son...
  
  
  Meanwhile Grant was hired as a high ranking officer within the Triton Project. Not a scientist, but only security detail, but he was a very trusted member within it. Grant often had to eliminate certain "talkative" scientists and individuals. Grant had killed more men who had loose lips than he would have liked, but he was just one man within the network, and the network failed as the Triton Project had been discovered by the world outside.
  
  
  Back to Ulysses and Lee: Lee had begun hunting the boy to survive--however Ulysses was not a child anymore. He knew how to fight. To hunt. To Kill. Both had set traps and snares for eachother as they actively began hunting each other. Ulysses was not afraid to admit he was both having the time of his life and felt it was a horrible nightmare. But on the 6th day, Ulysses proved to be the better over his father, but with nothing to sustain himself with. Well. Ulysses had to eat his father.
  
  
  Ulysses may have differed from anyone else at this point in his life. While most would hate themselves for either loving the fact they were going to eat their own parent for survival--Ulysses felt very bored by the experience, not enthralled nor totally dissatisfied. That ennui turned to paranoia. As he began feeling akin to the "False Wendigos" he so easily banished from any sort of respect. The thought scared him, the first thing that shook him to the very core those weeks. The idea of being lost with the crowds of being fake. He could not accept it. He needed to prove that he could continue. Go farther. Hit harder. Hunt better. Kill faster. Stand out among the crowd of disgusting fakes around him that he could never empathize with.
  
  
  It was the next day that Grant had sent out a search team for them. Only finding Ulysses. Grant fell into a deep depression as Ulysses refused to talk about what happened. For Grant it was finding Ulysses was good enough it seemed, but the toll of losing his husband affect him dearly. As the Triton Project was out i the open Grant had become a paranoid mess and a total dictator. Ulysses had begun training with Grant at that point. Lee would often remove Ulysses from the militaristic training regime, thinking it would push the boy too far--but without Lee as the barrier to Grant's propaganda fueled paranoia opened the flood gated the brutal training. Grant was under the impression that his training with the only thing Ulysses could use to survive, that people will always betray one another. Grant had seen this, from the Triton Project. With military excursions. Grant was sure that this was the proper course and that Ulysses had to survive no matter what.
  
  
  -----
  
  
  Time past and so did loyalties. Grant had joined the proto-H.E.A.T group, and forcibly having Ulysses join as well. This part of Ulysses's story is hazy, but it within this time and the few years that rumors speculates that he left H.E.A.T for the Outcasts. And Grant was never seen or heard from again.
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  Skills
  
  
  Bowman: Ulysses is a crackshot with a bow, being able to fire a silent shot, right between a man's gaped front teeth from just under a mile, on a bad day. It seems while he has a lack of impulse control elsewhere, it is not with art of killing and hunting that he lacks this impulse control. Ulysses will often improvise arrows or fashion a variety arrows, one technique he is found of using is fashioning arrows putrid blood and flesh chunks. This will often disease his foes and ensures the long fight will be something "interesting" CON: Bows aren't always good up close, sure he could be quick on the draw--but not faster than a bullet.
  
  
  Above Average Ballistic Knowledge: Ulysses has an above average knowledge of ballistic weaponry, however the man is a battlefield/hunting ground genius. CON: He's not a gun-nut, don't expect him to win a intense sniper battle or sharp shooting range with revolvers.
  
  
  Battleground/Hunting Ground Master: Able to place traps with near-maximum efficiency with just a few minutes. The man can make any rundown building a terror to storm or barge into. While in the field there is little he can do in a frosty desert, but the sadist will not be deterred. Although he lacks empathy, it does not mean he lacks the knowledge of where someone in fear or in a tactical pursuit may take cover or hide. CON: He's filled with a lingering paranoia and he may be hopped up on adrenaline. A bad combination for him but for others as well. He's not too paranoid where he's extremely jumpy, but he's enough to feed into his anger through his paranoia and with get a tad bit overzealous or playful to placate to his sadism. He is also a man who relishes in a victory before it happens, he may start to hum a jaunty tune to taunt his enemies or just outright mock them. He likes Jazz and songs from at least a century ago.
  
  
  Excellent Tracker: Given his profession and the state of the world Ulysses is not a novice in looking for a nice meal or head to hunt. CON: It often leads him to go alone, away from his squad, whether or not you find it easier going one on one with him this may or may not help
  
  
  Charismatic/Domination : Ulysses has a following around him, a small squad, but he's a manipulator and will (and does) use it whenever he desires. However he is frighteningly insane and will lash out on anyone in any given situation if his hostility is built high enough--this is a both a negative and a positive as he could spiral into a destructive a-hole ruining a good deal of positive notoriety.
  
  
  Melee Combat: Ulysses relishes getting up close and personal, willing to sadistically brutalize anyone who pisses him off too much or those who just seem too broody for their own good. Ulysses will go out of his way to do it even. Don't expect him to be a wimp in a fist fight, he's not just an crazed maniac that swings wildly--he's trained, he's deadly, and he's gonna enjoy himself. CON: Will often make a spectacle in this way of fighting, this doesn't often bode well with his favoring over this approach in the "final stretch" of a firefight or a skirmish. He will indulge himself, meaning if one can last the torture-porn beatings maybe back up will arrive before he starts doing a buffalo bill routine.
  
  
  ----
  
  
  Equipment:
  
  
  Modified Recurve Bow | "Robert Wise" | Wise is a Recurve Bow that is signature to Ulysses, named after the same Robert Wise who wrote "My Favorite Things" (Ulysses has a fondness of this song). While it seems like a normal recurve bow, it has been modified enough to provide enough tension to rip right through a suit like butter. However the strength Ulysses find to pull the bowstring must be sizable due to the tension needed to send an arrow deep into a man nestled into a suit. The Bow's lightweight and easy-to-repair design aids greatly for long outings. The only "hi-tech" thing about it is what it is made of: comprised of a carbon-fiber body and the string, while interchangeable, is also made of carbon.
  
  
  Arrows | Basic Steel-tipped arrows x 40 ,
  
  
  Machete/Khukhri | "Eartha Kitt" |
  
  
  Snow Suit | "The Skin of The Wild" | Ulysses's suit. While nothing too big it is outfitted with the basic needs for trekking outside in the wastes. Items to note are the steel tipped fingers and knuckles (mainly for his fun, also used for melee combat), Thermal Vision and Enhanced Vision, and Comms system.
  
  
  

Accepted, as I told the other person - I didn't receive the notification beforehand - I apologize!


@CupAndCough

 

[The Shadow Realm]

Name: Shiki Masamura
Age: 26


Gender: Female


Sexuality: Straight


Appearance (Picture would do just fine.):

Spoiler

Faction (If in any.): Devoid of any. A literal 'outcast'. If a true title had to be placed she'd fit among anyone that was a scavenger of the sorts.


Personality: She's a bit jumpy and quick to pull a trigger. She's got the reaction of a cat that probably had a bit too much catnip and thinks it's own shadow is something out to get her. This being said, that also means to match up along with it is that she tends to get scared pretty quickly and will run to cover. She's a survivor, not a fighter, but she knows sometimes in this cold ass world, you need to be.


Bio (Must be atleast a Paragraph.); What a nice life Shiki here has had I might say so myself, considering her parents thought it would be a great idea to have a child they couldn't afford. That's right, practically a damned dumpster baby this little girl had her family barely getting by, and thats no understatement considering how things turned out. Throughout her depressing life, she would always have to run around and either scavenge or beg for food, until it got to the point she could devour practically anything and gain some sort of nourishment from it just because of how her body needed something, anything. This helped out once she got older especially, since she was caught stealing food from the wrong crowd and was thrown out of the only hospitable city for hundreds of miles. Sure it took some getting used to, but she ended up putting together from scraps some clothes to keep her warm, atleast added on to the the stuff she was gracefully given thinking she wouldn't last more than a day. Killing little rats she found in corners of buildings deep in the snow so far to the extent it was almost warm, she had her food. That's the life. Scraps for warmth and not much better for your food. Luckily she atleast found a nice little bunker out in the snow that seemed to be some sort of fallout shelter for a family or two given the fear of nuclear war long ago. That's where she is today, just 'chillin' out.

Inventory; Machete,

Because if she's going to miss, she's going to annihilate whatever she does hit.

, and a whole lot of hope.


Skillset: Anything a scavenger of the wastes needs of course; A well formed ability in climbing, running, and hiding. She can also tear things apart pretty quickly. It's only where firearms comes into play that she falls a bit short, barely over average if at all with shooting.


Accepted, sorry for the semi-late reply!


@Facethelight

 

[Facethelight]

[QUOTE="The Shadow Realm]Feel free to jump in whenever you wish, it's a open world Roleplay after all!

[/QUOTE]
will do after a slight bit more of dark souls (ou-)

 

[The Shadow Realm]

will do after a slight bit more of dark souls (ou-)

Haha, my Xbox One broke right before that came out... ;-;


Also, I gotta clean up the sign-ups a bit - All future reply's go in Out of Character Chat.

 

[CupAndCough]

@CupAndCough[/URL]

Oh it's still a work in progress

 

[BlueOctober]

Name- Ferron Michael October


Age- 19


Gender- Male


Sexuality- Asexual Panromantic


Appearance (Picture would do just fine.)


Faction- Wolfpack Sniper


Personality- Ferron can come off as a bit abrasive, but only to people that he doesn't know. When it comes to his family, he's all smiles and laughs. Only problem is, he spends a lot more time lining up shots in his crosshairs than spending time with his family. The hunt means everything to Ferron. When he has his sniper rifle, nothing else in the world matters besides him and his target.


Bio- New Hope was a settlement in what was formerly the United States, established about 26 or 27 years ago, no one really remembers for sure. This is where Ferron was born, in one of the few constructs that had been left over from the actual United States era. When Ferron was born, he was small, seeing how he was born about ten weeks early. While this didn't have any effects on his physical development, he speculates that it may have had some effect on his social skills, seeing how he doesn't like most human interaction. When Ferron was six years old a rogue group of raiders tore through the settlement. Many of the families that Ferron had grown up with were decimated, but his family was spared. This didn't stop anger from going to the young boy's head, and he grabbed a rifle, intent on pursuing the men and women who had killed the people of his home. It's not that he really cared for them, more that he felt the Raiders shouldn't go unpunished. While Ferron's father did manage to stop him from leaving then, he was unable to stop Ferron from leaving with a group of hunters a month later.


It was during this time that Ferron learned his trade. The Hunters were, more or less, an offshoot of the Wolfpack, an ex member who wanted to hunt down Raiders, and sometimes just cause mayhem among the other factions. One of their best shots was a man named Shaun, who showed Ferrom everything he knew about rifles. He also taught Ferron the art of shooting, and would often keep him out in harsh conditions to show him how dedicated a sniper had to be if he wanted to be successful.


For ten years Ferron traveled all over with the hunters, and learned everything that they had to teach him about shooting. He then went freelance for a little while, working in the Underground of some of the major cities, carrying out Hitman style assassinations for the highest bidder. Then, the Wolfpack came in. Ferron saw an opportunity to get back the kind of family he had when he had traveled with the Hunters, and he followed them.


For three years now, Ferron has been the Wolfpack's sniper. He's not the fastest in the pack, nor is he the strongest, but he pulls his end of the line. Any shot that needs taken, he'll take it without hesitation.


Inventory- Along with all of the basic needs for survival, Ferron carries around a variety of tools that are helpful in the sometimes weeklong shots that he has to take. Since he can't always light a fire, in fear of revealing his position to enemies, Ferron carries multiple MREs with him at all times. He carries ammo for both of his weapons, his sniper and his pistol. He tends to carry about fifty rounds for each, if possible. On top of that, he carries a knife in his suit, which he has actually never used in combat. Ferron has managed to adapt his suit for his line of work. Through a lot of tinkering, and talking to a load of tech guys in the settlements the Wolfpack goes through, he's managed to get his cloak to reflect the light for a certain amount of time, rendering him practically invisible, for a period of about thirty minutes. This is particularly handy if he needs to escape from a high pressure situation, due to his injuries. (See other)


Skillset- Ferrom has had decent survivalist training, improved quite a bit from his time with the Wolfpack. When it comes to weapons, he tends to be able to fire any kind of rifle. Shotguns are definitely out of his league, as he doesn't like the recoil. He has a fair grasp of CQC, but would rather not utilize that if at all possible. He's a sniper, he would rather hang back and take his shots from hundreds of yards away.


Other- Injuries. Through Ferron's lifetime, he's come to realize that he's a lot more frail than most human beings. His bones are easily broken, which adds to his want to stay as far away from front line combat as humanly possible. In addition to this condition, Ferron is also blind in one eye. This happened when a hostile sniper's bullet struck a tree directly next to Ferron, pieces of bark flew through the glass of his visor and struck his left eye, rendering it useless.<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/image.jpeg.56a18d2c7cf5a64519a083b75cd4e537.jpeg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="118871" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/image.jpeg.56a18d2c7cf5a64519a083b75cd4e537.jpeg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

 

[The Shadow Realm]

Name- Ferron Michael October
Age- 19


Gender- Male


Sexuality- Asexual Panromantic


Appearance (Picture would do just fine.)


Faction- Wolfpack Sniper


Personality- Ferron can come off as a bit abrasive, but only to people that he doesn't know. When it comes to his family, he's all smiles and laughs. Only problem is, he spends a lot more time lining up shots in his crosshairs than spending time with his family. The hunt means everything to Ferron. When he has his sniper rifle, nothing else in the world matters besides him and his target.


Bio- New Hope was a settlement in what was formerly the United States, established about 26 or 27 years ago, no one really remembers for sure. This is where Ferron was born, in one of the few constructs that had been left over from the actual United States era. When Ferron was born, he was small, seeing how he was born about ten weeks early. While this didn't have any effects on his physical development, he speculates that it may have had some effect on his social skills, seeing how he doesn't like most human interaction. When Ferron was six years old a rogue group of raiders tore through the settlement. Many of the families that Ferron had grown up with were decimated, but his family was spared. This didn't stop anger from going to the young boy's head, and he grabbed a rifle, intent on pursuing the men and women who had killed the people of his home. It's not that he really cared for them, more that he felt the Raiders shouldn't go unpunished. While Ferron's father did manage to stop him from leaving then, he was unable to stop Ferron from leaving with a group of hunters a month later.


It was during this time that Ferron learned his trade. The Hunters were, more or less, an offshoot of the Wolfpack, an ex member who wanted to hunt down Raiders, and sometimes just cause mayhem among the other factions. One of their best shots was a man named Shaun, who showed Ferrom everything he knew about rifles. He also taught Ferron the art of shooting, and would often keep him out in harsh conditions to show him how dedicated a sniper had to be if he wanted to be successful.


For ten years Ferron traveled all over with the hunters, and learned everything that they had to teach him about shooting. He then went freelance for a little while, working in the Underground of some of the major cities, carrying out Hitman style assassinations for the highest bidder. Then, the Wolfpack came in. Ferron saw an opportunity to get back the kind of family he had when he had traveled with the Hunters, and he followed them.


For three years now, Ferron has been the Wolfpack's sniper. He's not the fastest in the pack, nor is he the strongest, but he pulls his end of the line. Any shot that needs taken, he'll take it without hesitation.


Inventory- Along with all of the basic needs for survival, Ferron carries around a variety of tools that are helpful in the sometimes weeklong shots that he has to take. Since he can't always light a fire, in fear of revealing his position to enemies, Ferron carries multiple MREs with him at all times. He carries ammo for both of his weapons, his sniper and his pistol. He tends to carry about fifty rounds for each, if possible. On top of that, he carries a knife in his suit, which he has actually never used in combat. Ferron has managed to adapt his suit for his line of work. Through a lot of tinkering, and talking to a load of tech guys in the settlements the Wolfpack goes through, he's managed to get his cloak to reflect the light for a certain amount of time, rendering him practically invisible, for a period of about thirty minutes. This is particularly handy if he needs to escape from a high pressure situation, due to his injuries. (See other)


Skillset- Ferrom has had decent survivalist training, improved quite a bit from his time with the Wolfpack. When it comes to weapons, he tends to be able to fire any kind of rifle. Shotguns are definitely out of his league, as he doesn't like the recoil. He has a fair grasp of CQC, but would rather not utilize that if at all possible. He's a sniper, he would rather hang back and take his shots from hundreds of yards away.


Other- Injuries. Through Ferron's lifetime, he's come to realize that he's a lot more frail than most human beings. His bones are easily broken, which adds to his want to stay as far away from front line combat as humanly possible. In addition to this condition, Ferron is also blind in one eye. This happened when a hostile sniper's bullet struck a tree directly next to Ferron, pieces of bark flew through the glass of his visor and struck his left eye, rendering it useless.

Accepted, however your character doesn't look.... very wolfpackey - You know?


The Wolfpack burned their mark on this world for a dozen reasons, one of them being their masks. (Sorry if I sound like a ass-hat.)

 

[The Shadow Realm]

I'll make sure to find him a mask, just wanted to post a picture without his suit.

Oh, alright. Feel free to ask me if you need help.

 

[General Deth Glitch]

Damon Farrow

27




Male




Faction:

Unaligned

Personality:
​

He is unpredictable and rarely polite, despite his kindred spirit. He wants to see the good in people but has too often faced the greed. He is vary slow to make friends but is protective of those friendships he has made, however can be quick to break them if they lie or betray him.

Bio:

​

He was born in D.C. and grew up under the F.S.F. but he holds no love for them. Despite this life of relative luxury he still felt so.. confined. He yearned for more, for something other then this mediocre life he was expected to life. At the first opportunity he left to brave the wastes and soon realised how lucky he was to have the protection of D.C. however it did not change how he felt, if anything it just bred more distaste for the F.S.F. He thought why should one body have so much power? Why should people rely on something else. He grew distrustful of people and their greed and thought that if people were just a little more trusting, a little more willing to share, to help one another then this wasteland would be hospitable. His first encounter with Outcasts only strengthened this resolve as he barely escaped with his life. Stuck in the middle of a gunfight over supplies between the F.S.F. and them when there seemed enough supplies for both from what he could see. Lives lost and for what? Was all this really worth killing over? Well he decided then and there that if lives were to be lost then it wouldn't be his. He began focusing more and more of fighting and shooting. He even stole a better gun from one of the dead, better then his old revolver, not that he was going to part with that either.

Inventory

​

His Pistol

Spoiler

The rifle

Spoiler

He also has a torch on his chest and breathing apparatus in the event of being caught in a blizzard, nothing fancy just gives him a little space where there isn't fast flowing icy air.

Skillset

​

Through the years surviving in the wastes he has adapted to have some good survival skills and instincts as well as being a decent shot and fairly good in a gunfight at not being shot. He is also a good commander, despite never really being one other then in a few scrapes where innocents were caught in the cross fire and he felt the need to order then around as he sook safe refuge for them.

 

[The Shadow Realm]

[QUOTE="General Deth Glitch]

Damon Farrow

27




Male




Faction:

Unaligned

Personality:
​

He is unpredictable and rarely polite, despite his kindred spirit. He wants to see the good in people but has too often faced the greed. He is vary slow to make friends but is protective of those friendships he has made, however can be quick to break them if they lie or betray him.

Bio:

​

He was born in D.C. and grew up under the F.S.F. but he holds no love for them. Despite this life of relative luxury he still felt so.. confined. He yearned for more, for something other then this mediocre life he was expected to life. At the first opportunity he left to brave the wastes and soon realised how lucky he was to have the protection of D.C. however it did not change how he felt, if anything it just bred more distaste for the F.S.F. He thought why should one body have so much power? Why should people rely on something else. He grew distrustful of people and their greed and thought that if people were just a little more trusting, a little more willing to share, to help one another then this wasteland would be hospitable. His first encounter with Outcasts only strengthened this resolve as he barely escaped with his life. Stuck in the middle of a gunfight over supplies between the F.S.F. and them when there seemed enough supplies for both from what he could see. Lives lost and for what? Was all this really worth killing over? Well he decided then and there that if lives were to be lost then it wouldn't be his. He began focusing more and more of fighting and shooting. He even stole a better gun from one of the dead, better then his old revolver, not that he was going to part with that either.

Inventory

​

His Pistol

Spoiler

The rifle

Spoiler

He also has a torch on his chest and breathing apparatus in the event of being caught in a blizzard, nothing fancy just gives him a little space where there isn't fast flowing icy air.

Skillset

​

Through the years surviving in the wastes he has adapted to have some good survival skills and instincts as well as being a decent shot and fairly good in a gunfight at not being shot. He is also a good commander, despite never really being one other then in a few scrapes where innocents were caught in the cross fire and he felt the need to order then around as he sook safe refuge for them.

[/QUOTE]
Accepted!

 

[Fluffy-Kat]

[QUOTE="General Deth Glitch]

Damon Farrow

27




Male




Faction:

Unaligned

Personality:
​

He is unpredictable and rarely polite, despite his kindred spirit. He wants to see the good in people but has too often faced the greed. He is vary slow to make friends but is protective of those friendships he has made, however can be quick to break them if they lie or betray him.

Bio:

​

He was born in D.C. and grew up under the F.S.F. but he holds no love for them. Despite this life of relative luxury he still felt so.. confined. He yearned for more, for something other then this mediocre life he was expected to life. At the first opportunity he left to brave the wastes and soon realised how lucky he was to have the protection of D.C. however it did not change how he felt, if anything it just bred more distaste for the F.S.F. He thought why should one body have so much power? Why should people rely on something else. He grew distrustful of people and their greed and thought that if people were just a little more trusting, a little more willing to share, to help one another then this wasteland would be hospitable. His first encounter with Outcasts only strengthened this resolve as he barely escaped with his life. Stuck in the middle of a gunfight over supplies between the F.S.F. and them when there seemed enough supplies for both from what he could see. Lives lost and for what? Was all this really worth killing over? Well he decided then and there that if lives were to be lost then it wouldn't be his. He began focusing more and more of fighting and shooting. He even stole a better gun from one of the dead, better then his old revolver, not that he was going to part with that either.

Inventory

​

His Pistol

Spoiler

The rifle

Spoiler

He also has a torch on his chest and breathing apparatus in the event of being caught in a blizzard, nothing fancy just gives him a little space where there isn't fast flowing icy air.

Skillset

​

Through the years surviving in the wastes he has adapted to have some good survival skills and instincts as well as being a decent shot and fairly good in a gunfight at not being shot. He is also a good commander, despite never really being one other then in a few scrapes where innocents were caught in the cross fire and he felt the need to order then around as he sook safe refuge for them.

[/QUOTE]
Why....why does Damon look like Booker from BOInfinite *u*

 

[Anaxileah]

[QUOTE="HoneyBear-Kat]Why....why does Damon look like Booker from BOInfinite *u*

[/QUOTE]
Because you're weird, Fluffy

 

[Fluffy-Kat]

Because you're weird, Fluffy

He does tho

 

[Pequeno Burraidh]

@The Shadow Realm


Name: 'Scorn', real name known only to her.


Age: mid 20's, but unknown.


Gender: Female


Sexuality: Bi


Appearance:


Out of Armour-

Spoiler

The frozen apocalypse has actually done well for Scorn, as she was born albino and now feels like she fits in a bit better with the driven white landscape. Very few people know this fact, and most are doctors or medics.


Stands at 5'1.5".


In Armour-

Spoiler

Masque (The skull part. Minus the white eyes)-

Spoiler

Faction: Radiant(Free of ties)


Personality: Somewhat cold and distant, Scorn tends to present herself as professionally as possible, often keeping personal connections and the like keep out of her general thought process.


Despite this she tends to run a violent and strong defence for underdogs, children, or anyone who has located a secured a spot on her soft side. To anyone she doesn't know she can come off as rude or arsehol-ish, but in reality she simply aims to be as efficient with her work as possible.


Bio: Not much overall is known about Scorn save for the odd tale or two that are whispered behind her back. Some claim she was an outcast, but was cast out due to being too dangerous, others claim she's a daemon of the icy wastes, and yet others praise her as some angel that swept out to the blizzard to save them. Each story comes from different claims and backgrounds, and there really is no set or solid truth known to the public. Some people even believe her to have been a part of the original Wolfpack.


The truth is that she had chosen to start a life alone. Having been caught up in an ambush, many of her comrades died during the fighting. When they radioed in and told their command to leave them behind and focus on protecting the civilians one of them had refused to listen, instead halting the exodus to try to rescue them. The mistake proved to be folly.


Everyone had been killed save for Scorn, laid unconscious under the body of one of her closest team members. Having awoken the explored the carnage around her to find that in their attempt to 'rescue' their men had triggered a secondary ambush. Everyone was dead, including every civilian they'd bee required to protect.


Gathering the supplies she could, Scorn donned a masque to hide herself from the world and has been on her own taking odd jobs or stepping into errant conflicts ever since.


Inventory:


A 12.7mm sniper rifle, modified with cold resistant insulation. Endearingly nicknamed 'The Fuckbringer'.

Spoiler

High Capacity, .45 chambered, high ROF low recoil close quarters sub-machine-gun. Nicknamed 'Flayer'.

Spoiler

Skillset: Skilled marksman and proficient in hand to hand combat, well enough to be able to fight off the odd wolf barehanded.


On that note Scorn has put herself in the place of alpha over two younger wolves. They aren't pets, and she sometimes has to put them back in their place, but they are a pack a nonetheless and operate as such. Their names are Cathadh and Reothadh, both white furred.

 

[The Shadow Realm]

[QUOTE="Veirrianna Valentine]
Bed time for me at the moment, so I'll finish this up in the morn.
Name: 'Scorn', real name known only to her.


Age: mid 20's, but unknown.


Gender: Female


Sexuality: Bi


Appearance:


Out of Armour-

Spoiler

The frozen apocalypse has actually done well for Scorn, as she was born albino and now feels like she fits in a bit better with the driven white landscape. Very few people know this fact, and most are doctors or medics.


In Armour-

Spoiler

Masque (The skull part. Minus the white eyes)-

Spoiler

Faction: Radiant(Free of ties)


Personality: WIP


Bio: Not much overall is known about Scorn save for the odd tale or two that are whispered behind her back. Some claim she was an outcast, but was cast out due to being too dangerous, others claim she's a daemon of the icy wastes, and yet others praise her as some angel that swept out to the blizzard to save them. Each story comes from different claims and backgrounds, and there really is no set or solid truth known to the public. Some people even believe her to have been a part of the original Wolfpack.


The truth is that she had chosen to start a life alone. Having been caught up in an ambush, many of her comrades died during the fighting. When they radioed in and told their command to leave them behind and focus on protecting the civilians one of them had refused to listen, instead halting the exodus to try to rescue them. The mistake proved to be folly.


Everyone had been killed save for Scorn, laid unconscious under the body of one of her closest team members. Having awoken the explored the carnage around her to find that in their attempt to 'rescue' their men had triggered a secondary ambush. Everyone was dead, including every civilian they'd bee required to protect.


Gathering the supplies she could, Scorn donned a masque to hide herself from the world and has been on her own taking odd jobs or stepping into errant conflicts ever since.


Inventory:


A 12.7mm sniper rifle, modified with cold resistant insulation. Endearingly nicknamed 'The Fuckbringer'.

Spoiler

High Capacity, .45 chambered, high ROF low recoil close quarters sub-machine-gun. Nicknamed 'Flayer'.

Spoiler

Skillset: WIP

[/QUOTE]
Accepted, however after you awake, may you finish the skillset?

 

[Pequeno Burraidh]

[QUOTE="The Shadow Realm]Accepted, however after you awake, may you finish the skillset?

[/QUOTE]
Finsihed and updated earlier, tagged you as well in case you wanted to finish judging it appropriately.

 

[The Shadow Realm]

[QUOTE="Veirrianna Valentine]Finsihed and updated earlier, tagged you as well in case you wanted to finish judging it appropriately.

[/QUOTE]
Accepted, wolves would survive in this climate afterall!

 

[WolfBoy34102]

Name: Dexter (Dax) Grenz


Age: 22


Gender: Male


Sexuality: Straight


Appearance (Picture would do just fine.)

Under Dax's gear he has a heavily scared face, his eyes are a shock of blue with Black hair peppered with white from stress. He stands at 5'9 when he stands tall but hunched over in his environmental suit he built he is 5'5. He now brings scraps and his skills to any settlement that will take him and repay him with food, services or information for good scavenger spots.

Faction (If in any.): freelance scavanger/ mechanic


Personality: Bold, Crazy, kind


Bio (Must be at least a Paragraph.): Dax is a strange one, living in the ground for twenty-two of your years and learning only the basics of mechanics and survival and being beaten almost everyday can do that for you. It had always been just him and his dad, mechanical slaves to a gang in the North calling themselves the the Ice Skulzs. They based in a underground bunker deep into the natural Earth. Under his fathers wing he learned electrician work, mechanical skills as well as a number of other miss match skills more focusing on using scavenged parts or how his father put MacGyver skills. When he was eighteen the water purify broke, of course it was his father and Dax's job to fix it, as they were working on it a valve on a water tank burst open under heavy pressure killing his father with a hit to the head by shrapnel. Destroyed by this event Dax refused to work, no matter how hard the Skulz beat him and tortured him. With no other option they came to him one night and held him down as Dax screamed in rage. They removed his tongue as payment for their services, they told him in his half conscious state that if DAx did not pay their mercy back with work they would begin to take pieces of him. After his recovery Dax followed order's doing what they said but he slowly began to build a vehicle his father had come up with based on a old magazine he had found from the past. Using a Van body, home made wind generator and treds Dax was able to make a vehicle to traverse the outside. It took him four years but one night he was able to open the bunkers vault door and after setting the water tanks and pipes to blow he left. By the time the Skulz were awake the next day the freezing air froze the men within their own rooms and Dax was free to be his own man.


Inventory: On him he has his environmental suit, basically a rubber contagion suit he found in the bunker with a compact heater and oxygen supply, on top of that he has installed metal for bullet proofing and then blankets and fur lining of coats on top with a layer of white paint. On his face he has a full face gas mask with red lenses. He carries a number of scraps within his Snow Cat, sleeping bag, some food, water, Bow and arrows, a 9mm hand gun with 12 rounds and a hunting rifle with 36 rounds. IN the back hidden under a floor panel he hides his tools.


Skillset: Mechanic, scavanger MacGyver skills, electrician, engineer

 

[The Shadow Realm]

Name: Dexter (Dax) Grenz
Age: 22


Gender: Male


Sexuality: Straight


Appearance (Picture would do just fine.)

Under Dax's gear he has a heavily scared face, his eyes are a shock of blue with Black hair peppered with white from stress. He stands at 5'9 when he stands tall but hunched over in his environmental suit he built he is 5'5. He now brings scraps and his skills to any settlement that will take him and repay him with food, services or information for good scavenger spots.

Faction (If in any.): freelance scavanger/ mechanic


Personality: Bold, Crazy, kind


Bio (Must be at least a Paragraph.): Dax is a strange one, living in the ground for twenty-two of your years and learning only the basics of mechanics and survival and being beaten almost everyday can do that for you. It had always been just him and his dad, mechanical slaves to a gang in the North calling themselves the the Ice Skulzs. They based in a underground bunker deep into the natural Earth. Under his fathers wing he learned electrician work, mechanical skills as well as a number of other miss match skills more focusing on using scavenged parts or how his father put MacGyver skills. When he was eighteen the water purify broke, of course it was his father and Dax's job to fix it, as they were working on it a valve on a water tank burst open under heavy pressure killing his father with a hit to the head by shrapnel. Destroyed by this event Dax refused to work, no matter how hard the Skulz beat him and tortured him. With no other option they came to him one night and held him down as Dax screamed in rage. They removed his tongue as payment for their services, they told him in his half conscious state that if DAx did not pay their mercy back with work they would begin to take pieces of him. After his recovery Dax followed order's doing what they said but he slowly began to build a vehicle his father had come up with based on a old magazine he had found from the past. Using a Van body, home made wind generator and treds Dax was able to make a vehicle to traverse the outside. It took him four years but one night he was able to open the bunkers vault door and after setting the water tanks and pipes to blow he left. By the time the Skulz were awake the next day the freezing air froze the men within their own rooms and Dax was free to be his own man.


Inventory: On him he has his environmental suit, basically a rubber contagion suit he found in the bunker with a compact heater and oxygen supply, on top of that he has installed metal for bullet proofing and then blankets and fur lining of coats on top with a layer of white paint. On his face he has a full face gas mask with red lenses. He carries a number of scraps within his Snow Cat, sleeping bag, some food, water, Bow and arrows, a 9mm hand gun with 12 rounds and a hunting rifle with 36 rounds. IN the back hidden under a floor panel he hides his tools.


Skillset: Mechanic, scavanger MacGyver skills, electrician, engineer

Accepted.

 

[The Shadow Realm]

Name: Anya Montgomery


Age: 29


Gender: Female


Sexuality: Heterosexual

Faction: Wolf Pack


Bio: Anya Montgomery is known as.... Anya. This lady was once a daddy's girl despite the harsh realities of this world she was born into. Born in 2083 to a family of two which consisted of her mother, and father. They lived in Chicago, Illinois when the world fell to the chaos it is in now. They weren't particularly well to do, yet they weren't exactly poor. They ranged in the middle just getting by with life. Little frozen suburbia so to say... Her mother was fair, her father had his secrets. Anya grew up okay never knowing what her father's secrets were.


One day when Anya was about sixteen. Her little family sat to a rationed dinner they managed to come by on a good week.... people came storming in. Shocking Anya, and her mother.... as for dear daddy he held a stern look on his face. They threw the table aside in their living area tying daddy to the chair. Dragging mommy to the floor and they stabbed her each time a question went unanswered... soon the floor wasn't so white anymore mommy's breath no more after all the screams filled the air. Daddy sat there with tears in his eyes, but never opened his mouth. He watched his wife die because of his pride. In the same moment, the unthinkable happened before his eyes... His little girl was tainted, ruined while laying in her mommy's blood next to her corpse growing cold. Beaten, destroyed, Anya looked to him with her own tears in shock begging him for whatever is they wanted... Trying to hold her tattered clothing after they took their turns with her he spoke in a hoarse voice. "Baby girl I am so sorry, so sorry. You don't deserve this, what they want to know I can't give, but someday you will find the answers," with those last words the one man who stood there in silence with a gun to his head shot dead ol' daddy.


Anya, numbed with her father's brain matter, mom's blood --- tattered clothing they ransacked the little home the family shared, never bothering with her again, to this very day they never found daddy's secrets...


Personality: Anya is quiet upon first meeting, blunt with her words when speaking, subtle in approach despite her outspoken ways. On the surface she comes off as a woman who isn't so friendly. Quick to internalize everything keeping that poker face. When you are given a chance to know her she is loyal, honest, very friendly... She has a hard time trusting. Anya has many troubles learned to internalize things because of her past, she overcame her problems yet this is where she can't open up to anyone. She will take a contract from most of anyone. She sticks to her own self pretty much if you don't know her or have her friendship in any sense. Lying ticks her off, and she hates to be touched.


Inventory: Hand blades, switch blades, butterfly knife, daggers big or small. A machete, anything that slices. Two .50 a&e Desert Eagle Hand guns at all times... and her gear for warmth. Lady doesn't require much.

Skillset: Anya is quick, quiet. Her favorite weapon of choice is the knife or multiple knives. Strangulation is her favorite thing to do, if need be. Decent in hand to hand combat, can handle a handgun when the occasion arises for it.
​

Accepted, also what a lovely C.S!

 

[LadyArdent]

[QUOTE="The Shadow Realm]Accepted, also what a lovely C.S!

[/QUOTE]
Thank you!!! Also would I just just throw myself in there with a lovely post?

 

[ObiSemKenobi]

Thank you!!! Also would I just just throw myself in there with a lovely post?

I think I'll just channel @The Shadow Realm (wow, that sounds really evil) and say: 'Please do!'


Also, quiet, yet packing two Desert Eagles. I like this girl!

 

[LadyArdent]

@The Shadow Realm[/URL] (wow, that sounds really evil) and say: 'Please do!'
Also, quiet, yet packing two Desert Eagles. I like this girl!

Why thank you. I'm not huge on guns but I am familiar with that one because I've used it as a weapon choice back in the day. I haven't read all the posts so I'm trying to see where I can get myself into.. Plus I would think to stick to my faction is any of them aren't on a contract. I'm eager.

 

[The Shadow Realm]

Thank you!!! Also would I just just throw myself in there with a lovely post?

Please do!

I think I'll just channel @The Shadow Realm (wow, that sounds really evil) and say: 'Please do!'
Also, quiet, yet packing two Desert Eagles. I like this girl!

I wanted my name to sound as such. *cue murder music* Also yeah, I got the notification to arrive here so your vile plan succeeded!


I kid..